Chapter 9 Calliope #2
“Clearly you don’t understand what being mine means.
It means you belong to me, every part of you.
From your hair down to your toes, it’s all mine.
” He placed his hand between my legs, cupping my sex.
My breath hitched, but he did not start to rub or dip inside me.
It was more of a possessive hold than a sensual one.
“And last I checked, Winnie, your ovaries and uterus were a part of you. Which means that any child that you have would be mine.”
I swallowed hard, my mind trying to process his declaration. “Even if you’re not the father?”
A low growl emanated from him, and he bared his teeth like an animal.
“I damn well better be the father. But I also know that this world is a cruel and vicious place. And while I would rather die than face the reality that someone took you against your will, it would not change my feelings for you or the child that might come from such a heinous act.”
I hadn’t meant rape when I’d asked my question, and while his answer was dark, there was a reassurance in it. I appreciated his honesty, too. Then again, I would expect no less from him.
“I’m not on birth control,” I informed him.
“And I despise using condoms with you.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “You do?” Only just last night, he’d told me he never had sex without one, even if the woman claimed she was on something.
He nodded. “The idea of a barrier between us feels wrong.”
“So what do you want to do?”
“Well, as positive as I am that I’m clean, I should get myself tested before I take you bare again. If I thought for a second I wasn’t, I would have never taken you as I had.”
“I trust you,” I swore.
“That trust means everything to me,” he said earnestly. “I will never betray it, Calliope. I swear to you.”
“Good, because your penis will end up in a blender if you do.” I smile wickedly at him.
Though he winced, he did ask, “What, no boils?”
I shrugged. “Too clichéd for my taste. I much prefer a more straightforward method of blending your dick into a milkshake and making you drink it.”
He gagged. “Good to—” He gagged again. “Good to know,” he managed to get out.
“As for kids,” I said like I hadn’t just threatened his manhood, “why don’t we let the universe decide? What happens, happens.”
He blinked, and for a moment I thought I had startled him speechless. “That’s exactly what I’d thought in the sweat lodge. Like word for word what I’d said to myself.”
“Good. Then we’re on the same page.” I reached behind him and turned off the water.
It was a good thing my dad had upgraded the house years ago to have a much larger hot water heater.
We’d been in here so long that I was nearly a prune.
“Now, we need to get out of here. We really need to keep ourselves hydrated today. Are you coming to the shop with me?”
“I’ll never be anywhere else.”
I picked up my phone a second before it pinged with a notification.
Starbucks had abandoned me in search of coffee while I was finishing up in the bathroom.
I wasn’t offended; it was in the man’s nature, after all.
Plus, he’d already combed my long hair out for me, so I figured that earned him some coffee.
I made him promise to drink a full cup of water while he was waiting for his brew.
A video posted. It was Wet Wednesday if Starbucks was following his pattern.
Since he was here with me, I figured the video had been scheduled earlier at some point.
I really needed him to show me how to do that.
All I knew was how to upload an edited video and publish it or do a live.
I’d only ever done a live once, and got tongue-tied so much that I vowed never to do so again.
I figured my minimal followers would be grateful for that.
I opened my phone case so it stood up on the counter, pressed Play, and picked up my straightener again.
He was standing close enough to the camera that the viewer couldn’t see his face.
Just the top of his chest to just below his groin.
I was a bit disappointed he was clothed, despite him still being sexy in them.
I just preferred the alternative. I could make out the edges of his cut in addition to the black shirt and jeans he was wearing.
The video lighting was dark with a red tint.
Bass music thumped like a techno club in the background as Starbucks reached for his belt one-handed.
A female voice sang over my speakers that she was a bad girl followed by a low, masculine chuckle.
I missed what it was the voiceover said because I was entirely too focused on what happened next.
He whipped his belt off in a single fluid motion. A bare, tattooed, muscular chest and stomach I now knew intimately well came onto my screen. I nearly dropped my straightener, and with shaky fingers, decided it was probably safer to put it down on my bathroom counter.
The music pulsed in the background as the angle changed as if Starbucks had laid himself over me and his body started moving as if he was fucking me—or the viewer. A shiver took over my body, remembering the feel of his weight on top of me.
And true to the theme of today, my panties became very, very wet. My nipples turned into deadly spikes in my bra and my knees turned to mush. I had to grip the countertop to hold myself upright.
The camera shifted up until his face came into view. The camera held his gaze as if he was staring down into my soul. Then his eyes seemed to roll back into his head as his lips moved, and I blinked. He hadn’t mouthed anything along the lines of the music he’d chosen.
I had no idea if I could rewind a video so I had to sacrifice my precious time to rewatch it. Eh, who was I kidding? I would be rewatching it about twenty times before the end of the day anyway. Because damn.
Then again, why rewatch it when I could reenact it? Huh. Food for thought.
Picking up my phone, I watched the video again. I tried really hard not to get distracted, but ended up having to rewatch it. On the third try, I kept my eyes closed until right up to when I thought his mouth would move, but ended up missing it, so I had to watch it a fourth time.
It was on the fifth try that I was able to verify that he wasn’t mouthing along to the music and on the sixth try that I figured out what the word was that he’d mouthed.
“Winnie…”
Oh fuck! I nearly dropped my phone. He’d said my nickname on one of his videos! A very, very suggestive video. Gods! Well, he hadn’t actually said it, just mouthed it. But still, the intent was clear. He’d made a video as if he’d been fucking me!
Movement out of the corner of my eye startled me, and I froze.
I’d been concentrating so hard on the video on my phone that I hadn’t been paying attention to much else.
I made a slow pan towards the open door of my bathroom to see Starbucks standing there.
He was casually leaning against the frame, sipping a cup of coffee.
“Naughty, naughty,” he mused into his cup. His voice echoed slightly off of the ceramic. “And what could you be watching this early in the morning that has you so hot and bothered?”
I nearly threw my phone at him.
My entire morning was shot. Between my failed attempt at meditating that turned into the amazing success of losing my virginity, I was very behind schedule.
My parents, bless their hearts, had smartly stayed in their bedroom this morning, giving Starbucks and me the illusion that we had the house to ourselves.
They also kept Oolong and Joe company, or maybe it was the other way around.
Before Starbucks and I could leave for the store, I had to check on my bees.
Especially with winter coming, and the temperatures dropping lower and lower each night, I needed to keep an eye on them.
I hadn’t lost a hive yet to the cold, and I wasn’t about to start now.
Bundled up in my jacket, I led Starbucks out into my apiary.
“How many bees do you have?” he asked, zipping up his own jacket. The frost was mostly gone now, but there was still a good mountain breeze today. I smelled snow in the air, too. It wasn’t coming now, but it would soon.
“There’s no way to answer that with an exact number, especially now with the winter coming. Each colony can have anywhere between twenty to fifty thousand bees.”
His jaw popped open. “Seriously? Are you sure we don’t need protection?”
I laughed. “I have a hood if you want it, but you won’t need it.”
“Do you know that for certain or are you just saying that because you think all bees are friendly?”
I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye.
“I’m a professional beekeeper, Starbucks.
Of course, I don’t think all bees are friendly.
I know how to interact with them, and I know the moods of my hives.
But it would be arrogant of me to not have protection with me, too.
I have a hood and a full suit just like any responsible beekeeper would.
Now, if you want one, I’ll grab one for you.
But I promise you, you won’t need it. The bees won’t venture out too much in this weather. ”
Though his steps never faltered, I could feel his nervousness. “No, it’s fine. Just don’t tell the guys I almost wimped out.”
I tried not to laugh. I really did. To soften my reaction, I took his hand. “You said you aren’t allergic, so even on the off chance that you are stung, it’s not so bad.”
“You really suck at pep-talks. You know that, right?”
I laughed again. “Seriously, you’ll be fine. Bees are less aggressive during the winter because it takes up too much heat and energy. Now, if you took a baseball bat to their hives, it would be a completely different story.”
“Leave baseball bat at home, check.” He squeezed my hand. “Do bees hibernate?”