Chapter 22
Caleb
I can’t help the smile cresting my face as I lie on my side, just watching my girl sleep.
When I came to Roxie’s doorstep a few hours ago, this was not how I expected we would end up.
Together.
In bed.
Naked.
And thoroughly fucked.
In fact, this night started out as being one of the most terrifying nights of my life.
How was I supposed to know that it would transform into this?
Little did I know that it would become a night I would cherish for all the best reasons.
I wasn’t lying when I told her I had nowhere else to go.
After helplessly watching Jack have a seizure, I was so consumed with debilitating fear that I knew the only person who could talk me off the ledge was her—my Roxie.
But when she opened the door, not even the sight of her beautiful face could ease my crippling anguish.
All I could see was my pain.
All I could feel was suffering.
A misery so intense that it maddened the mind and tormented the heart.
All I wanted was to desperately feel anything else but the agony I was in.
And she did that for me.
For one beautiful moment, Roxie took all that suffocating pain away.
With her kiss.
With her body.
With her heart.
And for the first time in months, I was able to breathe again.
As if the weight of all my guilt and grief had miraculously been lifted off my chest, the excruciating boulder that had sat there for the last few months was nowhere to be found.
Her touch alone gave me the reprieve I longed for.
But I know it’s still there.
I can feel its eyes on me, ready to claw its way back inside me.
But it won’t dare return. Not just yet.
Not while I’m still staring at her lovely face.
Not while she’s within an arm’s reach.
Here, despair can’t sink its teeth into me like it wants to.
If these stolen moments of happiness are all I can obtain, it’s enough.
It’s more than I deserve.
Unable to stop myself, I swipe the loose lock of hair that has fallen to her face, needing to see her in all her splendor.
“It’s rude to stare,” she whispers, alerting me that she’s awake.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t,” she yawns out of pure exhaustion. “I’m just not used to sharing a bed.”
“Neither am I, though I am starting to see the benefits of it,” I tease, pulling her closer to me so she can feel how hard I am.
“I can tell.” She smiles, her eyelids still heavy with sleep.
“Are you sure? I wouldn’t be opposed to giving you a little demonstration of the benefits of sharing a bed with me.”
“Sometimes I forget how young you are. Only a twenty-something-year-old would have this much stamina.” She sighs before snuggling closer to me.
“Is that a problem? Being ten years younger than you?” I ask, wanting to know exactly how many obstacles I have in my way before conquering her heart like she’s conquered mine.
“It is when I have work in the morning, and you refuse to let me sleep.” She giggles softly.
“Well, since you’re up,” I taunt, placing her on her back and lifting the sheet over us until we’re both cocooned under it again.
“Caleb—” she begins to protest, but it quickly dies on the tip of her tongue when I start kissing every inch of her body.
“Shh, love. This won’t take long,” I lie before plucking one of her nipples into my mouth and sucking on it.
“You’re incorrigible,” she moans, her fingers digging into my hair.
“What I am is hungry for you. And I’m not sure that will ever change. I fucking can’t get enough of you.”
I feel her body soften at my confession, her legs parting of their own accord and wrapping themselves around my waist. I lick and tease her nipples, one at a time, while my hand slithers in between her thighs, finding her already wet and wanting.
My back molars grind at the responsiveness of her body to my touch.
One kiss, and Roxie’s pussy becomes wetter than Niagara Falls.
That knowledge fucking does something to a man—knowing his woman wants him as much as he wants her.
“Roxie… love,” my voice comes out rough and strangled as my thumb starts playing with her clit. “Tell me what you want. I need you to say it again.”
“What?” she moans out, already lost in a myriad of sensations I’m inflicting on her.
“I said,” I start before inserting two digits into her soaked pussy, making her back arch off the bed, “I want to hear you tell me what you want me to do to you.”
“I… I…” her chest heaves for breath. “I want you to fuck me, Caleb. Please.”
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!
Hearing the respectable and sophisticated Dr. Roxanne Seymour curse and beg for my cock, might be the best thing these ears have ever heard.
“Such a good girl,” I praise, pulling my digits out of her pussy to shove them in my mouth. Her amber eyes light up in flames as she watches me sucking her essence clean off my fingers while I run my cock up and down her slick slit.
“Do you need me to go slow again?” I ask since I know this is all still very new to her.
When Roxie admitted that she hadn’t been with anyone since her late husband’s passing, I knew this was a big deal for her. It wasn’t just a fuck, but an act of intimacy.
Like hell would I ever take advantage of the gift she’s giving me.
Not in this lifetime or the next.
So, if she needs me to go slow, I will.
If I have to use a goddamn condom every time we fuck, then I’ll do that too.
Whatever she needs to feel safe and loved.
That’s all I care about.
“No,” she pants. “Actually, I don’t want to go slow at all,” she says before kicking the sheet off us and pushing me to the other side of the bed until she’s straddling me.
“Oh, fuck,” I groan when she grabs a condom from the dresser and rips the foil in two.
My chest threatens to cave in on itself when her deft fingers wrap themselves around the base of my cock and sheath the condom on me.
I’m not even inside her yet, and I already want to come just with the vision of her putting a goddamn condom on me. It will forever be engraved in my mind as the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
There’s only one thing missing that would put the cherry on top of this erotic fantasy.
“Roxie, baby, put your glasses on.”
Her eyebrows shoot up high at the bizarre request, but the coy little smile that is tugging at the corner of her lips tells me that she’s into it.
With my penetrating gaze never wavering from hers, I grab what I’m looking for on top of her nightstand and hand it over to her.
She puts her black-framed glasses on and arranges her wild, russet-brown hair into a bun, and my balls feel like they’re about to explode at the sight.
Funny how sometimes your wildest fantasies pale in comparison to the real thing.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Roxie. I swear to God, there isn’t a woman that can compare to you.”
Her eyes slant, touched by my words, coaxing me to lift slightly off the bed just so I can cradle her in my arms and kiss her. Roxie melts into me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and her legs around my waist, using her fingers to tug at the strands of hair at the nape of my neck. Fully lost in our kiss, I grab her by the hips and sink my cock inside her with one hard thrust.
“Argh,” she moans, her head lolling back.
“No,” I grunt, grabbing the nape of her neck to pull her face to me.
“I want to look at your face as I fuck you.”
The golden flecks in her whiskey-colored eyes shine so bright that they almost resemble incandescent stars.
Droplets of sweat pour down our brows, but neither one of us dares to break the connection to wipe it off, too enraptured by staring into our eyes as our bodies become one.
But she’s so tight. So motherfucking tight that it becomes almost unbearable not to come.
Even as my balls tighten and my cock pounds her sweet pussy, every thrust becoming more tortuous than the last, I hold my ground, needing her pleasure to come before mine.
“Caleb,” she starts to pant, her nails digging into my back, leaving half-crescent moons on my flesh.
“Let go, baby. Just let go,” I encourage since something seems to always block her release, as if something were telling her it’s wrong to experience such ecstasy.
“I… I…” she stammers in hesitation.
Like fuck will I let anything come in the way of my woman coming on my cock.
I lean in and kiss her mouth, my hand sliding in between us just so I can flick her clit as I continue to pound into her warm heat. And it’s with a kiss that her walls start closing in on me, strangling my cock in a way that has me coming in tandem with her. Roxie’s body starts convulsing in my arms, her pussy sucking every last drop of my cum. I swallow her euphoric moans and save them somewhere deep inside me, hidden away in a place where neither grief nor sadness will ever find them.
And when we fall back on the bed, our naked bodies satiated and entwined with one another, my soul feels lighter than it has ever been.
Roxie not only took away all my suffering tonight, but she restored something far more precious to me. Something I believed I had lost a long time ago.
She gave me hope.
The next morning, rays of sunlight warm my face, kissing me awake.
My heavy eyelids remain shut as my arm stretches over to Roxie’s side of the bed, frowning when I find it cold and empty.
The fuck?
I immediately open my eyes to verify that she’s nowhere in sight. My frown dips further when I find my clothes washed and dried, neatly placed on a chair in the corner of the room.
I reluctantly get out of bed and open her bedroom door, the smell of coffee, eggs, and bacon coming from downstairs.
I’m reminded that, unlike me, she has to go to work this morning.
So, as much as I would love nothing more than to spend my day in bed with her, I know she would never leave her patients hanging just to play hooky with me.
But as I stand in her hallway, I turn my attention to the closed door at the end of the hall—the same one Roxie almost had a panic attack last night just by me looking at it.
I should probably wait and let her tell me what’s behind the door when she’s ready.
I should respect her space and wait for her to come to me to explain why the very existence of that room caused such anxiety in her.
Yep.
That’s what I should do.
But is that what I actually do?
Hell-the-fuck-no.
While I keep an ear out for Roxie, just in case she decides to come back upstairs, I walk over to the door and quietly turn the doorknob. But when I look inside, I’m troubled by what I find.
As I step further into the bedroom, a thick layer of dust hangs in the air, swirling into tiny vortexes with each movement I make. Sunlight filters through the windows, illuminating the particles floating in the stale air, giving the room an eerie appearance. The once grand furniture is draped in cobwebs, and the bed is coated in a blanket of dust bunnies, untouched for what seems like years, a silent testament to the neglect this master suite has endured.
And then it dawns on me—this must have been the bedroom she shared with Gregg.
Fuck. Yep. Now I understand what they mean by curiosity killing the cat.
Seeing this room—this untouched shrine to her late husband—fucking guts me.
I quickly retrace my steps, closing the forbidden door as quietly as possible, and hightail it out of there, back to Roxie’s room.
Since I can still feel dust particles all over my pores and throat, I rush to her ensuite to brush my teeth and grab a quick shower. All the while doing my very best not to obsess about why the woman I’m in love with has such a fucking room in her house.
When I step out of the bathroom, I stare at the neat pile of clothes to the side and leave them exactly where they are, preferring to seek out my hostess in my birthday suit instead. Just because Roxie can’t ditch work doesn’t mean we can’t fit in a proper goodbye.
I walk downstairs and find her in her kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee and staring into oblivion.
“Good morning, love,” I coo and place a tender kiss on her shoulder, coaxing her to turn around.
Her eyes bug out of their sockets when she sees me naked, walking into her kitchen.
“I… uh… put your clothes in the bedroom upstairs. Didn’t you see them?” she asks, averting her gaze from my cock.
“I saw them.”
“If you saw them, then why are you still naked?” she asks, her hand covering her eyes.
“Maybe because I like how flustered you get when I am,” I tease, brushing her red cheeks with my knuckles.
“Caleb,” she says, defeated. “Please put some clothes on. We need to talk.”
“Then talk.”
“Not while you’re naked,” she says, aggravated.
“Does my nudity affect the words coming out of your mouth? It sure didn’t last night when you asked me to fuck you.”
She spins around to face me, her hand no longer covering her eyes and falling flat on the marble countertop. Her disapproving glower is now aimed directly at me, and my state of undress no longer seems to be a problem.
“That was different.”
“Was it?”
“Fine. Have it your way.” She lets out an exasperated exhale. “As I was saying, we need to talk. Last night was—”
“Was incredible,” I finish for her.
“A mistake,” she states.
“I prefer my description, Roxie.” I wink.
“Caleb, I’m serious. Last night shouldn’t have happened. I could lose my job if it gets out that I slept with one of my clients. Worse, I could lose my license.”
“Who’s going to tell them? Not me.”
“That’s not how this works,” she retorts adamantly.
“Okay, then explain it to me. How does this work?” I ask, leaning against the counter.
“Well, for one, I can no longer be your therapist. Not after I took advantage of you last night.”
I can’t help but laugh.
“This isn’t funny, Caleb,” she blurts out in frustration.
“Oh, but it is, Roxie. Do you honestly believe that you took advantage of me?”
“I know I did,” she replies softly, guilt and shame coating every word. “You were so vulnerable… so lost.” She closes her eyes and shakes her head before continuing. “I had no right to do what I did. I was supposed to offer you tools to overcome that state of misery. And instead… I seduced you.”
Oh, my God.
She’s serious.
She actually believes the shit she’s spewing.
In three strides, I’m on her, pinning her between the kitchen island and my naked frame.
“You did not seduce me, Roxie. The only one who’s doing the seducing around here is me.”
She shakes her head and shoves me away.
“It’s not true. I was the one in a position of power. I was supposed to help you. Not—”
“Fuck me?”
“Yes.” Her cheeks pink furiously.
“If I recall correctly, I was the one who asked you to help me last night. And you did.”
“That’s not how I should have helped you.”
“It doesn’t matter how, just that you did. You helped me, Roxie. For the first time in months, I felt like myself again. I was able to finally… breathe. Don’t go and spoil it now with all this rational thinking.”
“This isn’t a question of me spoiling things or not. This is a question of ethics and how I crossed a line that was set in stone.”
“Ethics? Ethics?” I parrot, getting tired of this fucking discussion.
I bridge the gap between us again, slide my hand under her hair, and clasp her cheek.
“Look at me, Roxanne. I wouldn’t have survived last night if it wasn’t for you. You have no idea the shit that was in my head when I showed up at your doorstep. I was so far gone that I didn’t even recognize myself. You brought me back. Don’t let your judgment or logic taint our night together. You fucking saved me last night. In more ways than you’ll ever know.”
She stares into my eyes, her amber flares doing something to my insides.
“It can’t happen again,” she whispers softly.
“I don’t accept that.” I frown.
“Yes, you do. If I tell you that last night will never repeat itself, I know you’ll respect my wishes.”
“Yeah? How do you know that?” I take a step back away from her.
“Because you’re honorable. And good. You’d never force anything on a woman. If I tell you that last night was all it was, and that I’m uncomfortable repeating it, then I know you will respect my wishes, even if you don’t agree with them.”
“You’re talking to the wrong Donovan. My brother is the noble one. Not me.”
“That’s not true,” she says, placing her hands on my cheeks. “You are as honorable as he could ever be.”
I try to pull away, but she keeps me in place.
“Caleb, now it’s your turn to listen to me. Last night…” she swallows, “was the first night I had been with someone since my husband passed. I thought I’d never want that type of physical intimacy again. And even if, by some miracle, I was attracted to someone enough to want to sleep with them, I knew the first time would have been awkward and intimidating for me. But with you… everything just felt so natural. You put me at ease in a way I wasn’t prepared for. You took care of me. You made me feel safe and wanted. I forgot what that felt like. So… you weren’t the only one who got saved last night. You saved me, too.”
The emotion in her voice has my cock twitching, but it’s my heart that pays attention to her words.
“I can make you feel like that again. Cherished. Loved. Wanted,” I coo, wrapping one arm around her while grabbing her wrist to place her palm over my beating heart.
“No.” She shakes her head. “We can’t go back there.”
“Why not? We were so good at it.”
“Because—”
“Because what? Tell me, Roxie. Why can’t we be together when I know you feel the same way about me as I feel for you.”
“You can’t know that.”
“I do. I can feel it in your pulse… how your heart speeds up just by being in my arms.”
Her lips part as she stares at my hand on her wrist, rubbing the tender inside with my thumb.
“So tell me the real reason why you’re trying to push me away? Why can’t you be with me?”
“Because… I can’t. I just can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“I don’t see a difference, do you?” she says, her amber eyes starting to well up with tears.
“Can you answer me something?”
She nods, closing her eyelids so I don’t see that every word she’s uttering hurts her as much as me.
“Is the reason you don’t want us to be together because you’re afraid of losing your job or because you’re afraid of finally moving on with your life and past the memory of your late husband?”
Her eyelids swing open while her hands push me off her again.
“My job,” she lies with a stern expression on her face.
“I took you for many things, Roxie, but not once did I think you were a liar. Or a coward.”
She flinches at the accusation, but I stand my ground.
“Okay, Doc. If you want to play it like that, fine. I’ll leave you be. But whenever you get tired of sharing your bed with a ghost, remember that you have a willing, healthy-bodied man just aching to do the job. I’m right here. I’m right fucking here. He isn’t.” I slam my closed fist to my chest.
But when she refuses to say anything in turn, preferring to face the other way just so she doesn’t have to look at me, I walk back upstairs, get dressed, and leave.
But I’m not done.
If she thinks I’ll give her up without a fight, she has another thing coming.