Chapter 31
Daniela woke up to the scent of cigar smoke.
Not the smelly kind that used to cling to her grandfather’s clothes. This was an earthy, nutty, spicy scent—a peppery mix of sharp cinnamon and burnt oak that seduced her olfactory senses.
She could feel herself smiling as she came more fully awake. She was warm and naked under the covers. There was a lingering soreness between her legs, and her tousled hair fell over her face.
Slowly opening her eyes, she saw Caleb sprawled in an armchair at the end of the huge bed. His chest and feet were bare, and he had on drawstring gray sweatpants. He was scrolling through his phone while puffing on a fragrant, premium cigar.
Daniela brushed her messy curls away from her face and whispered, “Hey, you.”
His eyes lifted to meet hers. “Hey.”
Feeling wonderfully limp and replete, she pushed herself up onto her elbow and gave him a lazy smile. “What’re you doing over there?”
“Looking through your Instagram.”
A frisson of panic shot through her, instantly tightening her muscles. Oh shit. He’s digging. What does that mean???
Trying to play it cool, she quipped, “Good thing I deleted all my thirst traps.”
Caleb didn’t laugh or even crack a smile.
Her nerves jangled. “That was a joke, by the way.”
“Hmm.” He took a puff from his cigar and blew a perfect smoke ring, watching it drift into the air and disperse.
Resisting the urge to squirm or fidget, she said casually, “I didn’t know you smoked cigars.”
“There’s a lot we don’t know about each other, Daniela.”
“That’s true.” She swallowed a tight knot in her throat. “I’d like to change that.”
He sucked in another lungful of smoke and exhaled through his nose, his eyes never leaving hers. “Would you?”
“Yes.” Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it above the sound of her shallow breathing. Could he hear it, too?
“Is something wrong, Caleb?” She forced a little laugh. “Are you weirded out by my sanitized Insta page?”
“Sanitized,” he repeated in a low murmur. “That’s a good description for it.”
Her heart lurched in her chest. This must be how he made prosecution witnesses feel on the stand, second-guessing every breath they took and every answer they gave. Why the hell had she asked him that question, invoking that particular word?
She tucked a curl behind her ear, trying to act and sound normal. “You think my page lacks personality?”
“Nah.” Caleb twirled his cigar between his thumb and forefinger while examining it. “I think it’s…interesting.”
Noah had set up her Instagram page with strategically curated posts, stories and reels.
As an ex-cop, he had experience creating fake social media accounts to catch criminals.
Though they’d started off with fake followers and likes, once Daniela took over the page, she began attracting organic fans who seemed to enjoy her inspirational quotes and quirky ramblings about law school.
She’d even exchanged a few friendly DMs with other first-year law students.
To the casual observer, her page looked totally legit.
But something had obviously triggered Caleb’s Spidey senses.
Daniela tried to lick her lips though her tongue felt thick and dry. “Before starting law school,” she explained, “I cleaned up my socials in case any professors or prospective employers looked me up. I want to be taken seriously. That’s why you don’t see too many selfies. Or shoe porn.”
Caleb toked his cigar, studying her through a swirling cloud of smoke.
She held her breath, waiting for his verdict.
A whole eternity passed before he nodded, tapping ashes into a glass ashtray on the chair’s armrest. “Smart move.”
The tight feeling in her chest loosened a little, and she gave him a wobbly grin. “Anything you think I should scrub or change?”
The corners of his lips twitched. “You might want to spend a little more time discussing your other classes, otherwise people might think you’ve got a serious crush on your CivPro professor.”
Daniela laughed and blushed hard, biting her lip. “Was I that transparent?”
He grinned at her around his cigar. “You were.”
“Oh my God,” she groaned, falling back on the bed and covering her face with her hands. “I am so cooked.”
Caleb chuckled softly. “Happens to the best of us.”
His words didn’t register at first. When they finally hit home, her head came up, her eyes searching his. What did he mean by that? Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Dare she hope?
Without breaking eye contact, he put his phone down and took a slow drag on his cigar. “Come here,” he murmured, smoke curling from his mouth like a sorcerer’s spell.
Entranced, Daniela sat up, the sheet sliding away from her naked body.
Holding his dark gaze, she crawled to the end of the bed and stood, climbing onto his lap and wrapping both arms around his neck.
Being so close to him, so close to all this strength and power and heat, was absolutely intoxicating.
“Better?” she whispered.
“Much.” He held his cigar away from her to protect her bare skin from falling ashes. “Does the smoke bother you?”
“No. It smells good.”
“What does it smell like to you?”
“Hmm. Woodsy and spicy, like cinnamon and charred oak with a hint of caramel. Yummy.”
His eyes gleamed with approval. “A woman of discerning taste.”
“Yup, that’s me.” She pointed to the burning cigar. “May I?”
He looked amused. “You ever smoked one before?”
“Of course,” she said in a lofty tone. “When my brothers and I were younger, we snuck one of our grandfather’s cigars and took turns smoking it. Well, Kenny and Noah took turns. I could only handle two puffs.”
Caleb grinned. “Lightweight.”
She laughed and wiggled her fingers at his cigar. “C’mon, man. Lemme redeem myself.”
He tapped ashes into the ashtray and then brought the cigar to her lips, tucking it between her teeth.
She felt his cock twitch against her ass as she took a careful drag of the savory tobacco smoke.
She almost pulled it off, almost managed to look sexy and cool.
But then she coughed before she could inhale all the way, which made him smirk and shake his head.
“Amateur,” he said in mock disgust.
She sputtered, cough-laughing.
He slid the cigar back into his mouth, took a deep pull and blew out another perfect smoke ring.
She poked her tongue out at him. “Showoff.”
Chuckling, he crushed out the cigar in the ashtray and then skated his hand over her hip, down to her bare thigh.
She shivered under his electric touch, staring into his eyes as he gently kneaded her muscles, inducing a lassitude that made her want to curl up in his arms and fall asleep with his cock snug inside her.
“Your brothers,” he murmured. “Kenneth and Noah?”
She nodded, her head heavy.
“What do they do for a living?” His tone was casual, but there was something in his eyes, something that sent another prickle of unease down her spine.
When she shifted in his lap, his dick jumped. He might be growing suspicious of her, but his body didn’t seem to care.
She traced his thick pecs, drawing lazy patterns on his skin as she fed him rehearsed lies. “Kenneth is an anesthesiologist. Noah works in construction.”
Caleb nodded slowly, watching her face with an unreadable expression that deepened her discomfort.
Both her brothers had fake social media profiles, too. But she didn’t want him asking more questions about them, didn’t want him probing for specific details. So she immediately turned the tables on him.
“I meant it when I said I want us to get to know each other better, Caleb. But it has to be a two-way street.”
His eyes narrowed. “Meaning?”
“It’s obvious you don’t like talking about yourself. Sometimes it’s hard to get you to open—”
“Was I talking to myself on the way to my father’s ranch the other night?” he challenged with a scowl. “We spent the whole ride talking about our childhoods, about growing up in San Antonio, about our hobbies and interests. Hell, woman, I even shared my retirement plans with you.”
“You did, Caleb, and it was wonderful.” She gave him a sheepish smile. “I guess I’m just greedy. I want to know everything about you. No detail is too small.”
He smirked. “No detail, huh? Hmm, let’s see…
I go running on the River Walk five mornings a week,” he started rattling off a list of Caleb-centric trivia.
“There are no crowds at that hour. It’s calm and quiet, and I can think in peace.
Growing up, I spent so many boring summers in the Hamptons that I now avoid the place like the fucking plague.
I own three vacation homes that friends and strangers get more use out of than I do.
I have two living grandparents and a slew of aunts and uncles and cousins scattered around the country—some I know, some I don’t know, and others I’ve only ever heard of.
According to my birth date I’m a Scorpio, but I don’t believe in all that shit.
If I could have dinner with any historical figure, I’d resurrect Jimi Hendrix to teach me to play the electric guitar like him.
My favorite show is The Wire, and my new favorite color is pink. ”
A delighted peal of laughter burst out of Daniela. “You did not just say that!”
“Which part?”
Giggling, she could only shake her head at him, wondering just how he kept turning her fantasies into reality without even knowing it.
He affectionately tweaked her nose. “Silly girl.”
“You’re the silly one,” she teased. “No offense, professor, but Jimi Hendrix? I mean, don’t get me wrong, he was a pioneer and a rock legend and probably a very fascinating guy.
But of all the great intellectuals, civil rights icons and legal scholars you could have chosen?
Booker T. Washington? W.E.B. Du Bois? Thurgood Marshall? ”
Caleb pffted at her. “Respectfully, none of those dudes could help me achieve my dream of playing ‘Voodoo Child’ before a packed house.”