50. Are you scared?
CHAPTER 50
Are you scared?
I did great. Not good, great. Everyone who spotted me after the boys’ performance mentioned that. Appreciation builds in my chest. I rock on my heels, my body swaying in a happy dance. The happiness dwindles when my eyes locate the phone on the bed. Dad isn’t picking up.
Mace grabs the edge of his crib, his face registering the excitement missing on mine. He has the headphones Calum had him wear throughout their performance. I squat in front of his crib. I should put him to sleep, but the nerves coursing through my body make it impossible to act or think straight. Going on that stage unleashed something inside me, and I haven’t figured out how to quiet it. If Calum were here, I would pass some of that energy to him through sex.
“Grandpapa Mace isn’t picking up,” I say. My knees hit the rug, and my arms bracket the crib. Mace yawns, and his eyes droop. I’m still riding on the thrill of my performance. It’s late. Dad should be asleep, but I was hoping to talk to him tonight. Mace sits. “You feel sleepy?”
Someone walks in before Mace answers. Calum. His feet come into view. He leans in for a kiss on my cheek. When I try to palm his face for a proper kiss, he dodges my hands. I stand upright, stunned. A thick air of dominance surrounds him as he hoists Mace out of the crib.
“Mace is spending the night with Mum.”
We didn’t discuss that, but the tension floating around him takes away the strength of an argument. His fingertips brush my cheek, leaving tingles in their wake. My body lights up.
“Okay,” I whisper.
His gaze rolls over me, setting me ablaze from inside. “And you’re spending the night with me.”
“Okay.”
The door shuts behind them. Anxiety bubbles in my belly, followed closely by excitement. I haven’t seen Calum this way before. But this is my first time with him on a tour. Too distracted to keep count of the seconds while he’s gone, I grab my phone and sit on the bed.
Working through images and videos of Mace, I resume the video I was making. Every moment of Mace’s life without Calum will be strung into the video. We didn’t take so many pictures after his birth because I hated cameras, but thankfully, Amelia took some—a lot.
Calum enters the room quietly. I look up with a pout. His hands land on each side of my hips, and he claims my lips in a demanding kiss. The questions in my head scatter as he takes more from me. I give as much as I can, my back meeting the bed as the kiss intensifies. He spreads my legs, settling between them as his bulge sits heavy on my belly. The beast sitting tamely inside me roars to life. I reach for his waistband, and he grabs my hands above my head.
“Cal,” I beg.
My nipples tighten into pebbles. Calum closes his mouth over the material of my top, pulling a sensitive tit into his mouth.
“God,” Calum groans as he comes back up to claim my lips in a chaste kiss. “My darling, I’ve been wanting to do this since we finished our performance. But the boys wanted to talk.”
He releases my wrists to intertwine our fingers. My back arches, and he responds by rubbing his dick over my front. Wet heat pools between my legs. I try to shut them, but he doesn’t let me. Fingertips dancing over my thigh, his hand inches higher until it slides into my night shorts. A finger rams into me first, and another joins in before I process the entrance of the first.
“Cal,” I mutter.
A gentle rub on my clit and a pinch on the same spot has my toes curling. My eyes roll far back as he takes turns on my nipples while spearing my cunt with his rough fingers. I breathe heavily as he bends my body to his will. He moves in and out of me, smearing my wetness over my pussy lips, then raising his damp fingers to my mouth. I suck them before he asks.
Cursing, he covers my lips with his, and his fingers return to my throbbing pussy. My hands race across his skin. My mind is in too much of a haze to admire every inch of his defined frame. I tug on his waistband, and he pulls away briefly to drag it down his ankles. I try to do the same with my shorts, but he shakes his head. Hooking two fingers under the band of my shorts, he brings them down my knees, leaving them at my ankles to restrict my movements.
Calum circles back to plant a kiss on my toes. He has never done that, so it surprises me. The pressure in my belly explodes. I gush over his face and the bed, my lips shaped into a perfect O before rambling into a string of apologies. Big grin plastered on his lips, he casts the shorts on the floor after wiping his face. Crawling back up, he folds my legs at the knees and sighs. He licks me up from top to bottom, soaking up the evidence of my squirt with his tongue.
Eyes locked on mine, Calum strokes his dick with one hand. My arousal drips down my inner thighs. We both thrum with feverish excitement, intensified by the time on stage. I need him as much as he needs me. The pale pink head of his cock drips with precum. I jerk forward. But he lines his body over mine, one hand planted on the side of my head as he pushes in only the crown. I stiffen. My body welcomes the intrusion while also waiting for the fullness.
“Please,” I tell him.
My legs clamp under his firm arse, urging him to bless me completely. Our bodies mould as he fills me up in one motion and pumps in slowly so we can savour each thrust. My cries die in the back of my throat, and my head tips back. Shivers rack my frame. Moans tumble out of my shaky lips. Sweat drops from his body to mine. I don’t mind. I don’t care. We are one.
His thrusts turn frantic as he nears his peak. I try to match his pace, but the shimmer of an orgasm draws upon me, stealing my strength. I lie still as he coats my walls with his cum, my breath going ragged as my climax hits hard. He rolls onto the bed, taking me alongside him. I breathe through my mouth, my body thoroughly spent, and my senses melting into a puddle.
His lips meet my sweaty forehead. “Sorry,” he says. I look at him with stars in my eyes, and he grins down at me. He swats the stray hairs sticking to my temple. We are both sweating. “I needed an outlet. There’s so much energy inside me after a performance. I needed to let go.”
And that would have been impossible with Mace in the room. I shift my weight to one side, rolling the hem of his shirt up to his chest until he takes the hint to pull it off. His tiny nipples peak under my stare. I lick around them before taking them into my mouth. He whimpers. His hands seek my boobs, rolling a clothed nipple between his fingers. As the sensations build in my chest and belly, I grab his hands to halt his movements. His brows furrow, but he doesn’t resume the motions. I trace the line between his abs, something I wanted to do earlier.
Kissing his jaw, I graze the rough surface where spiky strands of hair grow.
“What would you have done if I wasn’t here?”
Calum nestles his head on his arm that’s curled on the pillow and slides his hand into my top to play directly with my nipples. “I’ll jerk off picturing your face or go cool off somewhere. Maybe hit the drums.” He laughs at that part. I don’t know why I grin. He lowers his head to pull my lip between his, and my body spasms. “Oh, and I’m shit at drumming, by the way.”
Our laughter lifts to the air. His face grows serious, and I go quiet. He glances at me with a million stars in his eyes. “Thank you for coming with us, Superstar. You’re my everything.”
“You’re my everything, too,” I reply.
A kiss on my lips stops me from voicing the rest of the words in my head, mostly the doubts. After a warm bath, we snuggle under the bed, naked and content to be in each other’s arms.
Calum’s fingers move in and out of my scalp lazily, nearly seducing me to sleep. With the darkness all around us, I rely heavily on my other senses. “Are you scared?” he whispers.
Our time together already aligned me with Calum’s feelings. He’s talking about another type of fear, the fear stopping me from doing things the way he wants. Things like labelling us.
I turn the question back on him. “Are you?”
He nods against my shoulder. It’s tempting to turn in his arms and palm his face, but I take what we have. The hard feel of his chest against my back and his protective arm over my waist.
“I’m scared that you’ll never love me as much as you did before,” he confesses. His breath fans my neck, and his lips replace the warmth of his breath. “Before the whole accident.”
“It’s different now. We don’t have to hide anymore. I love you more than I did before,” I say to the air. Bringing his hand over the soft pooch of my belly, I place mine over his. “You gave me Mace. I couldn’t love you any more than I already do. I love-love you, Mr Dissick.”
Calum chuckles. “Why are you scared?”
“I’m scared that you’ll break my heart again.” It’s a fear that’s stronger on some days. Today, it’s barely there. He tenses, and I fix the statement by adding, “Even if not intentionally, Cal.”
My body yearns for the feel of his skin on mine as soon as he’s gone. Light from the corner lamp floods my side of the bed, and a firm touch on my cheek brings my gaze to his tender blues. His face hovers over me, the sincerity in his eyes outshining the lamp.
“I’ll spend the rest of my life proving you wrong. But you have to give me a chance.”
Doubts rush out of my lips as words. “I really cannot handle any form of heartbreak this time, Cal. If you break my heart, I’ll probably die.” His lips pull into a smile that never forms. “I’m serious, baby. People can die of a heartbreak, and I’ll die of one if you break my heart again.”
“I’ll probably die before I break your heart. Not probably. I’ll die first before I break your heart.” His lips touch my forehead, and then his tongue swipes the tears wetting my cheeks. I’m giving him so much power over me. I want to. “You own me, Cathie. Your happiness is my duty. I cannot exist in a world where you belong to another man or are unhappy. Another chance?”
Lacing our pinky finger, I brush my lips against his to seal his promise. “If you break my heart, Amelia’s ghost will haunt you. Mum’s too. They will chase you around, Cal, even when you perform.”
He lifts me so I’m lying on top of him. I rest my chin on his chest, my gaze latching onto his.
“I’m counting on it,” he answers.
Silence rolls on for a while. I lean forward as I whisper, “I won’t break your heart, Cal.”
“I know,” he answers solemnly.
In his arms, I drift to sleep, waking up alone. Calum is missing. Mace too. I smile at his empty crib. A knot twists in my belly as the memory of our late-night and early-morning activities floods my mind. I’m alone in the room, but my cheeks burn from shyness. If Calum is not here, he must have gone to get Mace. Father and son are most likely together, bonding.
There’s no note from him. I grab my phone from the nightstand to call him. There are missed calls from Dad. After a long call with Dad, Jason, Taylor, and Rose, I head into the bathroom.
The boys are performing today, but I’m not. As exciting as yesterday was, I need a break. Mace and I will watch from the VIP section instead of backstage. I wear one of Calum’s oversized shirts over my night shorts. He can hardly keep his hands to himself, and he proved that last night with the number of times he devoured me with his tongue, fingers, and dick.
I spare a look at myself in the mirror and run a brush through my hair. It might never grow as long as it was. I was one of the few lucky ones who didn’t lose their hair after childbirth. If I could cut it again so Amelia never once felt alone in her struggle, I’d do it without a thought. Almost out of the room, I retrace my steps to get my phone. Is Calum with his friends or mum? I’m done with the video from yesterday. I step out of the room, and my heart pounds.
The living room is crowded. The boys are here with Mace, helping with his colouring. I stop behind a couch. No one notices me. I take advantage of that by clicking some shots. The snap of the camera grabs their attention. Lucas makes the peace sign. Sam smiles. Mace colours his nose red, and Calum blows me a kiss. I take a few more shots and join the men. Calum doesn’t let me sit on the floor. He draws me up to his lap and kisses my neck. Lucas laughs. He’s that cute friend who will always embarrass you, and you can’t hate him any less for it.
“So…” Lucas starts.
I escape Calum to join Mace. He shoots to his feet, rubs his stained nose against mine, and returns to his drawing. He’s colouring an apple, so he has a red crayon. I offer him a black one from the pack. He looks me up and down and scoffs. Well, someone has an attitude.
“Cathie?” Lucas calls. He’s not the only one staring in my direction. Whatever they discussed while I slept can’t be kid-friendly or appropriate. A lump moves to my throat. I sit, my back propped against the couch. I’m the only lady here, but I feel safe. “Are you two dating or what?”
My cheeks flush. “What did Cal say?”
“Nothing,” Lucas replies. “Just kept smiling.”
The human in question winks at me. I look away right as a blush spreads over my cheeks.
“Well…” I drag out the word, using my finger to draw circles on the rug. I could say we are dating, but dating feels inappropriate. Too small. “We are whatever Calum says we are.”
Lucas grunts. Sam laughs.
“Oh, come on, Cathie. Not you too,” Lucas cries out. I’m with my man and his decision. He tries to glare me into admitting a right answer, but I smile harder. Giving up, he picks up our son. “Your parents are rebelling, Macey. We need to reunite and seize power from them.”
Mace scrunches his nose, shaking his head as his uncle sets him down. “No. No. No.”
The room erupts in laughter. A smile flies to Lucas’ lips. He pretends to be upset at Mace, but that doesn’t last. I open my arms for my son and he hurries into my embrace. Ruffling his hair, I place a kiss on his temple. Calum’s phone rings. He excuses himself to take the call.
Lucas drags his knees up to his chest. Sam gives Mace a crayon, pretending not to be interested in whatever Lucas will say. I don’t give either of them a chance. I shoot to my feet.
Pointing to the door, I say, “I think I left my phone in the room.”
“Your phone is in your hand,” Lucas says.
But I’m already gone. I shut the door after me, laughing. Their conversation can get filthy, and I don’t want to be in the middle of it. I can only trust they keep Mace out of those talks. While Calum is answering his call, I ransack the drawer for the bubble gum I bought. I was so nervous I forgot to take some yesterday and also share with him, but I can fix that today.
The sound of Calum’s voice encourages me to step out of the room. To my shock, he’s not there. Lucas points a finger at me, stopping me before I make another escape. Mace is focused on his drawing.
“You are avoiding us, Cathie. We are family now, you know that, right?”
“That means he will always be in your business,” Sam calls out from behind.
“Shut up, Sammy. You are also curious,” Lucas bites back. I prepare for the verbal match between the two. It happens more than anyone thinks possible. “I’m not always in your business. Only a few times. And you have nothing interesting going on in your boring life.”
Sam rolls his eyes. “My life is—”
The door opens, cutting him short. Thank God. Calum rejoins us. He kisses me first, then presses one to Mace’s temple. The boys excuse themselves, and I let out an audible sigh of relief. Calum hoists Mace over his shoulders, his new favourite way of carrying his son.
“Were they arguing again? I ordered breakfast,” Calum says. He leads the way to the dining room, where the table has been set for two. Putting Mace down so he can pull out a chair for me, he massages my shoulders when I sit. “Mace already ate. I was waiting for my baby girl.”
Tilting my head back, I smile at him, and he kisses me. He sits beside me and dishes the food. I feed bits of my breakfast to Mace. He’s eating solids now. He runs off to colour a bit and returns whenever he wants to accept a bite of my bread.
“The call was from Scott,” Calum says. I finish up the bacon and scoop a spoon of the baked beans into my mouth. Breakfast is a full English affair. He points his fork towards me. “What do you think about being part of a label, superstar?”
“Being part of your band?”
Calum smiles. “No.” My body sags against the chair. He laughs harder. They have great voices, but I’m better off as a single entity or a duo. “You will be under the same label as all of us. Basically, you’ll have Scott manage you. You’ll be under a contract for a short while.”
“I’ll produce songs under the label?” I ask. Calum nods. I finish my eggs and he empties his onto my plate. If I weren’t so hungry, I may have complained, but I wolf it down. “But I could do that at the studio even without a label, right? What’s the difference with the label?”
“Credibility,” he answers. “And the next time you want to record, you don’t have to go to a random studio. The label will handle that, it’s part of the contract. We have a studio in New York. We have people that will work on making the song better than it already is.”
“Do you want me to be a part of it?” I ask.
Calum grasps my jaw, bringing my gaze to his blues. His knuckle slides under my lips, and a shiver shoots to my chest. “I want you to do what makes you happy, Superstar. I’m here for that. Scott will try to talk to you about it later. But I wanted you to be prepared. I’m where I am today because of them. Labels are important but you can still succeed as an independent artist. As long as you don’t hide your gift from the world, I’m fine with your decision.”
His lips meet mine for a nanosecond, and I whisper, “I’ll think about it.”
Mace struts back to me for another bite, but the food is finished. I heave him to my lap. He stares at the empty plate and bursts into tears. Standing to soothe him, I slide my phone to Calum so he can watch all the earliest memories of his son while he was away. He looks to me for an explanation, but I hurry away from him while muttering, “Just watch it. Bye.”
Back to the room with Mace, I hand him a packet of biscuits from the drawer. He falls asleep minutes after eating, his happy snores filling the air as I place him into his crib. A knock sounds on the door before it opens. Calum stands at the doorway, his eyes filled with tears.
“Have I told you I love you today?” he asks.
I tap a finger to my lips. “I don’t remember.”
Laughing, he lifts me up, and my legs circle his waist. “I love you today. I love you tomorrow. I love you forever, Mrs Dissick.”