Chapter Five
Callum
Malissa’s words from the other day stay with me, and I can barely focus on my clients. I’m just going through the motions because I can’t help but keep glancing at my receptionist. I already know Acacia is attracted to me, I feel her eyes on me daily. But Malissa was hinting at something more. Would Acacia actually be interested in giving me her virginity? Is she aware that means I could never let her go? That the minute we took our relationship from merely colleagues to something physical, she’d be mine? My prick perks up at that, wanting desperately to stake its claim on her maidenhood.
I watch for a lull of members checking in and walk over to the desk, catching Acacia reading a book.
“Hey,” I say.
She startles, tossing the book beneath her with a short scream.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” I say, scratching at the back of my neck.
Her eyes linger on the arm stretched by my head before she looks up at me. Her cheeks flush a little pink as she gives me a small smile. “It’s not you. I’m easily scared.”
I nod, dropping my arm at my side and blowing out a breath. “So you mentioned dinner the other day. I was about to leave and wondered if you still wanted to go.”
“When did…” Her eyebrows scrunch before her face burns a brighter shade of red. “You want to go to dinner… with me?”
“Yeah.” I grin, some of the nerves draining away. I lean on the counter. “Or we can just grab some food and relax at your place.”
“Or your place,” she says quickly. Her blush still hasn’t gone away, and I’m enamored by the pink flush. “Sorry, my roommates are really nosy.”
I shrug. “My place is fine. I just wanted to make you comfortable. What’s your favorite food?”
Acacia smiles, the beauty of it causing a tightening in my groin. “Italian. Can’t go wrong with pasta.”
“Alright. I just have a few things to tidy up and Rosy should be here in ten minutes. Then we can go?”
She nods enthusiastically and I savor her reaction. Her excitement eats away at my doubts and warnings that I shouldn’t get involved with my employee.
“Wow you have a really nice place,” she says in awe, looking around at the single story home. It’s a small bungalow with only a few bedrooms and a single bathroom.
“It was my mom’s. Paid off the mortgage while she was still alive and then kept the house,” I tell her with a shrug.
Her face falls. “Oh I’m sorry, Callum.”
I smile, knowing she’s genuinely hurt by my pain. “She had me pretty late in her life, so it wasn’t exactly a shock when she passed.”
“Still. Losing a parent is never easy,” she says.
Nodding and wanting to move away from this somber subject, I head towards the living room with the bags of food still gripped tightly in my hands. “Want to eat there?” I ask sheepishly, glancing at my dining room table stacked with boxes of the gym’s promotion material.
Her little nose scrunches as she grins. “I’m good with wherever.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask if I can devour her on my bed but I walk ahead, leading us to the low coffee table and set our meals down. I wave for her to sit on the coach and follow down next to her. She tenderly pulls out the plastic containers of our meals, setting my chicken alfredo down before me and her spaghetti in front of her.
“Oh. We forgot drinks,” I say. “I only have water.”
Acacia smiles at me. “Water is fine.”
I leave her there and grab us some cups of water in the kitchen. The awkward tension is eating at my nerves. I’m not sure why I’m so nervous. I’ve dreamed of making her mine more than once before. Now the opportunity is slipping through my fingers. I’m fumbling like a teenage boy who saw his first pair of tits.
Moving back, I set the cups down and sit closer to her so our thighs are touching. Acacia opens her lid and moans at the smell of her noodles. My pants start to tighten near my crotch at the noise, and I clear my throat.
“Have you had this place before?”
She shakes her head. “No. I’m more of a go home and just fill up on snacks kind of girl.”
I chuckle. “Nothing wrong with snacks.”
Her nose scrunches. “No, but sometimes I miss meals. I’m not the best cook, even after the greatest efforts by my sister.”
“Your sister?”
Acacia’s face softens. “My sister is eleven years older than me and a professional chef. She pretty much took over family meals by the time I was old enough to start appreciating the food.”
My chest warms at the affection for her family as she speaks. I smile, nudging at her shoulder. “I’ve always heard that chefs hate cooking outside of the job, kind of like how cleaners sometimes have messy homes themselves.”
Plates pushed aside, Acacia wipes at her mouth and then leans against the cushions. “Thank you. That was so good.”
I settle next to her, stretching my arm across the back behind her head. She moves closer, resting in the crook of my arm and shoulder. Her big brown eyes blink up at me, and I swallow down my nerves. I’ve kissed plenty of girls, but I suddenly feel exposed and vulnerable, like kissing Acacia would be a completely different experience.
Leaning forward, I press my lips against hers. The pressure is soft, and I rest there for a few seconds. When she shifts slightly, I press harder. My hand cups her face, my fingertips tangling in her hair as I tilt her head back and move against her mouth. She copies my moves a little hesitantly, and the muffled whimper that hums in her throat sends arousal south, pumping my blood like a balloon animal.
I lick at the seam of her lips. When she gasps, I shove my tongue into her mouth, devouring the taste of her. She moans, her hand coming up to rest on my chest. I let go of her face and grab her thigh to drag her onto my lap. Acacia senses what I’m trying to do, swings her knee over, and drops down. My breath knocks out of my lungs, and I’m barely conscious of pushing and sending her off me.
A grunt rumbles in my chest as I cup my family jewels.
“Are you okay?” Acacia cries out, jumping off the couch.
My chin is pressed against my chest as I try to rock through the waves of pain rolling from between my thighs. I’ve been kicked in the balls a few times, and this is severely worse. I finally catch my breath and let out a small moan, squeezing my eyes shut as I hold myself.
“Callum. Please tell me what’s wrong. Is your dic-uhm… discostick okay?”
A humorless laugh escapes my throat and I look up at her. Even in the middle of a crisis, she still refuses to cuss. Her panicked expression makes my heart twist. She rushes to the kitchen and comes back with some ice wrapped in a paper towel. I grab it reluctantly, and press it against my aching meat.
Acacia hesitantly sits near me, making sure a whole couch cushion is between us. I swallow, trying not to think about the ruined moment between us.