20. Calliope
Calliope
“I get you to myself all day.” The first words Soren says to me as I climb into his car. “I was thinking we order in for lunch. Maybe have a small picnic in the office.”
I wrinkle my nose at that.
“Courtyard?” He suggests instead.
“Soren.” I blink at him. “It’s not quite eight in the morning, you see this coffee cup?” I point to my fancy ceramic coffee cup. “It’s full, do you understand what I’m trying to say?”
“That you haven’t drunk your coffee yet?” he cheekily replies as he pulls away.
“No, Soren.” I sip. “It means shut the fuck up until it’s empty.”
“I’m not so sure you are a morning person.”
“You switch from nights to days and tell me how it goes for you.”
“Oh I have.” He side-eyes me. “For you actually.”
“What?” He best not be saying what I think he’s saying. “You never worked third. I never saw you.”
“That doesn’t mean I wasn’t there.”
I set my coffee down, careful not to spill a single precious drop.
“Explain.” The word comes out flat, demanding.
“There’s nothing to explain, Callie.” He turns toward the parking garage. “Sometimes I was there, sometimes I wasn’t, it’s that simple.”
“Bullshit.” I yawn. “What was your problem last week?” I choose to change the subject because my entire job was to make sure no one was in that museum at night, and here we are, him telling me he was there. But he wasn’t. He was never there.
“Ah.” He clears his throat. “Well. Lazarus dropped some information on me and I wasn’t sure how to handle it.”
“Badly,” I tell him. “You handled it badly.”
“I did not.” He sounds so affronted.
“You did, you didn’t even open my door.” So dumb. Still under my skin.
“Well then, let me make up for it now.” He parks and gets out moving to my side of the car before my hand is on the handle. “After you.”
“Now you’re being a smartass.”
“Well what is it, Calliope. Smart-assery or gentleman-ery?” Why is he smiling like that? “Can’t have it both ways.”
“Still talking, Soren.” I unfold myself from the car and stretch a little before I gather my things to follow him inside. “Yappy man.”
“I’m offended.” His hand settles on my lower back.
It’s so natural, so comforting that I pause right there in the parking garage and turn to him. “Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Touch me, guide me. It’s…”
“Gentlemanly.”
“Ugh.” I stomp off. “You’re impossible.”
“I’m absolutely possible,” he catches up to me. “If you’d let me be possible.”
I angrily swipe my key card.
“Package deal,” I mutter under my breath, breathing in the icy cold air of the Penn.
“Upstairs today.” He leads me toward the elevators. I prefer the archives, but Lazarus has me as their assistant. So I go where they tell me.
“Know what I can’t piece together,” I say pressing the arrow again like it’s going to do anything. It won’t. “How Vex fits into you three.” I begin to tap my foot.
“I thought Lazarus explained the package.” He wags his brows.
“No, he explained you.” Is my face red? Can anyone hear this conversation? “Not Vex.”
The elevator doors open thankfully, and I stomp my tired ass inside.
“Wildcard.” Soren follows me in and stands at the back. Behind me. It makes my neck itch.
I just don’t know what emotion belongs to that neck itch. Off-putting? Arousal? Irritation? I haven’t a clue.
Vex is a wildcard. But it isn’t an answer.
“Calliope.” I feel Soren step up behind me, his heat presses against my back. His presence feels like a heat wave in the summer. I can’t ignore it. Especially in a box this small. He’s inevitable like the sun.
“Soren.” Is my voice breathy?
I feel him inhale more than I see him inhale.
“Are you breathing me in?” I don’t dare move as the floors kick up to the next.
“You smell good.” He reaches around me and stops the fucking elevator.
“Soren,” I chide, turning around right into him. Oh. He’s right there.
“See this is what I wanted.” He gently grabs my coffee and carefully sets it down never once looking away from me.
“What are you doing?” And why can’t I move. I’m frozen to his entire existence.
But I’m not scared or fearful. I’m… excited.
“This.” His hands are in my hair the next moment and his lips on mine with the next breath.
I’m shocked, confused and all of the things all at once. But most of all? I lean into the kiss. Because he kisses me as though he’s savoring me.
His lips press to mine so fucking gently that I nearly weep with wanting. And when he moves his lips it’s with each movement thought out. Careful. Maybe not controlled but careful.
I lean into him, grip his coat and drag him closer. I’m not gentle about it, and he doesn’t want me to be. When our bodies smack together he lets out a little grunt that hits me low and urgent, like a match to a dry field.
I feel the entire rigid length of him pressing against me. His thigh brackets between mine, his hands tightening on my waist like he thinks I might vanish.
He holds onto me like I may disappear and it’s appealing.
His mouth turns hotter, more demanding, and I answer with enough force to surprise myself.
I’m kissing Soren.
Soren, who has never once let his guard down long enough for me to see what lives behind those brown eyes.
Now I know.
Hunger. Need. So much of both that I can barely keep up.
I’ve never let him see me either, but that feels like a problem for another day.
Right now, I want more.
One kiss, and I’m already ruined.
The elevator hums around us, forgotten. My hands slide to the back of his neck and into the soft hair curling there. I pull him closer.
He makes a low sound against my mouth, almost a growl, and his hand travels from my waist to my back. His palm moves slowly up my spine, careful even while the rest of him feels anything but.
I press myself against him and feel his heart pounding beneath his coat.
He’s as wrecked as I am.
That realization goes straight through me.
The kiss keeps going. I lose track of everything except his mouth. The scrape of his teeth against my lower lip. The way his tongue moves against mine. The shudder that runs through me every time he pulls me closer.
For once, I stop thinking.
I let myself want him.
Soren lifts me just enough that my feet leave the floor. A startled sound escapes me, half gasp, half laugh, before my back meets the elevator wall.
One of his hands braces above my head.
There’s something wild in the way he kisses me now, but he’s still careful. Like he’s been waiting too long for this and refuses to do anything that might make me pull away.
I don’t.
I give him everything I have.
My hands tremble in his hair. My knees feel unreliable, and his body is the only thing keeping me upright.
When we finally pull apart, I can’t catch my breath.
His pupils are blown wide, and his lips are swollen from mine.
“You stopped the elevator,” I whisper, my voice hoarse.
“Best decision I’ve made this year,” he says, still close enough that his breath tickles my lips.
“Someone might notice.”
“Let them.” His thumb traces my lower lip. “Worth it.”
My heart hammers against my ribs. I should wiggle free. Push the button back in to end this moment, and yet I’m not sure I want to. Once again with one of these men, I’m lost in them.
“We should...” I gesture vaguely.
“Continue this later?” He smiles that devastating smile.
“Get to work,” I finish, though my body screams in protest as I wiggle down and fix myself. My thighs are soaked. My hair is a mess and my lips feel swollen.
Soren reaches behind me to restart the elevator but doesn’t step back. We remain locked in our bubble as the car resumes its ascent.
“You know,” he says casually, as if we weren’t just making out, “I’ve wanted to do that since the first time I saw you.”
“When did you first see me?” I grab my coffee just as the elevator is about to reach our floor.
“That would give away all my secrets.” He steps up to stand beside me. He leans down inhaling my hair and whispers, “I plan to do that again before the end of the day.” He pauses as though he has to think about it. “A dozen times.”
I hide my laugh. “A dozen.” Dare I turn to him? I dare. “We won’t get any work done.”
There we are in the elevator, heads leaning in close, a smile on both our lips. He glances to mine again and excitement hums in my veins.
A throat clears.
“Lazarus,” Soren says before slowly turning to the door.
How did he know?
“I need you two.” He steps into the elevator and presses the button for the archives.
“So…” I draw the word out as Lazarus steps between us. “Not the regular offices.”
“No.” He glances down at me then at Soren. “What happened between you two.”
“Nothing,” I rush out.
“Made out in the elevator.”
“Soren.” I gasp glaring at him. It’s one thing to talk about the package deal but a whole other thing to witness it firsthand.
“What?” Soren glances at me from around Lazarus. “I would have told him anyway.”
“In detail.” Lazarus grunts, his feet shifting side to side.
I hide behind my hands. “I hope the cables break.”
“Callie.”
“Calliope.”
Now they’re both staring at me horrified. See what happens when you let the internal thoughts out. Judgment. “Not seriously.” I wave my hands around. “It’s just this!”
Lazarus now stops the elevator.
“See!” What is he doing?
“Would it be easier if I kissed you as well?” Lazarus slowly turns around and now I have two men staring at me with hungry expressions and honestly I wasn’t built for this.
I open and close my mouth. “I only kissed Soren.”
“You let Vex give you an orgasm,” Soren points out before turning to Lazarus. “That’s my goal before the day is out.”
Wait. How does he even know about that? Vex. No secrets between them, apparently. Noted. Filed. “Turn the elevator back on.” I’m still hiding. But I peek at them through my fingertips.
“So you don’t want to kiss me?” Lazarus asks, seriously unsure.
“After our date that you have to set up.” Oh my gods I’m negotiating kisses.
“I accept.” He turns the elevator on.
“What did you need us for?” I breathe a little easier. One guy in one elevator I can handle. Two I’m not so sure.
“I’ve had a breakthrough with the translations.” Lazarus eyes Soren.
Soren who looks even more amused. “Did you.” He turns to him fully. “What did you learn?”
Lazarus glances at me for a moment and I swear there is something going on between them. A silent conversation I don’t exist in. They have such a strange relationship. It’s not a friendship. Friends aren’t this close.
Or maybe they are and I’m being a judgy bitch.
“Yes.” Lazarus turns to me. “I’ve deciphered a,” he pauses glancing back at Soren. “Word.” He draws it out.
“What word?” I ask now that the thrill of the job is ahead of all the kissing. This I can anchor onto. This I can toss myself into headfirst.
Lazarus answers. “Bride.”