26
26
Juniper
Juniper: Left my bra under your pillow.
It’s green today.
Callum: Did you really?
Voice note from Callum: You’re a fucking tease, harpy.
Juniper: Ha! Not even thirty seconds between messages.
Did you run?
Callum: I’m fast when properly motivated.
Juniper: I know ;)
“What did you do to my cat?” Toothbrush in hand, I watched Shakespeare and Callum from my bathroom doorway.
Shakespeare, sensing the attention, flipped onto her back and stretched out her demon legs, allowing his unscathed fingers to coast down her belly.
Outrageous . Where was the hissing?
The bloodshed? “She looks high!”
“I’ve been known to have that effect on the ladies,” he said at the same moment Shakespeare purred, further proving his point.
“She makes that sound after I give her catnip.”
“No drugging necessary, some women actually enjoy my company.” He shot me a lazy smile, his hair slightly flattened at the back from where it had squished against the sofa cushions.
Other than a couple of flirty texts, we hadn’t spoken all day after our interruption from Alistair, unusual for Callum whose text messages, I was coming to learn, usually came as thick and fast as his thoughts.
I’d grown so twitchy Ada started to fret over the woodworm “infestation” again.
I’d eventually shoved my phone in the desk drawer and vowed not to think of his irritatingly handsome face for the rest of the day.
The reinstation of the Macabe brother rule book only lasted a few hours because, at the end of my shift, as I slipped out the back door to walk the fifty yards to my cottage, a husky voice whispered, “Can I walk you home?”
It was late, but I invited Callum in to watch a movie anyway.
Though he had an early start at the surgery, he said yes.
Curled beneath a blanket, Shakespeare forming a dangerous wedge between us, we’d watched a nineties action film in companionable silence, Callum’s breaths coming so steadily I thought he’d fallen asleep until he reached over and laced his fingers with mine, pulling them beneath the blanket to rest atop his thigh.
It was past midnight now, the credits rolling silently on the screen.
Callum had made no move to leave and though I knew what this thing between us was building to – what I wanted it to build to – I hesitated, taking time to layer on almost every toner, moisturiser and night cream I owned until my face looked like I’d done an hour of hot yoga.
I’d break out tomorrow and it would be my own cowardly fault.
“You’ve been in there a long time,” he said, turning my favourite skull-shaped mug in his hands.
His smile a lovely line between charming and timid.
“I … uh . I have a very thorough flossing routine.”
One brow rose at my utter stupidity.
“Is that so? Talk me through it.”
“It’s a whole thing,” I waved a hand as he stood.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“But I’m fascinated.”
“By my floss routine?”
“By everything.” He came a step closer, halting when I mirrored the action and bumped into the bathroom door.
“ You’re nervous .” He said it like an impossibility.
The way a person might say, Renesmee is an amazing choice for a baby name.
“This is new territory for me.” I admitted.
He nodded, grasping what I meant without explanation.
“Me too.”
The confession only managed to thicken the tension so I beelined for the bed, more than ready for the release we both needed.
“Bathroom’s yours.”
He returned before I’d even fully unbuttoned my shirt.
Kneeling above me, he caught my wrists, pinning them to my sides.
“ What are you doing? ”
“Taking my shirt off. Isn’t that why you came here?”
“No.” Eyes screwed tight, his head fell to my shoulder.
“ Fuck no .”
“Umm … ouch? ”
“I didn’t mean it like that and you know it.” Pulling back, his gaze roamed me hungrily.
Hands still secured in his, my shirt agape, barely covering my nipples.
“ Fuck , Juniper.” He released me, rebuttoning it with clumsy fingers.
“I came here to tell you we should take things slow … but I didn’t know you’d look like this .”
“I’m wearing pyjamas.”
“Exactly.” A muscle in his jaw jumped.
“I’ve never seen you this way. It’s doing all sorts of things for my domestic fantasies.”
Domestic fantasies?
I laughed, “Do I even want to know?”
Falling back onto his heels, he scrubbed a hand over his bristled jaw.
“On the threat of you discovering how thoroughly I’m obsessed with you? Probably not.”
“Now you have to tell me … my brain’s conjuring up all sorts of Stepford-Wives -esque movie montages.” I mock shuddered.
“It’s all ‘ Have a good day at work, dear ’ and floral dresses … I look terrible in florals. Do you want me to meet you at the door at five p.m. with a plate of freshly baked mini muffins? Because that’s where I draw the line.” When he didn’t even laugh, I poked him with my bare foot.
He caught it, pulling it into his lap.
“Tell me.”
“You’re a bloody menace, woman.” He sighed.
“Lie on your side, I’ll show you.” I complied, flicking a saucy look over my shoulder when he settled behind me.
“Mind out of the gutter, harpy. Look at the wall.”
“Bossy,” I said, even as a little thrill shot through me at this side of him I didn’t glimpse often.
“For tonight, I’m in charge.” Scooching in, his front met my back, my arse curling into his lap and hello …
a very thick, very hard cock pressed back.
I wriggled against it, unable to stem the instinct.
Callum only curled his arm around my waist, clutching me to him until our chests rose and fell together.
“ This ,” he whispered into my hair, voice so damn rough.
“This is my favourite fantasy – where I just hold you.”
“Nothing else?” My tone called bullshit.
“ Nothing else .”
“Why?” I practically exhaled the word, his meaning entirely lost on me.
Men never wanted to go slow with me.
Usually they hit fast forward to the ending.
“Because when something matters, you take your time with it.”
His meaning scorched through my veins: You matter, Juniper .
“So we’re not having sex?”
His soft kiss to the back of my neck made my eyes burn.
“Not yet, sweetheart.”
“When?”
I expected him to laugh.
Instead, he kissed my pulse.
“When you trust that I’m in this.” A squeeze at my hip.
“When I’m certain you’re comfortable with the idea of us.”
Us.
We were an us .
Us hadn’t worked out well for me, not ever.
Suddenly feeling like an exposed nerve ending, I closed my eyes, brain resetting to fight or flight mode as I reached for the cold pillow.
“You shouldn’t stay the night.”
“I don’t remember setting those parameters.” Before I could argue further he flipped me onto my front, his muscled arm curling between my legs, cupping an entire cheek of arse and leveraging me half onto his chest like I was a five-pound cat and not a fully grown human.
Getting comfortable, strong arms banded around me, his nose pressing into my hair and breathing deep.
He’s snuggling me . Deep down, in a dusty little part of my heart I’d locked away, was a woman who craved being cherished and somehow he’d figured that out.
If only I could turn my brain off.
“Are you taking things slow because of Alistair?”
He cupped the back of my neck, thumb rubbing in a slow circle.
“No.” Another circle.
“I hate keeping secrets, so I’d prefer to tell him. But you’re in charge here. We tell him when you’re ready.”
“Why am I in charge? You should get a say, too.”
“Because I’m already there, Juniper. I’m sorry if that freaks you out, but, hell – one word from you and I’ll announce it with a bell on the high street like the fucking town crier.”
“A bell?” Smiling into his T-shirt, I snuggled in a little bit more.
“ Yes , a bell,” he snarled, the un-Callum-like sound reverberating in his chest as he released me only long enough to turn off the lamp.
“Now go to sleep before my self-control completely shreds to pieces.”
“Yes, sir.” He slapped my arse, so I pinched his nipple, making him grunt.
“Callum?”
“Aye?” His hand rubbed up and down my back.
“I like you.” I held my breath while his body pulled taut then softened beneath mine.
“I like you too, sweetheart.”