CHAPTER 5 Penny Calloway
Fuck Work
He pulls out of me, and his cum drips down out of me onto that gorgeous, buttery blanket, but he doesn’t care.
Instead, he leaps up and returns with a washcloth—not for his blanket, but for me.
He’s taking care of me in a way I don’t know if I’ve ever been taken care of. He’s a full decade younger than my piece of trash, soon-to-be ex-husband, God willing, yet the older man could definitely learn a thing or two—or five—from the younger.
Maybe age doesn’t matter. Maybe at thirty-three, that’s not really a thing anymore the way it might have been when I was fifteen, and he was…okay, when I was twenty, and he was…
Yeah, never mind. Let’s not go there.
He kisses me gently after he wipes me clean, and I force myself up to go to the bathroom anyway, taking the washcloth with me and setting it over the side of his luxurious bathtub.
I’m tempted to run the water and get in.
A long soak sounds delicious right now, especially a bath for two, but I’d much rather get back to bed.
I feel strange walking around without my clothes, but they’re back in his bedroom, so once I’m done cleaning up, I head back out there, still naked and decidedly awkward.
He’s lying in bed just waiting for me. He’s not scrolling his phone or playing some game or getting work done, but he’s waiting for me. He’s lying on his side, still naked. His eyes are open, and they’re on me as I walk into the room.
It’s a strange phenomenon. Sex became such a chore that I forgot what it was like to enjoy it—or to feel like my partner enjoyed it and actually wanted to be with me. Wanted to focus on me. Solely me.
I slip into bed beside him and lie on my stomach, leaning up on my elbows and settling my gaze on him, and something about the appreciation in his gaze makes me feel a lot less awkward.
His fingertips dance lazily along my spine, and I move my arms so my face hits the pillow.
I feel like I could sleep for a million years right now, yet I don’t want to go to sleep and miss out on whatever this part of our night is.
I rest my hand on the pillow beside my face, and he reaches for it, turns it over, and threads his fingers through mine.
“You’re incredible, Pen.”
“You’re not too bad yourself, Liam.”
He chuckles. “Thanks.” His voice is a bit subdued. A bit…disbelieving.
“I wish you could see yourself how I see you,” I blurt.
He raises a brow. “Oh? And how is that?”
I lift a shoulder, and his fingers flex in my hand.
“You’re smart, and you’re not afraid to go for it.
You’re a freaking NFL star, Liam. How many people dream of that, and how many achieve it?
Not many. But you’re so kind, and you’re gentle, but you can also be rough, as you just showed me.
You’re funny, and you’re hot. And your cock…
” I widen my eyes and wiggle my brows, and he laughs.
“You’re like this dreamboat of a man, and I’m not quite sure how I never noticed that before. ”
“Thanks for saying that,” he says softly. “Most of the time, I see myself as a backup in pretty much every aspect of life. It’s nice to hear someone sees something different.”
I’m shocked that’s how he thinks of himself. “That’s not what I see at all.”
“I wish you could see yourself how I see you,” he says, repeating my own words to me.
I decide to get vulnerable, too. “I’d love to hear it. I mostly think of myself as used goods now. Like I gave my best years to a piece-of-shit human, and nobody will want what’s left over.” A dart of nervousness zips along my spine as I wait for his answer.
“Fuck, Pen. That couldn’t be further from the truth.
You’re absolutely stunningly gorgeous. You’re experienced but not snobby, and you’re worldly but not stuffy.
You’re fun, and despite the heaviness you’re going through, you still manage to be light.
You’re so much stronger and braver than you give yourself credit for.
You’re so goddamn scared to let your guard down, so scared to just let go and have some fun, but you did it for me tonight. And your cunt tastes fantastic.”
I chuckle at his assessment. Maybe it wasn’t as cobwebby down there as I thought. “It’s scary to let my guard down,” I admit. “But something about you has me opening up.”
“Maybe because we’ve known each other a long time? I’m the same way. I don’t open up to anybody, but I feel like I can trust that you’re not just here with me because of what I do for a living or who my family is.”
I twist my lips. “If anything, I should run the other way because of who your family is.”
He presses his lips together. “She never has to find out, Pen. Tonight…it was just for us. It can always stay between us.”
I’m not sure why that statement kind of hurts. It shouldn’t. It was always just for tonight even if we didn’t explicitly say that. There are too many complications for it to be more than that, too many risks to do this again.
I think about how over the next month, I’ll most definitely see him again.
He already told me he’s going to the bachelor party in Vegas this weekend…
the same weekend I’ll be there for the bachelorette party.
And then there’s Everleigh’s wedding, and oh, God, I just had sex with her brother. Her younger brother.
What have I done?
I can’t help but think as I stare into his dark brown eyes during this quiet conversation despite the fact that we’re both naked and I had his cum dripping out of my pussy fifteen minutes ago…what we just did was far from wrong.
But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to write a tell-all to his sister just yet.
Some things are meant to be kept under wraps, and I’ve never been huge into spreading the news about my sex life. But there was also nothing to tell before.
And now…
Well, sleeping with an NFL star seven years my junior is certainly some good gossip that I’d normally want to share with my best friend, sort of like how Everleigh called me at two in the morning after the first time she hate fucked the man she’s marrying in a few weeks, and I asked her to tell me about his monster cock.
It’s not like I can share the details about the monster cock of the man who just railed me, though to be fair…it is definitely a monster.
And I definitely want more of it.
We lay lazily in his bed, talking quietly about nothing and everything, about San Diego and divorce and kids and fears. Somehow he makes me feel seen. He makes me feel like I’m important, like what I have to say matters.
At some point we both fall asleep.
When I wake, it’s with a headache. I’m thankful for the water I chugged before we had sex, but it wasn’t enough, and my mouth is as dry as a desert.
I have no idea what time it is because he has black drapes in his room that make it seem like night in here, and I don’t see a clock.
I pad around the room until I realize I left my phone in my purse downstairs, and I search around for my clothes and head into the bathroom to get dressed.
There’s light streaming into the window there, so I’m guessing I’m definitely late for work.
Shit.
I head back out to the bedroom, and I find Liam sitting on my side of the bed, legs on the floor, waiting for me. He’s still naked. Still gloriously, fantastically naked.
“You got dressed,” he murmurs, and I swear I spot a bit of disappointment in his eyes.
It surprises me.
I figured he’d wake with regrets this morning, that last night to him was just a drunken mistake, when to me it was a loud, clear symbol of the fact that I’m ready to move on with my life. I’m ready for this goddamn divorce to be finalized, and I’m ready for whatever comes next.
I’m just…ready.
“Come here,” he says, and I walk over to him.
He wraps his arms around my waist, and he rests his head on my stomach.
I allow my fingertips to dive into his hair for a few beats, his messy hair that’s a bit shaggy, a bit too long, a bit too unlike his older brothers, a bit too sexy for his own good. “Last night—”
“It’s okay, Liam,” I say, cutting him off. “We don’t need to say anything about it.”
He turns so he’s looking up at me, and I’m gazing down at him.
“But I want to.”
I press my lips together as the shields go back up, and I nod as I wait for him to tell me how much he regrets what happened and how it can never happen again.
“Last night, something changed for me.”
My brows pinch together as I wait for him to go on, and when he rises to a stand, I see that his cock is hard. Probably it’s because it’s morning. He takes me in his arms, and he towers over me.
“What changed?” I whisper.
He leans down and presses a soft kiss to my lips, and then he pulls back.
“I don’t know. But my life has been filled with indecision lately.
I have no clue where I’m going. Where I’ll land.
What’s next for me. But being with you…hell, even just lying in bed talking to you.
You are the first thing that’s felt right in a long time. ”
I know exactly what he means, but it’s not like I can say it back.
I have a reality to return to. Two young boys who are with me ninety percent of the time. A job that I’m going to be late to today. A cheating husband who I’m still technically married to and who is drawing this divorce out.
Last night was like something out of a dream, and while his words this morning are both surprising and sweet, while I’d love to revel in him and lie beneath him naked again…it just isn’t reality.
“It was an incredible night for me, too, Liam. Thank you.” I pull out of his arms and locate my boots. As I beeline for them, I say, “I’m so sorry, but I need to get to work.”
I still don’t know exactly what time it is. I still need to stop home first and take a quick shower and change clothes.
“Fuck work. Spend the day with me,” he says.
I glance over at him as I step into my shoes, and part of me wishes it were just that easy.
That I could skip out on work and lie naked with him.
We could shower together, or maybe take that bath I dreamed of last night.
We could drink coffee in bed and feed each other chocolate croissants without spilling any crumbs on that gorgeous blanket, and the maid could come in and serve us and also leave fresh flowers on the nightstand, and time can just stand still while we do all of this.
See? None of this is based in reality, from the lack of crumbs to the fresh flowers.
Instead, reality is that I need to go to work because I’m relying on the paycheck to get me out of the house I’m sharing with Brent.
Reality is that I need to be in the school pickup line by two forty-five, because if I’m not, that means I’ll be waiting in line for an extra half hour while my kids wonder where I am.
Reality is that Benji has soccer practice at four, Sammy has baseball practice at five, neither are at the same park, and sometime before or after that, I need to make dinner and sit and read with both of them and go over math facts and sign the papers the teachers sent home.
So as much as I’d like to fuck work and spend the day naked with Liam, I simply can’t.
He pads over to me as I straighten after my shoes are on, and he sweeps me up into his arms.
I gasp. “Put me down!”
He chuckles as he tosses me down onto the bed, and he’s on top of me a moment later, hovering, smiling, pinning me in place. He’s sexy, and he’s fun, and God, do I want more time with him.
Fuck work.
He drops his lips to mine, and he thrusts his hips against me. He’s hard. He’s ready. An ache pulses between my legs.
God, do I want him again.
Last night was so good. I can only imagine how good it would be this morning, both of us sober, with maybe some feelings involved now.
But I can’t. His lips trail from mine to my neck, and I let out a heavy sigh as reality plows into me again. “Ugh, Liam. I wish I could spend the day with you, but I really do need to get to the office.”
He freezes then pulls back from my neck. He twists his lips. “I know. I probably need to get to San Diego, too. Reality sucks.”
I laugh as he straightens and stands, and he helps me to a stand, too. “Yes, it does.” I wrap my arms around him and squeeze his ass once more for good measure.
He grabs a pair of shorts, a shirt, and his slides, and he leads the way downstairs. I’m trying to come up with something clever to say, something that will express how great last night was, how I don’t want to leave it in the past even though we both know we have to.
I come up short.
And then my eyes fall onto the clock. Shit. It’s nearly nine, and I’m usually at the office by now. I haven’t checked my schedule for the day, but it’s Thursday, and I have a standard Thursday morning meeting at nine.
“Can I get you something to eat?”
I shake my head. “I have a meeting at nine. I’ll just grab a protein shake at home.”
“Can I walk you back to your car?” he asks.
I duck as I offer a small smile. “I’d like that.”
He clutches my hand in his as we walk from his building to my car, me in the clothes I wore last night, him in shorts, a T-shirt, and flip-flops, and it feels so good, so natural to walk with him.
Too good. Too natural.
Dangerously good. Dangerously natural.
When we get to my Honda Pilot, I click the button to unlock it. The wind is whipping again, as usual, and I shiver in the cool breeze. Or maybe I’m shivering because I have to say goodbye.
He wraps his arms around me, somehow warm to my freezing, and I don’t want him to let go.
He leans forward and presses his lips to mine, and when he pulls back, I feel a little dizzy.
“Thanks for a great night,” he says. “I’ll see you around.” He’s so calm and cool while I feel like I’m going to melt into a puddle of need for him.
I clear my throat and force a clear head. I offer a small smile. “See you around.”
And then I get into my car, start it up, and drive away, leaving him—and our night—in my rearview.