Chapter 27 Elijah
ELIJAH
“Are you sure?”
In the soft light of the kitchen, Calliope’s eyes are a shade darker each time she blinks and her smile is so warm that I might as well be settling down in front of a warm fire.
“I’m sure. I’d hate for anything to happen to you. Plus, you’d need to call a taxi to get back to your cold car and then drive back to your hotel.” Her grip tightens slightly on my wrist. “Stay.”
“Okay.” My heart skips a beat and a sudden bubble inflates in my chest, threatening to burst and betray just how excited I am to be included.
Calliope’s smile widens at my agreement and she releases my wrist, then tilts her head. “Follow me. Quietly.”
I do exactly what she asks and we walk through her oddly destroyed hallway, then up her stairs and all the way to the room at the end. She pauses just before her door and points to the door on the left. “Bathroom?”
“Please.”
“I’ll meet you in here.” She heads on toward the door at the end of the hall, and I slip into the bathroom, closing the door gently behind me.
I’m staying. This could mean everything and nothing.
The fact that she trusts me in her home with her kid is a huge step, but then she could just be overly polite and doing what she thinks is right.
Then again, the way she grabbed me and how she spoke fuels my hope that I’m staying because she really wants me to.
After relieving myself, I wash my hands and stare at myself in the square mirror above the sink.
Color lights up my cheeks and my eyes sparkle.
My usually perfectly combed hair is ruffled all over my head and my T-shirt is stained with pizza sauce and I didn’t even notice.
It’s so normal and yet oddly comforting.
For the first time in a long time, I felt like I lived through a day rather than drifted by, simply existing.
Once my hands and face are dry, I ease out of the bathroom and into Calliope’s bedroom.
She’s pulled blankets and pillows out of the single cupboard near her window, where sheer pink curtains have been draped shut and bunched to make the room as dark as possible.
Light warms the air from her bedside lamp, an ornate metal item with a shimmering pink shade that has several small holes decorated over the top.
They cause the light to display on the walls like a hundred stars have fallen and attached to the cream walls.
Calliope’s bed rests in the middle, with several pillows near the headboard that look immensely cozy to settle into. She spots me and smiles, holding blankets in her arms.
“I’m okay on the floor,” I say before she can mention any self-sacrificing choices about giving me her bed.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive. If anything, it’ll definitely be softer than my hotel bed.”
“Aw.” Her face crumples slightly. “Is it really that bad?”
“I’m a man used to luxury,” I tease softly, keeping my voice low. “You know how it is.”
“If you’re sure.” She passes the armful of blankets to me and tosses a few pillows onto the floor next to her bed.
As she works, I finally notice the shelf near the door I just walked through.
It’s filled with toy ponies with different colored manes, some action-adventure books, and a couple of dolls. Not exactly what I expected.
“This is my childhood room,” Calliope says when she catches me staring, and I turn back to face her. “My own room back at my place is very different.”
“Oh, of course. I remember your saying you were staying here because…”
“Because of my father.” She pauses after pulling the blankets down on her bed, then she clears her throat. “Could you turn around? I need to—”
“Of course!” I spin around immediately and face the door.
“Thanks.”
“Can I ask what happened to your hallway? And your lounge? It all looks very…” Despite my search, no polite words rise to the surface so I end up trailing off.
Calliope groans behind me above the rustle of clothing. “Don’t ask,” she sighs. “It’s a disaster I’m too tired to think about.”
“Of course.” I nod. I’ll ask later.
“Okay, I’m good.” I turn back around and she’s tucked into a floral nightdress with her hair scooped up to the top of her head. “Do you want to change?”
“I can do it under the blanket.”
Calliope leans one knee on her bed, giving me a glimpse of her bare skin as the fabric rides slightly up her thigh. “Are you sure you’ll be okay on the floor?”
“Promise.”
She seems unconvinced but climbs into bed anyway. I toe off my boots, wrap a blanket around my waist, and quickly shimmy out of my pants. My shirt follows and out of the corner of my eye, despite how Calliope is purposefully averting her eyes, I catch her glancing my way.
I smile inside, fighting to keep my face neutral. Placing one blanket down, I settle onto it and cover myself with the other. “Goodnight, Calliope.”
“Goodnight, Elijah,” she calls softly from her bed, and the room drifts into darkness as she turns off the light.
Silence falls, other than the soft skim of Calliope moving about under her blankets. I close my eyes as a giddiness sweeps through me. I feel like a teenager again with how exciting it is to be lying on Calliope’s floor, surrounded by fabrics that smell like her, and after such a good day.
Get a hold of yourself.
I roll my eyes and close them, trying to settle, but unfortunately, the afternoon on the rink is playing havoc with my muscles, particularly my thighs.
It’s also colder than I expect and before I know it, a constant shiver is radiating up and down my spine.
I grit my teeth, roll over, and bundle myself up.
A little cold is a good price to pay for being here.
Until Calliope’s soft voice drifts down from the bed. “Elijah, I can hear you shivering from here.”
“I’m okay,” I whisper back as my voice sounds infinitely louder in the dark. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” She pauses and fabric rustles. “Come to bed.”
My heart jumps violently in my chest and I slowly roll over. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I don’t want to wake up to an icicle on my floor. Please, come to bed.”
How can I resist an invitation like that?
Scarcely able to hide an excited smile, I climb to my feet and reach for the bed blindly in the dark.
Calliope’s warm hands clasp around my bare forearm, and she draws me in and down, then throws warm blankets over me, which causes a sudden, violent shiver to rock through me from head to toe.
“I’m used to the cold so it’s really okay,” I say as I settle into her amazingly soft pillows. The warmth wraps around me as Calliope suddenly presses against my side and rubs her hand over my chest.
“Better?” she whispers.
“Much better.” I can just about make out the soft angles of her face in the dark, and a trail of fire follows the path of her hand across my chest.
“You’re so cold,” she murmurs.
“I’m warming up.”
“Good.” Her hand slides back across my chest and then hesitates. Despite being barely able to see her, I catch a subtle glint near her mouth where the faint light coming through her curtains catches on her tongue as she licks her lip.
“Better?” she repeats, her voice soft and hoarse.
“Infinitely,” I whisper.
“Good.” Her entire body presses against me, from shoulder to calf, and every inch of her exudes inviting warmth. It’s either the blankets or she runs hot, I can’t tell. Then her cheek settles against my shoulder and my heart soars.
I should hold back but I can’t help myself. Through the dark, I reach for her and cradle the soft curve of her jaw with enough pressure to tilt her head up. Then, I kiss her.
And she kisses me back.
A soft, sweet press of lips with nothing behind it other than appreciation and a slight hunger just to feel her once again. But when I try to break the kiss to speak, Calliope’s hand slides back over my chest and uses it to brace herself and lean deeper into the kiss.
Part of me remains distantly aware that two children and her mother are sleeping somewhere else in the house, but it’s not enough to make me stop. Not when her leg slides against mine as she shifts against me, then lifts and slides into my lap.
I drop my hand from her jaw to her thigh, caressing from her knee up to the curve of her ass and pushing her nightdress higher as it gathers against my wrist. She leans into me ,so I grip her thigh and guide her knee around my hip as I roll over the top of her and press her into the mattress.
Both her hands caress the sides of my neck and then one slides up into my hair.
Not a word is spoken.
I follow the softness of her gasps when I roll my hips down against the heat between her legs, trust the weaving movements of her lips as she kisses me repeatedly, and give myself over to the thrill of heat that jolts through me when her other hand drops to my shoulder and grips so tight that her nails press deep into my skin.
I’m turned on in an instant. I want to devour her.
Barely a breath and my cock is straining against my boxers.
I can’t hide it on the next roll of my hips and Calliope smothers her gasp in my mouth, tugging hard on my hair.
My hand on her thigh slides higher, dipping underneath her nightshirt and sweeping along her abdomen where a long, thin scar catches on my fingertips.
A scar… from Nick?
Not wanting to pause or highlight my curiosity, I glide my hand up further and grasp a handful of her breast. The softness draws a moan from my throat and she tugs on my hair again, arching into me like a taut bowstring.
I’m losing my mind.