Chapter Twelve
Calli
I take a minute to pull it together. In all honesty, I forgot the sweatpants had that slogan on the ass. They’re the biggest item of clothing I have, and the only thing that will come close to fitting Garrett.
Which in turn got my head in a spin because… Why? Why have I brought him here and asked him to take off his clothes in the hallway? In front of me. He could have gone to the bathroom like I did. I never offered him any privacy. He didn’t ask for it either.
Of course, it’s because he is soaked through. Like me and didn’t want to get my floors wet. The rain is so heavy I couldn’t leave him out in it.
All good reasons. Great reasons for bringing him up here.
My brain can’t shake the image of him peeling that top over his head. God, I got off over him pressing his clothed body against me. Seeing his chest, covered in tattoos, his skin wet and golden, with a light layer of hair across his pecs, is more than enough to get my temperature rising. I resist the urge to fan myself as he turns to face me.
“You think that’s funny?”
“I could take a picture, send it to Lucky.”
He folds his arms over his chest, which unfortunately, is now covered by a dark T-shirt. He has that angry glare on his face again, the one that makes my pulse jump.
The T-shirt is one I use to sleep in. I’ll be wearing it without washing it. Garrett smells amazing.
“Um, do you want something to drink? I need a drink,” I add with a mumble.
I spin on my heel and walk over to the kitchen. Garrett doesn’t move, but I can feel him in the room. If that is even a thing. He’s got that presence. Like he is filling up all the space.
There are coffee mugs on a stand that Ruby gave me, so I grab two and flick on the coffee machine.
“I’ll take a water,” Garrett has moved closer. “Caffeine is bad for you.”
“Caffeine keeps me going. Literally and figuratively,” I joke.
He looks around the kitchen and I focus on re-hanging the second mug and grabbing a glass instead. Garrett takes the glass after I’ve filled it.
We should finish our conversation about the other night, but I’m not sure how to broach it. Plus, the bombshell Sin dropped on me is playing on my mind. Does he watch the security footage? Or does he only look at it when something happens?
I have to go on the assumption he saw it. He hasn’t done or said anything to insinuate he knows. God, why is he standing there looking at me? Turning, I put my back to him and make my coffee.
He is studying me like he’s seeing inside of me. Like he has seen me. I’m about to blurt out the question when he speaks.
“That guy out there. How well do you know him?”
“Who?” I turn, still flummoxed. “Oh, you mean Caleb? Not well, he introduced himself at the mailbox. We don’t talk much.” His jaw is tight. Is he jealous? “Why?”
“Just, got a vibe.”
“What kind of vibe?”
Garrett shrugs. My hackles rise.
“Are you asking about the man across the hall? Like you have say in who I talk to?”
“No,” he looks away, a frown on his face. “I don’t care who you talk to, that guy just seemed off. Up to you what you do with that.”
“I don’t understand you.”
His head turns back. “Who said you had to understand me?”
“Do you always have to be so antagonistic?”
Garrett tenses his jaw, then he lets out a sigh. “Yeah, it’s the way I am. I know it irritates people. I’m not gonna apologize for it.”
There has to be something to admire about that. Not that I get it, I couldn’t be the way Garrett is. My mind goes back to his sketch pad. To the woman he drew, over and over. Whoever she was, she hurt him. That much is obvious.
The rain is still coming down, hammering against the windows. The warmth of this place has been irritating the whole time I’ve been here. Now I welcome the heat. It’s cold as hell. Or maybe I’m chilled by Garrett.
As he stares, the chill turns molten. What the hell is going on with him? He told me he is an asshole, and proud of it, now he’s staring at me like he wants to eat me. Now is the perfect time to throw cold water on this.
“Do you have cameras in the shop?”
His eyes narrow and he shifts a little but doesn’t turn away.
“In the back room, specifically?” My voice is low, breathy. Either I’m scared to hear he does, and he saw me… Or him seeing me is getting me hot.
“Are you asking me if I watched you fuck your own hand, Vixen?” he takes a step toward me.
My heart falls into my stomach. He watched . Our eyes lock on one another. He hasn’t moved any closer, watching me, waiting to see how I’m going to react. How do I feel? He watched me doing something so personal. So sexual.
I’m caught between embarrassment and arousal right now and it’s confusing as hell. Every time he calls me Vixen, it makes me weak-kneed.
“You saw it… All?” I ask.
“I saw enough.”
“What does that mean?” I blurt out.
“It means I caught the end of it. I erased the recording.”
“Oh.” That’s a surprise.
“I remember every second of what I watched.”
My lips part in surprise. Followed quickly by another wave of heat. His voice is like molten lava, his eyes burning into me. It’s like that night all over again. I don’t want to get burned. When he ran away, that hurt. He doesn’t get to do that again.
“Do you remember, Calli?” he takes another step toward me. His stride is long, and my kitchen is small. He’s right in front of me now. “What you were thinking when you slipped your hand inside your panties and said my name?”
My heart thumps hard and my breath becomes shallow, it’s hard to breathe. A slow steady beat starts between my thighs. His scent surrounds me. My body leans toward him but I hold myself back.
Not this time. I’m not making that move. No matter how much I want to feel him against me.
He moves to stand in front of me. I’ve never been captivated by anyone like this before. Never been able to read a person the way I can with him. Standing before someone who isn’t saying anything, but I see everything in his eyes.
“You walked away. I remember that.”
His nostrils flare and his fists tighten. That one landed. He’s undeterred and goes on.
“Were you thinking of me, the whole time, when you were touching yourself?”
My hand itches to slap him. Letting him control me isn’t an option. But, that isn’t what he wants. As much as my brain is telling me to back away, I’m caught in his snare, his gaze, those eyes focused on mine.
“The man you can’t stand,” he asks, tilting his head, moving imperceptibly closer. “The man who got you all worked up,” he leans forward, putting his lips close to my ear. “Then left you high and dry, so you had to take care of yourself?”
I nod, staring at the pulse point on his neck.
“Did you wish it was my fingers inside you?” his hot breath hits my neck.
An embarrassing whimper leaves me.
“Do you want it right now?” His lips brush my neck, barely there, then gone. “Are you wet, Vixen?”
My thighs squeeze together, trying to get some relief. I’m soaking wet. His voice is making me crazy. I’m so turned on, I need something to ease this feeling. Garrett’s fingers brush through my damp hair, moving it away from my neck, he inhales.
The barest breath on my skin, a light brush of my hair. And I’m fucking drowning.
“Will you do it for me now? Show me what you did that day? How you got yourself off.”
My lips open and close, the argument is right there on my tongue.
“This time, I’m not going anywhere,” he moves back, leaning against the counter on the other side of the kitchen.
His eyes lower down my body, pausing on the juncture between my thighs.
Garrett isn’t as unaffected as he is trying to make out. He’s breathing hard and there is a very prominent bulge in the tight sweatpants I loaned him, which makes it hard for him to hide. He folds his arms and waits, not caring that I’m staring at his cock.
After a moment of wondering what the actual fuck I’m doing right now, I lower my hand down my stomach. His eyes follow the progress, and his shoulders hitch up a little as I reach the waistband of my shorts and push my hand inside.
I’m so wet, I might as well have not got out of my soaked underwear when we got home. Garrett’s biceps tense up as my hand sinks lower, pushing inside my underwear.
“Let me see,” he says.
Taking my hand back out, I press on the waistband of the shorts and lower them. They hit the floor and I step out of them. With his eyes on mine, I reach down and slip the side of my panties over, gliding my finger under the lace.
At the first touch, my stomach tightens, and I moan. Garrett’s watches as I toy with my clit, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from coming on the spot. My pulse is pounding dangerously, as I clench around nothing, feeling empty. Instead of continuing to tease my clit, I lower my fingers needing something inside of me.
Garrett moves and I pause. He takes hold of the sides of my panties and pulls them down, trailing them down my thighs. They catch on my wrist and I have to pull my hand out of the way. Garrett waits as I step out of them, then he goes back to the counter, my panties balled in his fist.
Am I really standing half naked in my kitchen with a guy who openly admits he’s a grumpy asshole who hates everyone? Yeah, I am. And I’m so desperate for a release that my hand immediately goes back between my thighs.
My eyes roll as I press two fingers inside. Garrett lets out a low groan and my eyes pop open. How is he controlling himself? His cock is so hard it’s all I can stare at. I want that inside of me, instead of my fingers.
Which only makes my fingers move faster. I’m so wet, the sound fills the otherwise quiet apartment as I press in and out, rubbing my clit with the heel of my hand. I’m so close, so fucking ready to explode.
Garrett moves. He’s right in front of me, his eyes on my hand, he reaches out and grips my wrist, making me pause. I almost cry when he pulls my hand back. I’m so desperate.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
He raises my arm and lifts my fingers to his mouth. When he presses them in between his lips, I almost lose my mind, and my balance. His tongue swirls around my fingers and he lets out a groan that has my insides liquefying.
I’ve never done anything like this in my life. It’s filthy, to me at least. When Garrett presses my hand back down, the back of his knuckles graze my lower stomach, then my clit as he presses my fingers back inside of me. He uses my hand to fuck me.
I grab onto his arm with my other hand to stop me falling when he slips a finger between mine. Finally, I’m full, I have something to clench around, and it has my eyes rolling.
Garrett lowers his head, so his mouth is near my temple. His warm breath on my skin, the feel of our hands together, working in and out faster, makes me lose grip on my sanity.
“Say my name, Calli,” he nips my earlobe. “When you come all over our fingers, say my name.”
My body tightens and I lose myself in his voice as he keeps talking, praising me, telling me how wet I am, how hot and tight. When he pulls my hand out of the way so he can sink only his fingers inside of me, I throw my head back and howl out my pleasure as it tears through me.
“That’s it, fuck. You’re so beautiful when you come for me. But you didn’t say it, Calli.”
I’m too far gone to hear anything, but with the last breath before the waves elapse, I breathe out his name.
“Fuck,” he swirls his thumb over my clit, making me gasp again and my feet scramble against the floor. “Are you trying to get away from me, Calli? Is that what you want?”
My mouth is dry as I turn to look at him. He’s so intense, but not in the way he has been every other time I’ve seen him. This is different. This is pure desire. I shake my head.
“Good.”
Before I know what is happening, Garrett grabs my hips and lifts me up on to the counter, spreading my thighs and moving between them. I claw at his T-shirt and he leans back, pulling it off and tossing it on the floor. He practically tears mine off and it falls to the ground on top of his.
He grabs the straps of my bra and drags them down my arms, the cups of the bra press down beneath my breasts.
“Shit,” Garrett groans. His thumbs graze over the piercings. “Do you know how much I’ve thought about touching these?” he teases me with his fingertips. “How I wish I was the one who put the bar through these perfect pink nipples. Beautiful.” He dips his head and sucks one into his mouth.
“Oh God,” I cry out.
Katja and Lucky were right. Holy fucking shit, the sensation I’m feeling now is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. He bites down, rolling the bar between his teeth and my brain short circuits. I lose it and come again, gripping his arms so tight my nails dig into his skin.
He hisses but keeps going, his hand pulling on one nipple, the other he’s nipping and sucking at, prolonging the pleasure almost to the point of pain.
Garrett straightens up, staring down at me as I pant and claw at his hips to keep myself upright. He pushes down the ridiculous flower-patterned sweatpants. His hard cock springs up and I stare at it.
He’s pierced. Not once, there are five piercings on the underside of his cock, from the root to beneath the head. Inexplicably, the first thing that comes to my mind is how it felt getting my nipples pierced.
“Did it hurt?” the question slips out.
Garrett’s lip quirks up. “Pain is relative.”
What does that mean? Actually, Garrett strikes me as the kind of guy who enjoys pain. He’s literally covered in tattoos.
“Does it scare you?”
“A monster cock full of metal, no, not at all,” I lie.
Garrett can’t help but laugh, it’s dark and dangerous and he strokes my nipples again, making me twitch and let out a low moan. He steps closer, the tip pressing against my opening, breaching inside of me. He palms my jaw and tilts my head up so I’m looking at him.
My breath gets even shorter as he slowly glides his palm down my throat, resting on the hollow of my neck. His finger and thumb tease the skin on either side of my neck, and he stares right into me.
This is reckless and insane and hot.
Garrett moves his hips closer, pushing further inside. He pauses halfway in, and I squeeze what is inside, making him hiss again. He tightens his hand a little, then releases me and our eyes meet again.
“You okay with this?” he asks.
I’m panting. It doesn’t feel different, well, he’s bigger than anyone I’ve been with before, but the piercings don’t hurt. Which I guess I was expecting and maybe tensed up a little.
“I’m clean, if you’re worried. I can stop.”
“No,” I pull him into me. “Me too, and, birth control isn’t an issue.”
It’s bizarre having this conversation with his dick half inside of me. But I’m glad he brought it up. Taking his word for it might be stupid, but we’re too far gone. The moment he sees me accepting it, Garrett rams his hips against mine and pushes all the way in.
I stop breathing. I stop thinking. Everything focuses in on his cock between my thighs, pushing in and out, grabbing onto my hips to give him better leverage. All I can do is put my arms around his neck and hold on. Every time his chest grazes against my breasts a ripple of pleasure burns through me.
He hasn’t kissed me this time. He’s lavished my nipples, my throat and my fingers but not my mouth. Almost as if he can read my mind, he turns his head and his lips find mine, kissing me with the same intensity as his now slow, intense thrusts, driving deep inside of me.
He takes my breath away with every move of his body. Every twist of his hips and roll of his tongue against mine. The sensations build again. I’m going to…
“Oh God,” my head tips back as the piercings hits a spot inside of me I’ve never felt before.
I slide on the counter, the wetness between us should embarrass the hell out of me but all I can focus on is the intense pleasure.
Garrett hooks one arm around my waist to keep me where he wants me, the other grabs onto my breast, raising it up to his mouth.
Another orgasm slams into me and I scream. Garrett grunts as his thrusts slow, fighting against my body squeezing around him. Was that three? Really? In the past, I’ve been lucky to have one orgasm with penetrative sex.
There is a physical ache inside of me as my body loosens. It isn’t pain. It’s pure bliss. Garrett takes the opportunity and goes in hard, with quick, deep thrusts. His teeth clench as our eyes lock. I hold on, my breasts bouncing as he rams me back on the counter. It’s building again. I almost sob at the idea of another orgasm.
“One more,” he tells me through gritted teeth.
“I can’t,” I pant, my voice a mere whisper.
“Yes, you can,” he rotates his hips, pushing slowly, with each stroke he hits my G spot again and again. “Come for me Calli.”
“Ohhh God,” the moan goes on and on and I do it, I come again like he tells me. On command.
Garrett grunts then pulls out of me. He drags me off the counter and turns me around, bending me over. I grab onto the cold marble surface as Garrett grunts harder, then cries out with a low groan. Warmth spreads over my bare back and I glance over my shoulder.
His chest is heaving up and down, sweat soaks his pecs and throat and he’s holding his cock in his palm. Some cum has spilled over his fingers, but most of it is down my back, running over the cheeks of my ass.
It’s the dirtiest thing I’ve ever done. And I loved it. My head rolls and I press my forehead against the counter. The coldness soothes my heated skin. I can’t move. The sound of running water barely registers, until a cool cloth is gliding over my back.
Can I stay here? Like this. My legs will not work. The ache deep inside of me is going to stay with me for a while.
Garrett puts one hand on my hip, the other on the back of my neck. He guides me upright and I fall back against his chest, closing my eyes. The only sound is our breathing and the rain outside. It’s fainter now than before. Slowing down. When it stops, he’ll leave.
That thought leaves me cold. I’m not the kind of woman who has one-night stands. Is this going to be anything more than sex to Garrett?
Sin has been telling me since I got here that I needed to get with a guy. For pleasure, for myself, not to be tied into another relationship. I didn’t think I’d be able to do it. Being in a relationship with Garrett isn’t on the cards.
And it’s okay. Because this sex… This is going to live with me for a very long time.
It’s cold when Garrett moves away. I don’t turn until I’ve heard the swish of fabric. He’s pulled the ridiculous sweatpants back on again, not even the pink flower conceals the genuine sex appeal of the man. His body is a work of art, literally.
My eyes roam over his tattoos as he grabs the T-shirt he was wearing. He doesn’t put it on, he slips it over my head and helps put my arms through the holes, then lowers it down over my hips.
Moving a few steps back, I get lost in the storm of his eyes, the intensity of the expression on his handsome face. Okay, now comes the awkward part, I guess.
The beep of the drier jolts me.
“I’ll get it,” Garrett says. He glances at the counter behind me. “You should drink some water.”
My eyes follow him as he disappears around the corner. I rub at my butt which is beginning to ache from slamming down on the counter. There is a deep pulling sensation between my legs that isn’t totally unpleasant, but I’ll feel for a few hours.
I’m going to need a bath, with lots of Epsom salt. I shake myself out of those thoughts. He hasn’t even left yet.
Turning to the bottled water I left out, I pour myself a glass and down half of it. Garrett comes back into the room wearing his freshly dried T-shirt and jeans. I wonder if he is wearing his underwear.
God get your mind out of the gutter. Can it be in the gutter, after what we did?
He walks over and takes the glass from my hand, draining it then setting it down beside me. He is so intense, even after that release. What do I do now? Thank him for the most orgasms I’ve ever had in one go. Or for letting me experience the pleasure from these piercings everyone told me about?
“You overthink things,” he says, reaching out and touching my lower lip with his thumb. “Let your mind go quiet.”
What does that mean?
“Draw,” he adds, then turns and grabs his boots. “It’ll help.”
They’re still soaked and are going to be uncomfortable but there is nothing I can do to help him with that. He wants me to draw? It has always calmed me, that’s true.
Do I need calming? Yes, because my mind is running rampant with thoughts on what happens now.
“I don’t know what to say to that,” I admit. “This isn’t usual conversation after I do… that,” I indicate the counter. “With someone.”
“If you can’t say it, then we’re going to have a problem, Vixen,” he leans in close. “You mean, after we fucked .”
I blow out a shaky breath. He’s got me in a chokehold and his hands are nowhere near me.
“I have to go, Phoenix texted about something at the shop.”
I nod, watching him getting his boots on.
He grimaces at the wet leather but laces them up anyway. He walks toward the front door but pauses by the drawings I’ve framed and put on the wall. One is a design I created as part of my final exams in college. The other is my last professional design. I lost that contract.
He stares at them for so long, I fidget but move closer to look at them too.
“There’s a story in these,” he says.
“Same for your sketch pad,” I respond.
Garrett’s lip quirks and he runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah. And neither of us is willing to talk about it.”
My lips twist and I turn my attention back to the drawings.
“Stay away from that asshole down the hall.”
“What?” I turn back to him. “Why would you say that?”
“Just trust me,” he says, cryptically.
“I’m not sure you’ve done enough to earn my trust, Garrett.”
“That may be true. But I don’t say anything I don’t mean.”
And on that bombshell, he walks out.