10. Caleb
Caleb
I stand at the kitchen counter, mechanically stirring pancake batter when Poppy bursts through the door, her phone clutched to her chest.
“Dad! Dad! I got in!” Her squeal pierces the morning quiet. “Juilliard! They want me!”
My heart simultaneously soars and sinks. “That’s amazing, sweetheart.” I force brightness into my voice, setting down the bowl to catch her as she launches herself at me.
“Can you believe it? New York, Dad!” She’s practically vibrating with excitement against my chest.
I kiss the top of her head, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo.
My heart drops into my stomach.
Soon she’ll be gone, and my house will be empty. Just like when her mother died. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you, Dad. This is my dream.”
“I know, sweetheart. Have you told Amara yet?” I ask, returning to the pancakes to hide the tears threatening to spill.
“No, I just read the email.” Poppy hops onto the counter, swinging her legs. “We should go see her. Take her flowers or something. After yesterday she must be scared.”
My chest tightens at the mere thought of Amara. Every time I think we’re getting somewhere, she pulls away. “That’s thoughtful. We can stop at Rosita’s on the way.”
At the florist, Poppy picks out a bright bouquet of sunflowers and daisies. “These’ll cheer her up.”
When we arrive at Dom’s, Amara answers the door wearing an oversized sweater despite the heat. Dark circles ring her eyes.
“I got into Juilliard,” Poppy says, but with a little less gusto than earlier.
“Congratulations!” Amara hugs Poppy, but I notice how she winces at the contact. “I should be buying you flowers.”
“I wanted to make you smile,” Poppy says. “And Dad thought you’d like these.”
Her eyes connect with mine.
“The flowers are gorgeous.” But her smile doesn’t reach those eyes as she takes them from me. Our fingers brush and she flinches.
Something’s wrong. I want to pull her aside, ask what happened, but she won’t meet my gaze again.
“I’ll put these in water.” She disappears into the kitchen, leaving me staring after her, wondering what walls have gone up now.
“I’ll come with you,” Poppy says as Milly strides down the stairs.
“What happened last night?” I ask Milly.
“Fucking Con threatened her,” she hisses. Milly is less gentle than her younger sister. “So I kneed him in the balls.”
I laugh as Dom comes out of his office. He looks at me and gestures for me to follow him into his office. The heavy door closes behind us with a soft click. The room smells of leather and cigars, a combination that always reminds me of our golf games.
“Does Poppy know anything about what happened with Mateo at the party?” Dom settles into his chair.
“I asked, but Amara’s kept quiet about it.”
The door opens and Dom’s son, Dante, strides in, his presence filling the room like his father’s does. “Any news on Lia’s shooter?”
“My investigators are working on it,” Dom replies.
I sink deeper into my chair, feeling like an outsider. This world of violence and vengeance is galaxies away from my lecture halls and student papers.
“How is Lia?” Dom’s voice softens at the mention of his stepdaughter.
“Rafe and Cade are taking good care of her.”
Dom’s jaw tightens. “Have you heard anything about Amara and Con? He’s assaulted her twice now. Do you know the reason before I kill him myself?”
Dante’s expression darkens. “There was an incident at the warehouse a while ago. Do you remember I mentioned it was bizarre? The man killed was a supposed Irish mobster?” He leans forward. “But he had Amara’s name on him. Her birthday too.”
“Did you question him?” Dom’s knuckles whiten on his desk.
“Con killed him before we could. And it turned out he wasn’t an Irish mobster at all.” Dante’s brow furrows. “He was a detective.”
“And you never thought to tell me before today?” Dom’s voice lowers, but Dante tilts his head to one side, unaffected.
“No, why would I? Con was the one who needed to come forward. I’m no snitch.”
I keep my face carefully neutral, but my heart pounds against my ribs.
“Should I be here?” I grip the door handle, ready to escape.
Dom’s laugh cuts through the tension. “I trust you.”
“Still, I’ll let you two speak about this while I’m not here. I prefer to stay out of this stuff. I’ll check on Poppy and Amara before I leave.”
In the kitchen, I find Amara alone. I corner her by the sink. “Where’s Poppy?”
“Talking to Milly about me.” She rolls her eyes. “Everyone is creeping around me now.”
I lean forward, brushing my finger against her hand. “Meet me in the dining room. It’s private and we’re less likely to be seen.”
Her eyes lock onto mine, and she nods as I turn away.
The moment she comes into the dining room, I lock the door behind her and press her against the wall. “I can’t do this anymore. I want you in my life—properly.”
Her smile lights up her face. “Properly.”
“I can’t stop thinking about you. I was going to tell you last night, and I couldn’t sleep thinking that you came here rather than to me.”
I lean down and kiss her, tasting strawberries, sunshine, and my future.
She smiles when I press my hands against the wall and kiss her again.
“If you want me, we can leave here when Poppy starts Juilliard. We can get her settled in New York and then we can do anything you want.”
“Away from here?” she asks.
I stroke my thumb over her bottom lip as I stare into her eyes. “Anything. You tell me what you need. And I’ll make it happen.”
She smiles. “You’re not scared anymore?”
I shake my head. “Not at all.”
I press my forehead against hers, breathing in her sweet scent. “I’ve fought this for so long, tried to be the responsible one. But I can’t anymore.”
“You don’t have to fight it,” she whispers, her fingers trailing up my chest.
“God, you’re everything I want.” I cup her face, memorizing every detail. “Every night I lie awake thinking about you. Every morning I wake up wanting you more.”
Her blue eyes shine with unshed tears. “Really?”
“Really. I know I’m too old, that I should let you go. But I can’t. I won’t.” I brush my thumb across her cheek. “Run away with me. Let me take care of you, protect you.”
“You’d do that?”
“In a heartbeat.” I lean down, capturing her lips in a deep kiss that steals my breath. My hands slide down to her waist, pulling her closer. “Tell me you want me too, Amara. Please, tell me.”
“I want you, Caleb.” Her words send electricity through my veins.
I lift her up, groaning as her legs wrap around my waist. My cock hardens instantly as I press her against the wall, claiming her mouth again. She tastes like paradise and sin rolled into one.
When we finally break apart, both panting, I rest my forehead against hers. “Come to my place Saturday night. Poppy is staying at her aunt’s. Let me cook for you, make everything special.”
“I have something on earlier,” she says, fingers playing with my hair. “But I can come by around ten?”
“Perfect.” I kiss her again, softer this time, pouring all my love into it. “I’ll wait for you. We’ll have the whole night to ourselves.”
She smiles against my lips. “Promise?”
“Promise.” I seal it with another kiss, my heart soaring with possibilities.
I’m not sure how I let myself get this lost in her. Her eyes, that radiant blue, pull me in like a current. The moment we kiss, everything else fades away. It’s just us.
“You know,” she says with a playful grin, breaking the tension. “You might need a cold shower after this.”
The laugh escapes before I can stop it. “You and me both.”
I shift my weight, acutely aware of how hard I am for her, how impossible it is to hide it when she’s so close. That’s because my body responds instinctively to her.
“I really need to taste you.” The words tumble out before I can think better of them.
She bites her lip, and the look in her eyes sends a jolt through me. “Then prove it.”
Her challenge ignites something primal within me. I crush my mouth against hers again, drowning in the warmth of her lips. My hand glides down to where we meet, fingers brushing over the fabric of her panties.
With a swift motion, I slip them to one side and slide a finger inside her heat.
Her breath hitches as she groans against my mouth. I circle her clit with deliberate pressure, feeling the shudder ripple through her body.
“Caleb...” Her voice trembles with need.
I pull my hand free and lift it to my mouth to savor the taste of her on my fingers. “God, you taste incredible.”
The way she watches me drives me wild, but I know we need to be careful. This is Dominic de Luca’s home.
“I want more,” I whisper fiercely. “But not here.”
“Me too,” she murmurs, locking those gorgeous blue eyes onto mine as she gestures toward the door behind me. “The door is locked.”
“Dom’s in a meeting with Dante.”
“I can be quick.” She smiles as I lower her legs to the floor.
I drop to my knees, inhaling deeply, letting her scent fill my lungs.
My nose glides over the soft fabric of her panties, drawing out another moan from deep within her chest. I slide my tongue over the fabric and savor every little gasp that escapes her lips.
I crave the taste of her, the feel of her beneath my tongue.
I slide her panties to one side, my heartbeat racing as the first touch of my tongue to her clit sends a thrill straight through to my cock.
God, I want her so much.
Her fingers grab my hair, pulling me closer as I enjoy every moment of this.
Her legs tremble against me as I lick and suck her clit, drawing out every gasp and moan from her lips.
I want to devour her, to own every inch of her.
With a slow, deliberate movement, I slide a finger inside her, feeling her warmth and the tightness I’m craving to feel around my cock.
She’s panting now, her body trembling with need. “Oh my god.” The words barely escape her lips.
My finger curls inside her, teasing the spot that makes her moan louder. “I’m going to take it all on Saturday, Amara. You are going to be mine,” I whisper, my breath hot against her skin.
“Caleb—” My name sounds so sweet now.
She whispers my name again, her body shaking.
“Oh—” she cries out, and my cock hardens to an almost painful degree.
I want to claim her now, to take her against this wall and make her mine.
But a door slams outside, and we’re both jolted back to reality.
In a mad scramble, we right ourselves, hastily adjusting our clothes. Amara’s face is flushed, her eyes shining with the aftermath of her orgasm.
I grab her waist at the door, holding her close for a moment before we part.
She slides the door open and with a hasty smile, Amara says, “Thanks for the talk, Caleb.”
I nod, trying to match her casual tone. “No problem. Ask Poppy to call when she wants to be picked up.”
“I’ll drop her home,” she says as we share a last brief, but charged glance, and then she turns to leave.
Hopefully, on Saturday, she will truly be mine.