6. Caleb
Chapter six
My stomach is in knots as I feel the plane groaning to life beneath me, coasting along the tarmac, getting ready for takeoff.
I’m not a nervous flyer, but I spent the night with the most dangerously alluring woman I’ve ever met.
For the first time ever, I didn’t want to leave a woman’s bed.
Fuck. I wanted to wrap her in my arms and hold her hostage.
I don’t like this feeling. It’s like I’ve forgotten to do something, and I’m quite sure it’s entirely to do with Lex. The way she was soft and sweet, my mind wanted to do so many things to her. See how I could make her light up, but also be soft with her. An utterly confusing state of mind.
When we were still at The Wayside, I noticed the tail of a mermaid tattoo peeking out from the hem of her leather skirt, and it was then I realised what she was.
A siren. She was made to disarm unsuspecting men like me.
Looking timid and sexy all at once. And that bright red hair.
I wrapped a lock around my finger, and then just wanted to wrap it around my fist while I pounded into her from behind.
When we finally made it back to her house, I got distracted by every other little thing about her. The touch of her hands on my back. The multiple silver rings stacked on her fingers. The trident tattoo on her shoulder. Every detail I wanted to slow down and appreciate .
I’ve never found myself in a situation where my mind is completely consumed with a woman, and I’m desperately trying to command reason for my wayward thoughts and unfamiliar emotions, but my sister hasn’t stopped talking since we got to the airport.
She’s not a morning person. I expected when Gage picked her up this morning that she’d be half dead to the world, insisting no one speak to her and just walk her through the terminal with her eyes shut the whole time so that she could just make it to her seat and go straight back to sleep.
Turns out she was already two coffees deep when Gage picked her up, and I saw her inhale another espresso while we were waiting in the passenger lounge.
“Have you booked us into meetings the whole time we’re in Royal Harbour, or will I have time to shop?
I haven’t been in so long, and there’s this great boutique shopping mall I’d love to get to before we leave.
” My eyes close, and I take steadying breaths as Beth continues, now shouting over the aisle.
“Hey, Izzy! Shopping trip after the meeting today?” I don’t hear a response from Isabelle, so I assume she must nod, since my sister does a flurry of little claps.
“How long will the meeting go for, do you think? Will I have time to have a decent meal beforehand? What time are we meant to land again?”
“Jesus, Beth!” My shout is rough and raw. My baby sister’s green eyes go wide with surprise before they narrow with menace.
“Excuse me. It wasn’t my idea to fly before the sun, so how about you just redirect that anger elsewhere.” She folds her arms over her chest, daring me to challenge her further.
I open my mouth in retort, but my brother’s choked laugh over the aisle makes me pause and glare over at him.
His huge frame is wedged in his seat, where he sits opposite Isabelle.
His long legs stretch in front of him, with Isabelle’s tiny frame tucked into her seat, avoiding any contact.
Her blonde ringlets are piled on top of her head and secured with a burnt orange scarf, and her pink stone necklace dangles around her neck as always.
Once we reach cruising altitude, Gage will go catch up on sleep in the bed cabin, and hopefully, my sister will move over to Isabelle’s side.
“I have no problem with the early morning,” I say, bringing my attention back to my tyrant of a sister.
“Pretty sure he was just up too late,” Gage throws out, causing Beth’s face to scrunch in disgust.
“Eww.”
“You’re not usually so highly strung after your late nights, OG,” Isabelle says, and Beth releases an unladylike snort.
“OG?” she questions.
“Yeah, old and grey.” Isabelle pins her lips together, hiding that little chuckle she does every time I put on my glasses. Little shit thinks she’s so clever.
“I’m only thirty-four,” I grump.
“Yes, I know. You remind me every time I laugh when you put your reading glasses on.” Isabelle and Beth burst into laughter as I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. When I unlock it, I see notifications from the sibling group chat.
BETH:
Isabelle calls Caleb ‘OG’ and I vote we all use this new moniker
I scowl at my sister. What the fuck. I didn’t even see her take out her phone.
MASON:
Who’s Isabelle? Is she hot? Should I meet her?
MASON:
Btdubs, gangsters a bit of a stretch for the old boy .
Mason is our youngest brother, but he’s two years older than Beth, so they’re like two peas in a pod.
They also work together at their building company, Two Hearts Homes, which is why Beth is accompanying us on this trip.
As our interior designer, she'll show the High Rollers how we envision Gage’s whiskey lounge will fit seamlessly with the high-end brand they have cultivated through their casinos.
Mason, however, works on the tools. He likes to use his hands.
GAGE:
No.
MASON:
No, she’s not hot?
GAGE:
Drop. It.
BETH:
I think Henry may have already moved in, Mase. And, it’s OG as in Old and Grey laughing-tears-emoji
MASON:
So, she’s smart and hot? …I’ve updated my phone, this mastery needs to be put in writing.
A deep rumble comes from across the plane—Gage’s displeasure at Beth using his real name. He’s been going by his middle name since he was eleven, but it amuses Beth to no end to tease him with it every now and then.
GAGE:
I have not. And don’t call me that.
MASON:
So she’s available then?
GAGE:
NO.
The flight attendant comes over, telling us the pilot is ready to take off, and ensures we all have our seatbelts fastened. I close my eyes and pull in steadying breaths as the plane starts to roll forward.
“Are you alright, Cale?” Beth whispers.
Am I alright? I’ve never experienced a pull to a woman like I did with Lex. It’s unnerving. I couldn’t get enough. Couldn’t get close enough, deep enough. My soul ached to consume her, and I certainly didn’t have anywhere close to enough time to latch on to that feeling.
I don’t know what drove me to finish on her stomach.
I’ve never done that before, but as her pussy contracted around me, claimed me, I felt a desperate need to claim her right back.
To ruin and possess her. It was a satisfying release in more ways than one, but then I saw the evidence.
My cum painted on her skin, and my brain short circuited, chanting mine, mine, mine.
I went about my usual way of fleeing without much thought, but with every measured step out of her room, her body called to me.
She was a siren luring me to a certain death, only to be found between her legs.
It wasn’t just her body, though. The sizzle of fate that danced on my skin every time she touched me.
Whether it was soft, hard, on purpose, or without meaning.
All of it. It all felt like it was destined to be left upon my skin.
Branded on my existence. And I was meant to disarm and deserve her right back.
I don’t think I’m alright, and now I’m flying to the other side of the fucking country for the weekend and can’t do anything about it.
“I’m fine.”
I am nowhere near fine.