Chapter 24
Hadley
The villa smelled like salt and coconut sunscreen even after the sun dropped.
Dinner had been loud, kids shrieking over grilled fish, Lucinda telling stories about Kylie’s preschool drama, Malcolm trying to get Eli to talk more about his redstone builds.
Eli managed a few sentences before retreating to his room with his tablet. I didn’t push. He’d done enough today.
Cal stayed quiet through most of it. Not withdrawn, just… observing. His hand found my knee under the table once or twice. Light pressure. Anchor.
After everyone scattered, Eleanor and Lucinda clearing plates, Gina putting the twins down, Malcolm and Kelly at the outdoor bar with beers, I felt the day settle heavy on my shoulders. Backache from the lounge chair. Feet swollen. Heart full in a way that scared me.
Cal found me on the terrace outside our room. Moonlight cut silver across the pool. He stepped behind me, arms sliding around my waist, chin on my shoulder.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Tired. Good tired.”
He pressed a kiss to the side of my neck. “Come inside.”
Our room was dark except for the glow from the bathroom light we’d left on. Sheer curtains moved like ghosts. The king bed looked too big, too white, too clean.
He closed the door. Locked it. Turned to me.
No words at first. Just his hands on my hips, pulling me close. I tilted my head up. He kissed me, slow, careful, like he was asking permission.
I answered by opening my mouth. Letting him in.
His tongue slid against mine. Tasted like lime from dinner and something deeper, something only him. My hands went to his shirt, tugging it up. He helped, yanking it over his head. Skin warm under my palms. Tattoos I knew by heart now, black lines across his ribs, the small one behind his ear.
I traced it. “You’re tense.”
“Always am around them,” he murmured. “But not right now.”
He walked me backward until my legs hit the mattress. Eased me down. Knelt between my thighs.
Fingers hooked the straps of my sundress. Slid them off my shoulders. Fabric pooled at my waist. Bra next, simple cotton, nothing sexy, but his eyes darkened anyway. He cupped my breasts, thumbs brushing nipples already tight from the AC and anticipation.
“These are heavier,” he said, voice rough.
“Yeah.” I laughed softly. “Blame the kid.”
He leaned down. Took one in his mouth. Sucked slow. Tongue circling. I arched. Gasped.
“Cal…”
He switched sides. Hand sliding down my stomach, pausing to feel the bump. Palm flat. Waiting. A small kick answered. He smiled against my skin.
“Still kicking like he owns the place.”
I threaded fingers through his hair. “Your son.”
He looked up. Eyes soft in the dim light. “Maybe.”
Then lower. Dress pushed up. Underwear slid down my legs. He kissed the inside of one thigh. Then the other. Spread me open with gentle thumbs.
Tongue first, flat, slow drag from entrance to clit. I moaned. Hips lifting.
He licked circles. Steady rhythm. Then sucked gently. Two fingers slid inside, curved up. Found that spot. Rubbed while his tongue flicked faster.
My breath hitched. “Right there, don’t stop...”
He didn’t. Kept the pace perfect. Fingers pumping. Tongue relentless.
I came hard, thighs shaking, walls pulsing around his fingers, cry muffled into my own arm.
He climbed up. Kissed me deep. I tasted myself on his tongue. Salty. Sweet.
I reached for his shorts. Pushed them down. He kicked them off. Cock hard against my thigh.
I wrapped my hand around him. Stroked slow. Thumb over the tip. He groaned into my mouth.
“Inside,” I whispered.
He settled between my legs. Rubbed the head through my wetness. Teased my entrance. Pushed in slow, inch by inch, stretching me. Filling me.
We both groaned when he bottomed out.
He stayed still a moment. Forehead against mine. Breathing ragged.
“You feel so good,” he said. Voice low. Raw.
“Move.”
He did. Long, deep thrusts. Controlled at first. Then faster. Harder. Bed creaking under us. Headboard tapping the wall softly.
I wrapped my legs around his waist. Pulled him deeper.
“Harder,” I breathed.
He gave it. Skin slapping skin. Sweat slicking between us. One hand braced beside my head. The other on my hip...guiding. Possessive.
“Right there...Cal..fuck...”
He angled up. Hit that spot again. Again.
I clenched. Came around him, hard, pulsing, gasping his name into his shoulder.
He followed right after. Groaned low. Spilled deep inside me. Hips jerking. Body shuddering.
We collapsed. Tangled. Breathing hard.
He didn’t pull out right away. Stayed inside me. Softening slowly. Kissed my temple. Cheek. Mouth.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
I cupped his face. “For what?”
“For this. For letting me.”
I didn’t answer. Just held him tighter.
He finally slipped out. Rolled to his back. Pulled me against his chest. My head on his shoulder. Leg thrown over his. His hand found my bump again. Caressed slow circles.
The room was quiet except for the ocean outside. Steady waves. Like breathing.
I traced the tattoo on his ribs. “You were different today.”
“How?”
“Gentle. Present. You looked at Eli like you actually saw him.”
He exhaled. “He’s… easy to be around. No expectations. Just facts. Patterns. I get that.”
I smiled into his skin. “He likes you. More than he lets on.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Asked me yesterday if you’d teach him guitar chords. Said your fingers move fast.”
Cal laughed, quiet. Real. “I can do that.”
We lay like that a long time. His fingers in my hair. Mine on his chest. Heartbeat steady under my palm.
“You meant it?” I asked softly. “About getting help?”
“Yeah.” No hesitation. “I don’t want to be numb when he’s here. I want to feel it. All of it.”
I swallowed. “Even the scary parts?”
“Especially those.”
I pressed closer. “I’m scared too.”
“Of what?”
“Of hoping. Of believing this could be real.”
He kissed my forehead. “I know.”
His hand kept moving on my bump. Slow. Soothing.
A kick answered. Strong.
He smiled against my hair. “See? He agrees.”
I laughed. Soft. Tired.
We didn’t speak after that.
Just held each other.
Moonlight shifted across the sheets.
His breathing evened out first.
Mine took longer.
Because even in the quiet, his arm around me, hand protective on our child, I still felt the crack in him.
Small.
Real.
Terrifying.
Because if he could feel this much for the baby…
What happened when he finally felt it for me?
And what if he didn’t?