19. Callum
Callum
“I get a crazy impulse when you smile at me. Like I want to step in front of a bus. In a good way.” — A Softer World
T he door behind Sophie closes as she steps out to deal with our unexpected guest, and I fall back to the bed with a sigh. My stoic, unrattled attitude I was displaying for her sake, flying right out the window.
“Fuck,” I hiss, running the back of my hand across my mouth, but stop midway, inhaling it instead.
“ Fuck ,” I hiss again. It’s not enough that the feel of her soft pliable tits and that razor-sharp dainty nipple are still imprinted on my hand. It also carries her scent.
Mint. Cool, refreshing mint. And something else. Something new that makes my already hard cock harden even more at a mere thought of it.
“Fuck!” I knew sleeping in the same bed was a bad idea.
I knew it even before I saw her standing at the door in that white T-shirt, barely covering her ass and doing nothing to hide the color or shape of her nipples from me.
But when I saw that walking temptation, my resolve to sleep on the couch hardened and I stood strong. Until I didn’t.
Damn it.
I could tell myself it was because of her threat of Grace showing up—which turned out to be true—but that’d be a lie. Or rather, not the only truth because I wanted to be in this bed. I wanted to be next to her.
For some inexplicable reason, I needed to be next to her. So, I caved in and resolved on sleeping as far away from her as I could.
Once again…that idea flopped.
Big time, if the position we woke up in was any indication. I have no idea how we got there. None, but…but I’ve never slept better.
Before I allow my thoughts to wander any more, I quickly go to the bathroom and take the fastest shower of my life, intentionally ignoring Sophie’s scent all over this tiled room, her tiny panties hanging off the door handle, or the way my cock is leaking and begging for a release.
Begging to feel that soft material of her lacy panties slide against him, feel the wetness seeping through them, tease her, drive her mad until I could slip inside…
No, I fucking refuse to jerk off to my fake wife. Not gonna happen.
I don’t even like her.
That was the whole fucking point. I squeeze the base of my cock harshly to cut off all this insanity.
I just finish toweling myself off when I hear the girls going on about something but it’s not loud enough for me to understand until Grace shrieks, “Oh really? I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that because you’re clearly not yourself.
Listen, I’ve looked it up, we can still get an annulment done today.
So get your pants on, we need to head out.
The drive to Santa Cruz at this hour is going to be brutal as it is. ”
Annulment. That word gets me moving, snatching my pants and shirt off the floor as I tug them on quickly. Freaking relentless Grace.
“And why would we drive to Santa Cruz?” Sophie asks, sounding exasperated, the sound piercing through me. Damn it, I got her into this mess. It’s my fault she has to lie to her friend right now and fight off her attacks.
I swing the door open.
“To get that annulment.” Grace snaps her fingers as I walk into the living room. “Keep up, Soph.”
“Grace, why aren’t you home annoying my best friend?” Both of them look my way as I stride over to Sophie who’s standing in the kitchen.
“Because he’s on shift right now.” Grace narrows her eyes on me as I slide up next to Sophie, pulling out a mug for my own coffee as well.
“Besides, you two are the talk of the town, and everyone relies on me to provide some clarity on this insanity. And where are you going?” She asks in that quick, snappy tone.
“To work.”
“Oh? So, no honeymoon? No dream vacation to Greece for you, Sophie?” Grace taunts with a smug look on her face. “And where is the dress you always wanted? Your mother’s, right? Oh, and for your brother to walk you down the aisle? If I recall you wanted a small version of a big, fat, Greek wedding.”
For just a fraction, Sophie stills next to me. It’s so fast and fleeting you’d miss it if you weren’t watching her like I am. Like I’ve been.
Everything Grace just said was the truth. Sophie wants all of that. And she’ll have it. One day, she’ll have her dream wedding, in her dream dress, with her brother at her side and a dreamy honeymoon afterward.
She’ll have it all. I know it.
And I shouldn’t care in the slightest. She can have whatever she wants after we’re done here.
I don’t care. I don’t .
Yet…that burning sensation inside my chest I’ve felt before, ignites once more and intensifies with every new image of her with someone else.
Someone who can give it to her.
But that someone isn’t me and for some inexplicable reason, it bothers me.
Everything fucking bothers me. And Grace’s snide remarks bother me.
I’m about to interfere when Sophie shoots me a quick look, telling me to stay out of it.
“Dreams change, Gracie. You out of all people should know it.” She turns toward the counter, seemingly unperturbed as she makes her coffee.
“Sophie, come on, can you please stop with this already? We all know this isn’t real. Did you want to play a prank on us? It’s a damn good one, I’ll give you that, but now I want in on this action. So cut this crap, please.”
“It’s not a prank, Grace.”
“Uh-huh. Where is your ring then?” Sophie’s eyes flicker to her naked finger for a second before she shrugs.
“Rings are overrated.”
“Are they now? Does Vassar know about this? Kira? Your nieces and nephew? And why aren’t you looking at me, Sophie?”
Sophie sucks in a shaky breath, Grace’s each word hitting her exactly where she meant to land that punch. Fury like I’ve never known before envelops me. Okay, that’s it, there’s no way in fuck I’m staying out of it, sorry, little menace.
Without thinking, I loop my arm around Sophie’s waist and drag her small, pliable body into my side. Feeling desperate need to protect her from everything and everybody.
“Back. The. Fuck. Away. From my wife. I don’t care if you are her left kidney, I won’t have anyone talk to her like that,” I growl, and if I could I’d bite Grace too.
I may not be the guy to give her the dream wedding or the one to take her to Greece for a honeymoon, but I’ll be damned if I let anyone treat her like this. For the next year, Sophie is mine. And I’ll die protecting what’s mine this time around.
Grace gasps.
“And it’s Lovinski,” I grind out.
“Wh-what?” she stutters, her eyes two round saucers as she watches me with bewilderment.
“Earlier, you called her Sophia Levidis. It’s Lovinski now.”
Grace opens and closes her mouth a few times before she settles her shocked gaze on Sophie. “Are you seriously trying to tell me that this is the real deal?”
“Um, yes?” Sophie says, unsure, and I tighten my hold on her waist.
“You mean you really, really got married yesterday? It wasn’t a drunken mistake or a prank?
You weren’t high or coerced?” She tilts her head closer to Sophie and whispers as if I can’t still hear her.
“You know you can tell me if you were. I know that grumpy asshole can be scary but trust me, I’m scarier. ”
I roll my eyes and Sophie lets out a girly laugh. “No, none of that.” She raises her gaze to mine. “I wanted this.”
I wanted this …the words ring in my chest, adding fuel to the fire that was already burning in there.
I’m so lost in Sophie’s brown eyes, trying to search each gold speckle in there for what she meant by that. If she actually wanted it—wanted me when she shouldn’t—or she’s that good at pretending?
I’m still lost in thought when Grace shrieks, “You got married!!!”
“I did, Gracie.” Sophie pulls her gaze away from me.
Grace blinks a few times before her shoulders slump, that shark demeanor gone as she cries out, “I’m a horrible, horrible, despicable friend! I didn’t even know you liked him! How could I miss it? And I didn’t even get to throw you a bachelorette party!”
“It’s okay, Gracie. I don’t need one.” Sophie gives her a small smile.
“Of course, you do! Everyone needs a bachelorette party. You only get one in your lifetime.”
“Um, you got two? ”
“I don’t count.” She waves me off.
“What’s a bachelorette party?” Dear Lord, what else did I steal from Sophie? What other experience I robbed her of with my selfish need to get the town off my ass?
“‘What’s a bachelorette party,’ he asks,” Grace mimics my voice while rolling her eyes. “Seriously, Sophie, who did you marry?”
My eyes darken, I’m this close to murdering my best friend’s wife, I swear.
Ignoring me, she continues. “It’s a party for the bride-to-be where all her girlfriends come to celebrate her and gift her a million sexy lingerie pieces. And you”—Gracie points at me dramatically—“ruined the whole experience for my bestie.”
Fucking hell…all these dramatics over some lingerie? My exasperation must be written all over my face because Sophie let's out a small giggle beside me.
“Hey, I still want some sexy lingerie! Especially from your store!”
Grace narrows her eyes. “Maybe that’ll be my punishment for you. No sexy lingerie from my store for getting married without me.”
“Ah,” Sophie gasps. “You wouldn’t do that to me.”
“Maybe I would, maybe I wouldn’t.”
Shit…is this whole lingerie stuff that big a deal? Sophie didn’t even react this fiercely to not wearing the dress she wanted.
“Let’s have one tonight! It’ll be like an after-party,” she tells her friend.
Grace forgets to be mad for a second, getting all excited before her shoulders slump.
“What?”
“You’re already busy tonight.”
“I am?” Sophie frowns.
“You’re going to your new in-laws for dinner.”
“I am?” Sophie yelps at the same time as I ask, “She is?”
“Uh-huh. Both of you are.” Grace’s finger ping-pongs between myself and Sophie and she’s not even attempting to hide her evil grin. “Lumos, I wish I could be there for that show, but it’s okay, Julie promised to record it for us. ”
“Jesus Christ.” I sigh. “I’m sorry for that shit-show in advance,” I tell her, and Sophie twists in my arms so she’s facing me, with that soft smile that does things to me grazing her beautiful lips.
“It’ll be all right. I’m looking forward to meeting your parents.”
“You say that now.” I sigh again.
“Come on, they can’t be worse than me.” She bats her eyelashes innocently while fully aware of what a little menace she is.
I feel the corners of my mouth tug up. “No one compares to my little menace.”
Sophie’s olive skin complexation does it's best to hide the small blush coloring her cheeks, but I spot it, watching as she slowly sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, and the coil that was building since I woke up snaps inside me.
My thumb is on that bruised lip instantly, pulling it free from its confinement and I run the pad of it across the fading teeth mark.
So soft, so perfectly pink. The need to feel it pressed against my own is almost overwhelming in that moment. It’s so strong I forget where I am, who’s around us or the fact that I haven’t kissed anyone in many, many years.
Anyone but my wife yesterday.
And I want it now.
I’ve wanted it since the moment we woke up, her in my arms. I want her.
My thumb is still on Sophie’s lip, and I feel her breath quicken, the warmth coating my skin and…
My phone rings on the counter, snapping me out of the haze halfway to her lips. My eyes snap to hers.
Damn it, I was about to kiss her. Quickly, I pull away, taking my phone out to see it’s the station calling me.
“Shit. I need to get going.” And thank fuck…what is it about this girl that makes me lose all sane thought?
Stuffing my phone back into my pocket, I grab my keys and head to the door when Sophie stops me.
“Hey, husband?” She wraps her arms around me as a loving wife would, but all I can think about is her white oversized T-shirt riding up high enough to expose that sweet ass I slept pressed against with my aching cock the whole night.
“Yeah?” I swallow hard.
If I don’t leave now, I’ll do something stupid.
Yeah, more stupid than getting fake married. Because there’s nothing fake about the burn inside me. Nothing fake about the need I feel and the very hard erection in my pants.
“You still remember our deal?” she asks through a sweet smile, quiet enough for only me to hear her, even though I know Grace is working very hard to be in the know as well right now.
“What deal?” I frown.
“The text messages,” she grits out, popping her eyes out and it takes me a second to mull that over, trying to remember what she meant by that.
A second later, recognition sets in, and I feel my eyes grow wide. “Wait, you were serious about that?”
“As a heart attack.” Sophie pats my cheek lovingly.
Fucking hell…she wants those dirty text messages.
“It’s the least you can do,” she whispers softly, and I can’t fight her on that one. “It doesn’t have to be personal, Shrek. I know you don’t feel like that toward me, so you can even look them up on Google. Just make sure you find a good one.”
My blood simmers, my cock threatening to rip through the zipper to show her exactly how he feels about her and her dirty text messages.
I step close to her. So close there’s no mistaking what she does to my body, and I know she can feel it.
Bending down, I bring my lips to her ear and whisper, “As if I’d ever need any inspiration for what I could do to you.”
Sophie gasps and I walk out the door. That little…I’ll show her inspiration. If only she had any idea what I’d do to my fake wife if I stayed another second longer in that apartment.
Audience be damned.
Quickly, I fish my phone out of the pocket and nearly loose it when I see what she named herself in my contacts list.
Fiona. Fiona. My wife thinks she’s fucking hilarious.
God…how I wish I could take a hand to that sassy ass.