Calliope
The thing about dreams is that they reflect back to us the little cracks in our armor that aren’t little by any means but are massive. Huge. Big functioning cracks.
So waking inside of a dream where multiple men meander around my apartment shirtless doing tasks, I realize the crack in my armor yesterday was huge. Lazarus fixing my closet door. Soren making breakfast. And Vex hammering something…
I’m not strong enough to resist the temptation. Which means I rip myself awake and right into sleep inertia before the dream turns into a bad porno.
Everything spins as I sit up slowly, blinking away the dream that lingers at the back of my consciousness like a nightmare.
Clearly thinking of all three of them in one romantic way or another is getting under my skin.
Bang-bang-bang.
“I swear if that’s a fucking hammer.” I stumble upright, using my palm on the wall as I guide myself out of my bedroom and toward the banging.
The microwave blinks five in the morning. I don’t even need to be awake for another two hours. That is a whole-ass sleep cycle. More dreams of three sexy well-put-together men. Except Vex. He’s a fucking wildcard I can’t quite put my finger on. Yet.
Bang-bang-bang.
“Fucking Vex.” I swing open my door and peer across the hall.
Bang-bang-bang.
“I’m going to murder him.” His door is already open.
I walk into his living room. A completely renovated living room. Surrounded by sheets of plastic.
A hammer clatters to the floor, the sheets move and then there is Vex. Smiling at me with that wide disturbing grin.
“Morning.” His eyes darken as they take me in. Rolling from my bed head to my pink-painted toes then back up again.
I’m wearing a sleep set. One of those cheap ones from a big box store. There’s nothing special about them. Nothing at all. And yet Vex looks at me like they’re lace and dinner.
Not only that but he’s shirtless. His jeans riding low on his hips. And my gods he’s built to look at. Every defined inch of him calls to me like water after walking for years in a desert.
“Nope.” I turn around and stumble right back into my own apartment and straight for the kitchen.
“Too loud?” He’s too fucking close.
I barely stop the squeal as he steps up to my back. My hands are on my coffee and my carafe. And I’m frozen in place at the corner of my counter, Vex pressed against my back.
And awake. Completely awake.
“I didn’t invite you in.” Do I put the coffee down or wield it between us like a weapon.
He inhales me slowly, right beside my ear.
It’s not my fault my whole body shudders. Or my fault at the way my eyes close.
Maybe I’m still dreaming? It is a possibility. I have been known to sleepwalk under complete duress. This is it. This is that complete duress.
“Door was open.” He is right at my ear. He smells like plaster and paint.
“My car?” I squeak. Still frozen.
Still holding my coffee parts.
“At the shop.”
“You should take me to her.”
“You gonna wear strawberry shortcake there?” He leans over me, his lips brushing my ear. “Because I got to admit, any man seeing you in this set might have to die.”
That should not be as hot as it is.
I need to get out of this situation as fast as humanly possible. Just set the coffee parts down. Duck under him. Run if you have to. Play dirty. You love beating up men with your baton.
Where is that bitch now?
In heat.
“Some girls may find that statement worthy of a PFA.” I set the coffee pot down. But not because I’m going to turn around, oh no.
I’m in this out of spite now. I’m gonna make my damn coffee. Even though Vex is waking me up faster than any cup of coffee could. And he’s holding himself back from touching me. Not one part of him is touching me.
And it is kind of pissing me off. I mean if you’re going to make a move go all in. But also the not all in is telling too.
I turn the sink on to fill the pot.
“I get the feeling you won’t be filing a PFA.”
I snort and pour my water in the well. “And you, Vex, would see that PFA as a challenge.”
This man brushes the hair off my shoulder. “Accepted.”
“It wasn’t a challenge.” One scoop then two. You’ve got this.
My thighs are pressed together. My body is alive in a way it’s never been in his presence, and I swear my hamster brain is screaming to mate.
Coffee, focus on the coffee. I stab the power button. My finger trembles and I have to curl it back into a fist.
Vex breathes against my neck. My god that feels so fucking good. And he doesn’t touch me. Not as the machine gurgles to life. And not as the scent of coffee fills the kitchen.
“Your hair smells like strawberries,” he murmurs. “Makes a man wonder what else tastes like that.”
I knew I shouldn’t have deviated from my usual lavender.
“I should knee you in the balls for that comment.” But my voice comes out breathier than usual. Which means my threat means nothing.
“Probably.” His lips hover just above my skin now. “But you won’t.”
“It’s only been days,” I whisper. Hell it could be longer than that. Some days time feels like a suggestion. “You’ve known me for days and you think you can just—”
“I’ve known you two weeks, and I’ve thought about you every minute of them.” His hand finally makes contact. Just his thumb tracing along my shoulder blade. But I feel him everywhere. “That’s 20,160 minutes, in case you’re wondering.”
My knees weaken. “You counted?”
“Didn’t have to. You’re kind of unforgettable, even in your ratty strawberry pajamas.”
I spin around to face him, coffee forgotten. “They’re not ratty!”
Vex smiles down at me. He’s close enough that I could count his eyelashes if I wanted to. Close enough that I can see he has one, just one mole on his face. Close enough I can see how sculpted said face is, as though Michelangelo crafted this man with his own two hands.
And he’s still shirtless.
“You said that on purpose.”
“Of course I did.” How is he in control right now? His hands bracket me as he holds onto the counter. And those dark eyes watch me carefully.
They’ve got this sexy quality to them. Like he’s looking at me half lidded.
“I want you to know,” he says, his voice low and rough like gravel, “that I’m fighting every instinct I own right now.”
My heart hammers against my ribs. “What instincts?”
Vex’s jaw tightens. “To pick you up, set you on the counter, and find out if you taste like a shortcake.”
Heat floods my entire body. The strawberry pajamas suddenly feel ten degrees warmer. “That’s... presumptuous.”
“Been called worse.” He doesn’t move away. Doesn’t move closer. Just stays there, a wall of muscle and temptation, watching me with those dark eyes.
“Are you always this forward with women?” I ask, digging my nails into my palms. Otherwise I’m going to touch his chest and his biceps are distracting. So, so distracting.
“Woman,” he corrects. “Only you, Calliope.”
My heart thunders in my chest as I stare at him.
His eyes dip to my lips. Then back up.
He’s going to kiss me.
Do I want him to kiss me? Or do I want to hide in my bathroom and take care of the overwhelming desire that continues to threaten to bring me to my knees.
No, no. I absolutely want him to kiss me.
“Vex, I—”
“Don’t.” His voice is barely audible. “Don’t say anything that’ll make me walk away. Not yet.”
The air between us feels charged, electric almost. My body hums with awareness of every inch of him. The way his chest rises and falls with each breath. The slight flex in his forearms as he grips the counter. And especially the dark hunger in his eyes.
Hunger directed at me.
I’ve never had that kind of raw hunger directed at me and I’m not entirely sure I know what to do with it.
“My coffee’s getting cold,” I whisper, the lamest excuse in human history.
Something shifts in his expression. Amusement, maybe, or resignation. “Drink it.”
He doesn’t move, not an inch.
I have to turn around in the teeny-tiniest space he allows for and reach for my mug. While he stands behind me, watching and observing like a lion. The anticipation of him pouncing nearly has me panting in heat.
Would I even want him to pounce? What would I even do?
“You know what’s funny?” Vex asks, his breath tickling my ear again. He must be enjoying this.
And the fucked-up part? If I told him to leave. He would. I know it in my soul. Maybe that’s why I’m letting this continue to go on.
“What?” My voice comes out hoarse.
“Your door was actually open.” His smile is slow, dangerous. “Besides you walked into my apartment first, Calliope.”
Heat floods my face. “You’re renovating at five in the morning. That’s a crime against humanity.”
“The best crimes are.”
I pour my cup of coffee ignoring his answer as I try to put it somewhere that makes sense. But Vex doesn’t make sense. He’s just there. Never when I want him. Occasionally when I need him. At all the wrong times. And he makes me… he makes me…
Feel.
“Right before dawn,” I mutter pouring honey in my cup and a little oat creamer. “The best crimes occur before dawn.”
I sip my cup and turn around. I hold it like a barrier between us. But it’s flimsy at best. At worst I spill it down the front of me.
“Tell me, Callie, what crimes do you commit before dawn?”
I choke on my coffee.
“Those kinds of crimes.” He tsks under his breath. “I didn’t take you for—”
“A dreamer.” I cut him off with a cough. “Also I’ve been working the night shift for years. No crimes on my watch.”
“Until this morning.”
“What?” My face falls.
“It’s five in the morning, Callie. You came to yell at me.” He leans into my space again. “In those naughty little shorts. That’s a crime.”
I glance at my sleep set. Ratty I’ll agree to. Naughty? He’s out of his mind. “What?”
“You don’t get it do you?” He grabs my cup of coffee and sets it aside. “Let me show you.”
Why did that go straight to my clit.
For a moment I think he’s going to lift me up, he doesn’t. He doesn’t even lean back, no he now owns the three feet of space around me.