Chapter Sixteen
Charlotte
“S hit,” Winslow curses when Michael kicks Cal in the stomach.
“He can’t do that,” I snap. “Are you going to do something?”
He looks down at his feet, ignoring the other cop. I take off toward Cal, like I’m going to be able to assist, but Winslow snags my bicep. My phone nearly drops to the asphalt at my feet, but I manage to keep hold of it. Dad hasn’t said much in the past couple of minutes. I soon realize why.
“You have to the count of three to take your hands off my child before I make it my fucking job to destroy your career,” Dad snarls from the front of Cal’s truck.
Winslow drops his hold on my arm.
“Dad!” I cry out his name, running over to him.
He pulls me in for a hug, his body tight with fury. I keep the tears at bay. Dad’s here. Dad will fix this. He’ll take care of us.
“What is Cal being arrested for?” Dad asks, his voice icy and cutting the air like a blade.
“I, uh, for…” Winslow stutters over his words. Dad has that affect over people when he’s in king of the town mode. Right now, he’s bursting with power and he wants to use it against anyone who’s tried to hurt me.
“I suggest you go sort it out with the other officer and make a decision one way or the other. You either put him in the back of your squad car and book him, or you release him.” Dad’s voice brooks no room for argument. “Now, Winslow.”
I pull away to see Winslow obeying Dad’s order. He walks over to Michael. We can’t hear what they’re saying from here, but Michael is visibly enraged. His shoulders move as he breathes heavily and his face is beet-red.
“Dad,” I whimper.
“Shh,” he murmurs, stroking my hair. “Don’t say a word, sweetheart.”
I nod against him, inhaling his familiar scent. Today he’s dressed in a crisp, button-down white shirt, navy tie, and dark slacks, so he must have left from his office.
Michael doesn’t come over to us. Instead, he leaves Winslow and Cal, storming to his squad car. He peels out, tires screeching loudly. Winslow helps Cal to his feet and removes the cuffs. I feel like I can breathe again.
Cal remains near Winslow’s squad car as he hands him back his paperwork and ID. Then, he writes him a ticket. As soon as he passes it to Cal, he hurries to his squad car and bails.
The storm that is Cal charges our way, his green eyes blazing with emotion. Worry. Anger. Disgust. At first, I think they’re all directed at me, but then when he is close enough, he grabs my hand, tugging me to him. His dress shirt is filthy, but I don’t care, I hug him tight, silently thanking him for thinking fast in getting Dad here.
“Bonnie canceled my patients for the rest of the day,” Dad says. “Come by the loft so we can talk.”
He doesn’t wait for me, just turns and heads back to his black BMW, surprising the hell out of me. Cal must be giving off some serious protective vibes. As soon as Dad drives off, I tilt my head up to look at Cal. His chin is scratched and bleeding. Green eyes dart all over my face as he assesses me for damage. Aside from the tears, I’m fine.
“Did he hurt you?” His soft voice trembles with barely contained rage.
“No,” I choke out. “He just scared me.”
When his hand went around my throat and he’d spat out threats in my face, I was thrust back to every encounter I’ve ever had with Ryan. I’d been reduced to a terrified little girl, caught in a trap just waiting to be destroyed.
Cal’s hand slides into my hair, his fingertips dragging along my scalp, making me shiver. He presses a kiss to my forehead and lets out a relieved sigh that makes my heart sing. Then a kiss to my nose. Finally a soft peck to my lips.
I tilt my head up, angling it a little to silently beg for a real kiss. With a ravenous groan, he indulges me in what I crave. His tongue swipes across mine, eager and owning. It sends a thrill down my spine.
Cal doesn’t kiss like a normal guy.
He kisses like he’s making a statement.
Proving a theory.
Passing a law.
All you can do is sign on the proverbial dotted line. Moan in agreement. Accept his dominating kiss and all his unspoken vows.
He kisses me until I’m clawing at his shirt, need buzzing through me. In a rough move, he jerks away, his green eyes searing hungrily into mine. Those intense eyes slide down to my swollen, wet lips.
“You kiss like you’re trying to steal my soul, evil woman.”
A smile tugs at my lips. “Did it work?”
“You’ve stolen something,” he grumbles as he, once again, hoists me into his truck.
The door closes before I can even process his words.
What did I steal besides his best friend?
Certainly not his heart.
I’m pretty sure Cal doesn’t have one of those up for grabs. He’s been a womanizing playboy for as long as I’ve known him. If he has a heart, it’s buried deep. Me, of all people, wouldn’t have been able to find it.
Yet, I’ve never seen him look at any of those party girls like he looks at me.
Every look is a promise. So many vows loaded into his stare. Declarations that I don’t deserve but he keeps throwing at me anyway.
And, like the greedy girl I am, I collect each and every one of them.
Cal stares out of the giant window of Dad’s loft that overlooks the Columbia River. It’s not a huge place, but big enough that Penny and I each have our rooms when we come to stay with him. His décor is sleek and modern, a far cry from the way Mom used to decorate our old house in Vermont. I like it, though. It’s so Dad. He’s always had a taste for the finer things in life.
“Samantha is on it,” Dad says, returning from his office. “I also ordered food. Cal, stay for dinner.”
Cal turns, nodding. After the whole police debacle, we came back to Dad’s where we explained everything that happened. Dad took it all in, barely able to contain his rage, and then he went to make phone calls. Cal’s been silent ever since.
“I think you need to move in here,” Dad says, dropping the bomb in my lap as he sits next to me on the sofa.
“What? Why? What about Mom?”
He flinches, hurt flashing in his eyes. “This isn’t about me keeping you from your mother,” he assures me. “After Ryan showing up at the house and then today with his father, I just think you’ll be safer here. I have a doorman and security in this building. Please don’t fight me on this, princess.”
I frown. “Mom will be sad.”
“Kelsey will get over it,” Cal grunts, coming to Dad’s aid. “He’s right.”
A shudder ripples through me as I recall the way I’d felt when Ryan emerged from the shadows. Helpless. Frozen in fear. terrified beyond belief. “Okay,” I croak out.
Dad lets out a rushed breath of relief. “I’d feel better if Penny came too. I want my girls safe.”
Dad’s phone rings. He glances at it and then mouths, “Samantha,” before rising and heading back to his office. Cal plops down in the spot Dad vacated.
“Rich bitch,” Cal teases, his green eyes glinting with meanness.
I roll my eyes. “He’s rich, not me.”
“But you’re a daddy’s girl, so it’s yours too.”
“Says the spoiled boy who owns a campground,” I taunt back.
He smirks. “Show me your room, loser. I want to test out the bed.”
“Asshole,” I grumble, but climb to my feet.
I lead him down the hallway to the bedroom across from the office. Dad can be heard talking loudly to Samantha, even through the closed door. I push into my room that’s been painted a pretty off-white. I like my room at Dad’s because it’s so clean and fresh. A blank canvas. The bedspread and pillows are white. Even the throw rug on the floor is white. It reminds me of the room I had in rehab, which actually brings back good memories.
My bedroom at home has horrible ones.
All of which include Ryan.
Cal sits down on the bed, bouncing a little, an evil smirk on his face. I shake my head as I open one of the drawers on the dresser. He’s quiet as I pull out some cotton shorts and a T-shirt. I start for the bathroom, but he shakes his head.
“You remember the deal, Hornet?” His green eyes flash with challenge.
“The one I made with the devil?”
He grins, wolfish. Full of bright, shiny teeth keen on devouring me. “That’s it.”
“Me changing clothes in front of you is somehow going to make my life a living hell?” I clarify. “I’m not afraid of you seeing me naked.”
He leans back on the bed, resting on his elbows. “I’m not done. Stripping is the first part.”
Cal Hutton thinks he unnerves me. Truth is, he lights a match on my battered soul that’s been shredded. I’m brittle and paper-thin. All he’s doing is making me burn. Transforming me from something weak and decaying to something bright and brilliant. It makes me feel powerful seeing the need in his eyes. I retake what was stolen from me.
In a slow way meant to torture, I peel off my shirt, revealing my black lacy bra. He gives nothing away. Not a smirk. Not a sharp breath. Nothing but the hungry glint in his eyes. I don’t back down, though. Reaching behind me, I unhook my bra, sending it to the floor with my shirt. His eyes burn a trail of heat from my lips to my breasts. At one time, I thought my C cups would have looked better as D cups and even begged Dad to let me get implants—which he vehemently denied. But, based on the way Cal drinks them in, I’d say they’re pretty perfect.
“Doing okay so far?” I murmur, unbuttoning my top button on my jeans.
His infamous smirk comes into play. “A job as a stripper isn’t in your future, English. I mean, sure, you’ve got the tits for it, but the whole seductive teasing thing needs some work.”
Rolling my eyes, I unzip my jeans and then shimmy them over my hips. For someone not interested in me being a stripper, he sure looks seconds from shoving all his money into my panties. This time, I’m the one smirking.
I kick away my jeans, but remain in my yellow socks and black panties. I may not be a stripper, but I was a cheerleader. I know how to move my body and demand attention. With confidence that comes easy in his presence, I prance over to him, swaying my hips for his benefit. His breath hitches when I place a knee on the bed beside his hip.
“Your dad could come in any second,” he mocks. “He’d be so shocked to know his daughter’s a slut.”
“Stripper,” I murmur, climbing onto his lap. “Sluts are the girls you fucked all summer.”
He sneers. “I didn’t fuck anyone this summer.”
My brows fly to my hairline. “Liar.”
“Why would I lie?” he asks as he sits up.
His hands grab my ass, dragging me over his cock that strains in his slacks. I grab onto his shoulders, steadying myself.
“Because you want to sleep with me,” I offer.
“I’ll fuck you no matter what, English. Whether I fucked everyone in Horn River or not.”
“Gross.”
He grips my hair, pulling down so that I’m staring up at the ceiling. Warm breath tickles my neck before he runs his tongue along my skin. I groan when he starts sucking a little path toward my collarbone. He nips at my flesh and then teases his tongue down to my breast. A whimper crawls out of me the second he sucks on my nipple.
Shamelessly, I work my hips along his hard shaft, needing to feel him. He bites on my nipple in a punishing way that makes my pussy clench.
“What are you going to do when Garrett walks in here?” he taunts, his breath hot against my nipple.
“He won’t. Dad respects a closed door. Always has.”
“So I can take advantage of you then?”
“It’s your funeral.”
He bites me again. It doesn’t hurt like it should. All it does is electrify my need for him. I want him to pull his cock out and slide me onto it, fucking me until we’re both sated.
“That feel good rubbing on me?” he murmurs, giving my ass a squeeze.
“Mmmhmm.”
“Get on the floor, loser.”
I smack his shoulder, shooting him a glare. “No.”
Fire flickers in his stare. “You wanted to be punished, practically agreed to it, so I’m going to punish you. On your knees, woman.”
“I get no pleasure?”
“Nope.”
“I have to suck your diseased dick?”
His grin is wicked. “Yep.”
“Fuck you.”
“Later,” he growls. “Now get down there and pull my dick out.”
We have a stare off, waiting for the other to back down. Neither of us does.
“You have a word that’ll get you out of this,” he reminds me. “If you want to pussy out, then use it.”
He’s so infuriating.
Sliding out of his lap, I give him an exaggerated thumbs-up. “Got it, Mr. Hutton .”
“I hate that fucking thumb. And it’s Cal,” he grinds out. “You’re about to choke on my dick, so you get to use the magical word.”
I huff but kneel between his spread thighs. My palms slide up his pant legs to where his cock strains in his slacks. Before I can undo the belt, he stops me, holding on to each wrist.
“When Trey first went into the hospital, they thought he’d need a blood transfusion. It was a wakeup call that I felt like I ought to be tested before donating blood. I slept with a lot of women.” His serious stare immobilizes me. “Turns out, I’m the wrong blood type for him anyway, but I did get a full panel of tests done. Miraculously, I’m negative.”
“Every girl wants to hear about all the girls her guy has fucked,” I deadpan. “Thanks for the lesson in your sexual history.”
His eyebrow cocks up at my sass. He doesn’t let go, which means he’s waiting on a response.
“I’m negative too, remember?” I pause to chew on my bottom lip. “And after what happened…” I blink back the burn in my eyes as I try not to let the loss of the baby consume me. “I’m also on birth control.”
He studies me for a beat, like he might ask me to elaborate on what I was about to say, but in the end, he nods.
“Suck my clean dick, loser.”
I punch his thigh, making him laugh. “I’m not doing it now.”
“Aww,” he taunts. “My girl needs coddling to get her to open that pretty mouth. What do you want to hear, English? That I think your tits are fucking divine? That my mouth waters to taste your pussy because I can smell your arousal from here and I’m starved for it?”
I squirm at his words. “That’s a good start. Keep going.”
“I think you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, absolutely no humor in his voice. “It makes me crazy. Angry. Stressed the fuck out. Bitter. It still doesn’t change the fact you’re the hottest girl I’ve ever seen.”
“That’s sweet, I think. Also kind of messed up.”
“Put my dick in your mouth, Charlie girl. Those juicy lips are too perfect to not be put to good use.”
I chew on the bottom one as I unbuckle his belt. His eyes sear into me as I unzip him. My hand wraps around his thick shaft, the piercings pressing into my palm. I want to gawk and inspect them up close, but figure now’s not the time. I’d heard a rumor his dick was pierced. Seeing and hearing about it are two different things. Feeling them is something altogether different.
“Lick it,” he growls. “Lick the tip and have a taste.”
His fingers are rough as they dig into my hair, tangling in my locks. It’s almost painful. Almost. Unlike Ryan, Cal toes the line between pleasure and pain, giving me something delicious I didn’t know I craved. Maybe it was something I was searching for and fell too deep the wrong way with Ryan.
With Cal, it seems measured and safe.
Dangerous but still delicate.
I flick my tongue out, my eyes darting up to meet his, as I circle his crown. The darkening in his green eyes tells me he wants me to taste the bead of pre-cum on the very tip, but he’s not the only one loving the idea of taunting the other. Ignoring his needy tip, I flatten my tongue and run it along the top of his shaft, licking each piercing of his Jacob’s Ladder all the way to the base where his dark hair is trimmed neat.
Four piercings.
God, that’s hot.
I bet it feels amazing. No wonder every girl in this town wants to ride Cal’s dick. I can’t even be mad at him. In Roux’s books she reads, we’d giggle over the girls in the story with the magical glitter pussies that makes all the heroes go stupid for.
Cal has a magical dick.
Complete with shiny jewelry.
“Damn, English,” he grunts. “You’re worshipping my dick with your tongue like it’s a fucking dripping ice cream cone. Stop licking and fucking eat it.”
I laugh, but I give in, sucking on just the crown, savoring the salty taste of what’s to come. He groans when I take him deeper, deliberately letting my teeth scrape over his flesh and piercings. I take him as far as I can go and then gag.
His grip on my hair tightens, making my eyes water. I tense, waiting for him to skullfuck me. Instead, he loosens his grip and pets me like a kitten. Something about the gentle touch brings tears to my eyes. I try to blink them away, but they slide out, splashing on his dick.
“Say the word, Charlie girl,” he murmurs, caressing my hair.
I meet his concerned stare, hot tears still falling and utter one word with my lips around his dick.
Cal.
Fierce pride shines in his eyes. It spurs me on to show him I’m worthy. I dig my claws into his thigh, reminding us both of that fact.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Dinner’s here,” Dad calls out from the other side of the door.
“We’ll be out in a second,” Cal responds, his voice even. “Char’s showing me her rock collection.”
Dad grouses under his breath and then barks out, “Jesus Christ, Hutton. You better not be defiling my daughter under my roof.”
“Never,” Cal says.
Cabinet doors start slamming in the kitchen. I continue to suck Cal’s dick until he lets out a small grunt in warning. Picking up my speed, I ready myself for his taste. He hisses and then his salty cum splashes my tongue. Greedily, I gulp it down, sucking him completely dry.
“Stand up,” he growls.
I pop off his dick and rise shakily to my feet. His hands find my hips as he stares up at me. “You’re mine this weekend. Make it happen.”
“And what about after?” I ask, pulling away.
He rises to his feet and stuffs his cock back in his slacks. Without losing eye contact, he buckles his pants and then steps forward. A strong hand gently grips my throat as he brings his nose to mine.
“Still mine, Hornet.”
He pecks me on the lips and then slips out of the room like he didn’t just blow my mind.
I’m Cal’s.
How did this even happen?
Why do I love it?
Will it last?
I don’t have the answers.
I’m not sure I even want them.
All I know is I want him. For now. For this weekend. For after, even though I don’t know how long the after is.