Chapter 6
Cal West
Sloane slams the door behind her, and I immediately bring my fingers to my nose, breathing in her scent.
Then, like the freak she called me, I slip them between my lips and swirl my tongue around each digit.
Damn, she has one sweet pussy.
I groan at the taste of her.
I’ve really been missing out.
Sloane has the tightest cunt I’ve ever had. So wet and perfect.
Made for me.
The way she finally came sent me over the edge. It was the trust she gave me and the strength of her need.
It was fucking intoxicating.
I love that I was able to get her there.
By the look in her eyes afterward, I could tell it threw her off too.
Baby girl doesn’t know what hit her if she thinks I’m about to be her one-and-done.
I was all for a booty call because I knew it would be good, but this is more than that for me.
I’ve waited a long time for that woman, and I have the patience of a saint.
She’s falling right into the carefully laid trap I’ve made for her.
Except she doesn’t have to worry about being caught.
Once I catch her, I’ll keep her.
But I’ll treasure her too.
???
After the best sleep of my life, I wake up and do exactly what I told her I would, picturing Sloane the entire time.
Then I shower and head to the paint store.
I pick up the paint Sloane set aside for her kitchen before stopping by the coffee shop. I know exactly what she orders because I’m a stalker like that.
Once the barista hands it over, I take a sip to make sure it’s right.
I nod in satisfaction and head back to my car.
I grab her a greasy breakfast sandwich for good measure.
Being a savior and a control freak is my favorite pastime.
With all the painting supplies in tow, I put on an old pair of jeans and let myself into Sloane’s house with the key Shirley gave me.
She isn’t awake yet, which I expected after how wild she was last night.
My dick twitches at the memory.
God, it was hot.
Better than I imagined.
I lay out the drop cloth and mix the paint until my forearm starts to tighten. This is the worst part, in my opinion.
So much time wasted mixing.
She chose a pale blue that’s so light it could almost count as white. I like it and think Shirley would approve. It brightens the space and gives it a Victorian cottage feel without looking outdated.
What the hell do I know about home design?
I trust Sloane’s judgment.
I’m sweating, and one wall is nearly finished before I hear rustling upstairs.
I grin, wondering how she’ll react to finding me in her kitchen again without an invitation.
Her bedroom door opens, followed by a loud bang and a curse.
“Damn thing!” she yells.
I chuckle under my breath.
Clumsy little thing.
Footsteps sound on the stairs. I look over, and Sloane freezes the second she sees me.
“Morning,” I say cheerfully.
Her mouth falls open before she manages to recover.
“What... What are you doing here?” she asks, sounding frazzled as she pushes back her messy hair.
“Painting?”
I gesture toward the wall as if the answer should be obvious.
“Wait. What? What color? What are you even doing, Cal?”
She suddenly finds some energy and rushes over to inspect my work.
“It’s the blue you chose. I think Shirley would like it too,” I say with a soft smile.
She stares at me, her hazel eyes wide and confused. She has the cutest sleepy look on her face, and I can’t stop myself from leaning down and pressing a kiss against her soft morning lips.
Sloane looks up at me, completely at a loss.
“I brought you coffee and a breakfast sandwich,” I add to sweeten the deal.
Her eyebrows rise as she looks toward the items on the kitchen island.
Without a word, she moves toward them and pulls out a stool.
“Nice pajamas,” I tease.
She looks down and huffs.
Her green sleep shorts are inside out, and her shirt is buttoned wrong, leaving one undone in the middle.
I smirk as she rips open the bag and takes a large bite of the breakfast sandwich.
She closes her eyes and releases a grateful little moan that makes my dick twitch.
Jesus.
Then she takes a sip of coffee.
Her eyes widen slightly, and even though she tries to hide it, I catch the reaction.
Sloane looks over and finds me watching her. She doesn’t ask how I managed to get her order exactly right.
“I suppose you can stay,” she says, a soft smile curling her lips.
I plant my hands on my hips in mock outrage.
“And what do I get for all this free labor?”
“The honor of being my slave boy,” she says without looking up from her sandwich.
I bark out a laugh.
“Oh, baby. I’m good with that.”
She rolls her eyes. “How did I know?”
I return to work and let her enjoy her breakfast, stealing glances at her every now and then.
“So, what do you have planned today, gorgeous?”
Sloane looks up and wipes her mouth.
“I planned on painting the kitchen, actually.” She gives me a little smirk. “Now that you’ve got that covered, I desperately need to find a job.”
She sighs and props her chin on her hands.
“Do you know anyone who’s hiring?”
“Hmm. I’m not sure. I’d have to think about it. What did you used to do again?”
“I’m an accountant,” she tells me, watching for my reaction.
She’s full of shit.
“You are not.”
“I am.” She smiles like she expected that response.
I cock my head in challenge.
She has to be lying. There’s no way she sits behind a desk dealing with numbers all day.
Not because I think she isn’t smart enough.
Her energy is just all over the damn place.
“I’m not lying,” she says, laughing. “Why does no one ever believe me?”
“Because you’re a total spitfire,” I shoot back like it’s common sense.
The grin that splits her face is immediate.
“You think so, yeah?”
“Oh no. I know so.”
I can’t think of anyone hiring right now, but I can make some calls.
I know nearly everyone in the area.
“Let me make some calls for you.”
“You’d do that?” she asks, her eyes lighting up.
“Of course.”
“Thank you, Cal.”
We stare at each other for a moment, and something in my chest softens.
Sloane is amazing.
The way she looks at me makes me think she feels the same before the moment breaks.
“I need to shower and get ready.”
I nod. “I’ll be here. I should be starting the second coat soon.”
“You’re amazing.”
“Funny. I was just thinking the same thing about you, baby.”
Sloane’s soft smile is everything.
I watch her saunter toward the stairs before forcing myself to get back to work.
She’s barely been gone for ten minutes when someone knocks on the front door.
I set down my brush and go to see who it is.
When I open the door, I’m greeted by the last face I ever expected or wanted to see.
Owen.
Her ex-husband.
He stands on the porch, his face tight with anger.
“Cal? What the fuck are you doing here?” he demands, looking me up and down.
This bastard has some balls showing up here.
His fury is palpable as he sizes me up.
“Owen,” I greet coldly.
“Are you screwing my wife?” he roars.
“Your ex-wife, you mean. Trust me, she won’t want to see you.”
“Where is she?” he grits out.
I’m so glad Sloane dumped this dead weight.
I lean against the door and casually cross my arms.
His eyes narrow as he waits for an answer.
“In the shower.”
“Okay, well, I need to speak with her. Can I come in?” he asks as if I’m stupid.
“Not without Sloane’s permission.”
I hold my ground, blocking his view inside.
“Who the hell do you think you are?”
“Right now? Security.”
“Fuck you,” he spits.
“Cal, who is it?” Sloane asks.
I look back and find her coming down the stairs, drying her wet hair with a towel.
Her hair is dripping, and she’s wrapped in a satin robe.
Damn, she looks good.
I don’t want this asshole seeing her like this.
He doesn’t deserve this queen.
He never did.
“It’s your ex, dear,” I tell her in a singsong voice.
“Owen?”
She rushes toward the door.
I’m not sure whether enthusiasm or shock makes her move so quickly, and it irks the hell out of me.
Sloane steps into the doorway, ducking beneath my shoulder.
“Owen? What do you want?”
His gaze roams over her hungrily, and I want to knock his lights out.
“I... I wanted to see you. To talk,” he stutters.
She stubbornly crosses her arms.
“What is there to talk about?”
“A lot. But I can see you’re busy. Can I take you out to lunch today?”
Her eyebrows pull together.
She’s confused. I can tell this came out of nowhere.
“I don’t have anything to say to you, Owen.”
“Please, Sloane. I... I fucked up.”
She releases an exasperated huff.
“Yeah, you did, and it was the best thing that ever happened to me. Go beg for Julie’s sloppy pussy.”
He shakes his head. “You know, you’re a real bitch sometimes.”
“I’m just telling it like it is. Besides, you don’t have what I need.”
She looks him up and down, disgust written all over her face.
“Never did.”
Boom.
Damn, I’m proud of my woman.
I do her a favor and slam the door in his stunned face.
He immediately starts pounding against it, but the grin Sloane gives me is fucking wicked.
“That was hot,” I say, impressed.
Sloane bites her lip before flinging herself at me.
I catch her easily and press her back against the door.
I hope the stupid fuck hears exactly what he’s missing.
My hands tear open her silk robe and find her slick heat already wet.
“Christ. No panties?”
“Surprise.”
She smiles against my lips, and I devour her sweet mouth.
I rub her clit, and she moans as she pushes into my hand.
“That turn you on, baby?” I tease, slipping a finger into her heat.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve been wet since coming in the shower earlier,” Sloane confesses.
I groan.
“You were thinking about my cock, baby girl?”
“God, yes.”
“My fingers?”
“Cal,” she whimpers as I pump my fingers inside her cunt.
I kiss down her long neck and suck at the sensitive skin near her shoulder, making her buck against me.
My fingers push deeper.
I can’t hold back much longer.
She’s ready for me, but I want her to understand that I need control.
If she wants to please me, Sloane has to surrender.
I pull away from her neck and meet her hooded hazel eyes.
“Then get on your knees.”
She meets my stare with a glare of her own.
Several emotions pass through her expression. Her eyes seem to change color with each one before melting into warm honey.