CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Callie gawks at our home for the next three days and two nights. “You rented a… mansion for us?”
I shift the truck into park and cut the engine. “Not quite. My buddy owns this place. He’s on the road and offered to let us stay for the weekend.”
Her lips replicate a tiny circle. “That’s very nice of him.”
“He owed me one.”
“Well, I’ll happily help you reap the reward. What’re we waiting for?” She gathers the pile of pictures taken along the trip and tucks them in her purse. The camera remains clutched in her grasp, ready to capture more memories.
“Before we go inside”—I pop the latch on the center console and snag the three envelopes stashed there—“choose one.”
Callie studies the fanned-out formation I’m holding for her picking. “What are these?”
“A selection process. We’ll do them all but you decide the order.” I shake the options.
“Ooooh, I like this game.” She plucks the middle choice from my grip and rips open the tab. “Dinner and a massage.”
“Solid start, sweetness. The fridge is stocked with your favorites. I’ll be the chef.”
She falters. “You’re going to prepare dinner?”
“Don’t look so shocked. It won’t be the first time,” I chuckle. “But don’t give me too much credit either. The prep is mostly done.”
“Does that still count as cooking?”
“You tell me.”
“I think you’re getting off easy,” she giggles.
“That remains to be seen.”
Her eyes narrow. “Are you talking about sex?”
My dick jerks on command. “When it involves you? Always.”
“Allow me to repeat myself,” she whispers. “What’re we waiting for?”
“Trust me, it’s in the best interest of both of us.” I lean over to give her a kiss. “Get your sexy ass in there while I grab the bags.”
Her happiness grins against my lips. “Yes, boyfriend.”
But Callie hasn’t made it beyond the foyer when I arrive with our stuff. Her wide stare swings in every direction. I stand beside her to appraise the interior that’s more than likely professionally decorated.
To our left is a sitting area that has more couches than a hotel lobby. The paintings are probably originals to further boast about Luke’s wealth. On the right, there’s a long hallway that leads who knows where. A grand staircase promises more riches to behold on the second level. The vaulted ceilings trail to the polished floor. Straight ahead is an entire wall made of glass, providing a panoramic view of the rural property.
It’s too damn fancy for my style, which is why I barely notice the features. My gaze rarely strays from Calliope Rose.
She spins in a slow circle while admiring the crystal chandelier. “I can’t believe someone lives here.”
“Do you want a house like this?”
Her gaze meets mine. “No, it’s too… much. I’d get lost every day.”
My arm cinches around her waist, pulling until we’re locked in a hug. “Don’t worry, sweetness. I’ll always find you.”
She sighs into my embrace. “This is really nice.”
“It’s my goal to please you,” I murmur into her hair.
Callie draws in a deep breath, which I imagine fills her lungs with my scent. “You’ve gone above and beyond.”
My laughter jostles her head on my chest. “I’ve barely begun. Can I feed you?”
She peers up at me from under hooded eyelids. There’s a rosy blush staining her cheeks, leading me to believe she’s in the mood for something other than food. “Yes.”
I link her fingers with mine, steering us toward the kitchen. The open concept demands recognition and has more square footage than my entire first floor. Luke is probably overcompensating for what he lacks in other departments. “Showy bastard. He’s gonna catch a bunch of shit for this.”
Callie giggles. “It’s extremely elegant.”
“Sure,” I grunt.
“Walter would’ve worn himself out sliding on these tiles.” She taps the nearest white slab with her toe. “I wonder if he feels abandoned.”
I scoff. “He’s in very excellent care.”
“Sydney was honored when we asked her to watch him.”
My head bobs. “She takes puppy sitting very seriously.”
Callie suddenly gasps, peeking through a set of French doors. A huge arrangement of chrysanthemums sits in the center of a massive dining table. “Oh, my! Those are stunning.”
“Glad they arrived on time,” I note absently.
Her focus swings back to me. “You ordered them?”
I nod again. “There should be more in our room.”
Unshed tears glisten in her stare. “You went through a lot of trouble for me.”
I cage her chin between my thumb and forefinger, tilting until her lips are upturned for me to kiss. “There’s never trouble when you’re involved.”
“Tell that to your customers,” she teases against my mouth.
“That’s their own damn fault.” But I can’t be too pissed considering where that night led. And once my mind wanders between her legs, it’s impossible to stop.
I’ve feasted on her at every available opportunity since that evening. The memory of Callie’s taste on my tongue from breakfast in bed this morning is still fresh, but hours on the road have passed since then. Something gleams from beside me to snatch my attention. I smirk at what’s waiting for recognition.
The granite island is large enough to serve as a buffet. My mind travels to a more explicit meal. Callie splayed out, wriggling in rapture. I’d lick any excess that dribbles onto the smooth surface. Arousal pulses from behind my zipper, making the denim stretch tight.
I widen my stance while glancing behind me. “What’re the chances we can find cherries in there?”
Warmth melts the blue in her eyes into a lustful shade. “You’re bad.”
My smirk is dipped in filthy intentions. “You love it.”
“I do.”
“Only one way to find out.” I back to the fridge, refusing to let Callie leave my sight.
She follows my lead until we’re perusing the contents in the fridge. “Is that tater tot hotdish?”
I remove the covered casserole dish. “My mother’s recipe.”
“How?”
The container thumps on the counter. “I didn’t ask questions.”
“Sounds like magic.”
“Or good fortune.” I motion to our surroundings. “My buddy asked for a list of stuff to order. This was at the top.”
“I can’t wait to try it.” Suggestion leaks from Callie’s reply.
My dick throbs in response while I preheat the oven. “Want a salad on the side?”
“Are you going to toss it yourself?”
I choke on my own spit. “Good Lord, woman. Do you know what you’re asking for?”
She blinks, the picture of innocence. “A tossed salad?”
The possibility—slight as it might be—of me getting in her ass is enough to blow my load. I blindly reach for the nearest stationary object, gripping the edge until my knuckles bleed white. It takes several moments to talk myself off the ledge. “Coming right up, sweetness.”
She doesn’t react to my uneven tone. “Can you check if there’s ranch? Extra creamy is best.”
I clench my eyes shut, begging for a reprieve. My feet stumble forward to do her bidding. “Take a seat. I’ll get this whipped up for us.”
“Can I help?” Her temptation is right behind me, far too close to remain unaffected.
“Nah, I got this. Relax for a bit.”
The scrape of a chair announces Callie doing as requested. “If you insist.”
It doesn’t take long to gather supplies. All the fixings we could ever want are available, including her desired dressing.
My motions are a blur as I dump the pre-packaged ingredients into a bowl. It’s about muscle memory at this point.
“Are you okay, boyfriend?”
I can feel her interest scalding my back. “Couldn’t be better.”
But that’s a lie, and she must hear it. “Are you sure? Your movements are very… stiff.”
I hang my head, allowing a tortured groan to spill free. “Just hungry.”
“Want me to put in the hotdish?” Callie is already off her chair, sliding on bulky mitts. “How long should I set the timer for?”
My mind whirls in a useless cycle when she bends to set the pan on the rack. “Um…”
“Twenty minutes is usually sufficient for reheating.”
“Perfect,” I breathe.
She glances over in my direction. Her eyes widen at whatever state she finds me in. “You’re really… excited.”
I don’t need to look down at the evidence bulging in my jeans. “Occupational hazard.”
“From tossing salad?”
Another punch of lust jabs me in the gut and I almost fold in half. “Just from being around you.”
She begins reaching for me. “Do you want me to—?”
My arm straightens outward to halt her advance. “We should eat first.”
“What if I’m not hungry?” Callie twirls a lock of her dark hair, a sneaky glint entering her gaze.
“You said I could feed you.” My voice cracks in a plea for willpower.
Her focus slips downward. “Mhmm.”
“Sweetness,” I rasp.
“Yes, boyfriend?”
“Be careful what you wish for,” I recite the phrase like the warning it is.
She licks her bottom lip. “I prefer throwing caution to the wind. Let’s do it. Together.”
“You’re testing my restraint, love.”
Callie steps up to me, gripping the front of my shirt in her fist. “How do I make it break?”
“Fuuuuuck,” I exhale across her forehead. It appears my earlier aspirations might come to fruition after all. My palms roam to her ass and I press into her. Hard against soft. She gasps at my rigid need. I begin lifting her to the ledge of the island. The height will put her pussy directly in my face once I’m seated.
But then she struggles against my intentions. “No, not here.”
“Do you have something against this pristine eating surface?”
“I’m ready to have sex,” Callie blurts. “In a bed, if that’s… agreeable.”