Forty-Six
forty-six
SUFFOCATE - J. HOLIDAY
OWEN - JULY 26, 2013
T he warmth of her body pressed against mine last night was a comfort I didn’t know I was missing until it was there. Lying here, wrapped in each other felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of us, a safe haven where nothing else mattered. I hadn’t realized how deeply I craved that connection until it happened—the soft sound of our breathing fell into sync, filling the silence between us. It was more than just physical closeness—it was a deep, unspoken understanding, a wordless promise that we were exactly where we were meant to be.
Despite the temptation, I resisted burying myself in her last night. The way she looked at me, her eyes full of lust and longing, was almost too much. I could feel the heat between us, the way her body responded to mine, and it took all of my self-control to prevent things from going any further. However, knowing how much she desires me—seeing the arousal mirrored in her green eyes—only intensifies the heat. I have never experienced such a powerful connection with a woman as I do with Callie.
Curled up with her this morning, I remind myself why I set this ridiculous three-date rule in the first place—because I’m looking for something real. But I already know the connection with Callie is real, and the temptation to break my own rule is at an all-time high. I know to some, three dates might not seem like that long to wait, but when I am with Callie, something almost primal stirs in me, and I am not sure how much longer I can hold back.
Callie is still asleep when she rolls over to face me, and I adjust myself quickly, praying I don’t wake her up before wrapping my arms around her and pulling her close. I lay like that with her for a bit, taking in her beauty and wishing we could stay like this forever. She is absolutely breathtaking. I can’t help it when a small chuckle escapes after I feel a small kick from her belly hit my stomach. I felt the baby kick for the first time last night when my arm was wrapped around her as she slept. I won’t bring it up because I don’t want her to feel self-conscious. For now, this is just a moment for me and the baby, whose life I can only hope to be a part of.
It’s insane, really. We’ve only just started dating but I cannot help thinking about my future with her and what having a family with her would be like.
Callie wakes a short time later and tells me that she’s going to give her mom a call to let her know she will be staying with me, cracking a joke about possibly sending her mom a picture of my driver’s license “just in case.” When she tells me not to panic if I overhear her calling me her boyfriend, I can’t help but smile. We haven’t put a label on things yet, but I think it’s safe to say after everything that’s happened recently, I am hers, and I certainly hope she is mine.
I can tell she is nervous about how I’d react to her labeling me as her boyfriend—like she expects me to bolt. But the truth is, I’d be fine with her calling me just about anything at this point. Hell, she could call me “Daddy,” and I probably wouldn’t bat an eye.
Now there’s a thought…
And with that, I think now might be a good time to take a cold shower and give her some privacy so she can talk to her mother.
Callie and I head to a small cafe for lunch, and her silence makes me a bit nervous. I wonder if I did something that could have upset her or if something happened when she was on the phone with her mother earlier. She is picking at her Caesar salad, barely touching the grilled chicken on top. She’s never been distant like this with me. I reach over, touching her hand to get her attention. “Hey, what’s on your mind?”
She looks up at me with a faint smile. “Just a little anxious about tonight.”
I let out a sigh of relief, selfishly grateful that she isn’t upset over something that I did or said. “Meeting my family?” I guess. She nods, and I give her hand a reassuring squeeze. “They’re going to love you.”
“What if they don’t?” she says, a nervous laugh escaping her as she jabs at a crouton with her fork. “I mean, meeting them for the first time while I’m six months pregnant? It’s a lot. What if they think?—”
“First of all, it doesn’t matter what they think. Second, you are beautiful and smart and snarky and perfect.”
“Far from it,” she mumbles, her voice soft. She’s avoiding my eyes and looking down at her plate .
“Perfect for me,” I say softly, reaching out to tip her chin up to meet my eyes. “And yes, you happen to be pregnant. But that’s just part of your story, not the whole of who you are. They will see that you’re so much more than that—how funny you are, how strong,” I pause, wanting her to see the truth in my words. “If it would make you more comfortable, I can call my cousin Vince and ask him to let everyone know ahead of time. Just say the word.”
She shakes her head quickly. “No, don’t do that. I still think seeing their reactions and trying to figure everything out will be funny. You know me: ChaosCallie and all that. I’m just still worried about what they will think.”
I want to do whatever I can to make this easier for her, but I also want to respect her choice. I lean over the table to kiss her forehead to remind her I’m here for her—no matter what.
As we step into the pub, I can feel the tension in my shoulders melt away. This place feels like a portal to another time, with its rich, dark wood paneling that seems to deepen the warmth of the space, and the ornate tin ceiling tiles that gleam softly above us. The centerpiece of it all is the back bar—a towering, intricately carved masterpiece that commands attention the moment you walk in. Originally crafted in Belgium and brought over a century ago, the bar has a history as rich as its design.
The low light makes the bottles on the glass shelves shimmer like precious gems, casting a warm amber hue. The ambiance here is both high-end and inviting, exuding sophistication without being pretentious. It’s a place where you can relax in a luxurious leather seat, enjoy a perfectly made cocktail, and feel you’re treating yourself with no pretense. The atmosphere embraces you like a comforting, intimate gesture, urging you to unwind and relish the moment. For those seeking a more formal setting, there’s a room tucked away from the ornate bar area, where elegant seating and a quieter, more refined atmosphere invite deeper conversation and a touch of privacy.
Callie walks beside me, her hand resting in mine, and I can’t help but notice how well she fits with me. She moves with a quiet confidence that I find incredibly attractive. Her dark brown hair cascades in loose curls pulled over her left shoulder, and she’s wearing a black-and-white striped maxi dress that shows off her ample chest in the best possible way. It hugs her curves in all the right places, making her look even more effortlessly beautiful. I feel a surge of pride just having her on my arm, and the realization hits me:
She’s mine now.
As we make our way through the crowd, I spot Vince near the end of the bar. He’s leaning against the counter with a beer in hand, talking to his brother Malcolm and Malcolm’s wife, Valerie. Zoe’s there too, perched on a barstool. I wasn’t sure she’d be here tonight considering the attitude she typically gives Vince about these things, but it looks like she might be in a good mood tonight. When Vince catches sight of us, his face lights up.
“There they are!” he calls out, raising his glass in greeting.
We head over, and the introductions start. I can feel the curious eyes on us–more specifically, on Callie. Vince pinches his lips together, trying to bite back a smile. Looks like he didn’t even tell Zoe. This is almost too much fun. Callie seems to be getting a kick out of it, too.
A bit further down, more of my cousins huddle together, including Vicki and her brother Joel, along with his wife Julia. My cousin Bruce sits alone at a video gambling machine, oblivious to anything happening around him. Pretty sure he only showed up because he’s hoping someone will cover his bar tab.
Aside from Bruce, it’s apparent that everyone is trying to figure out what’s going on without coming right out and asking. For now, everyone’s being polite, holding back their questions, but I can sense the anticipation building. I can’t help but relish in the chaos. I know it’s only a matter of time before someone brings up the obvious. Especially since they are all drinking already.
Vince gives Callie a warm handshake, Zoe pulls her into a quick, awkward hug, and Malcolm offers a nod of approval. Valerie is sweet, complimenting Callie’s dress, and I can see Callie relax a little more with each interaction. It’s going well. Better than I expected, honestly.
The evening unfolds with the usual banter and catching up. The place fills with the sound of laughter and clinking glasses, and Callie seems to blend right in. She’s talking with Valerie and even Zoe like they’re old friends, and I catch Malcolm giving me a subtle thumbs-up when she’s not looking. It’s all going great, but I can still feel the uncertainty from the surrounding people continuing to dance around the question.
Will and Luke arrive later, with Heather in tow, and the dynamic within the group shifts instantly. Luke’s presence is like a spark, igniting the atmosphere with his infectious energy. Within seconds, he’s cracking jokes, his voice carrying a playful edge that draws everyone in. Heather, bless her, does her best to keep up with Luke’s rapid-fire humor. She laughs along, her smile genuine, even when it’s clear she’s not entirely sure she gets the joke. It’s clear she wants to belong, and in her own way, she’s already becoming a part of our little circle, her presence softening the edges of Luke’s wild humor.
Just as I think we might make it through the night without anyone asking, Vicki orders a shot of tequila, downs it with a quick gulp, and turns back to face Callie and me. She’s a spitfire–petite, with white-blonde curls that barely brush her shoulders, and a personality that’s about ten times her size. I’m honestly shocked she hasn’t already inquired about the baby, considering her lack of subtlety. But I know we’re in for it now because Vicki and tequila are a hell of a combination.
“So,” she says, her voice cutting through the noise like a knife through butter. “Are we going to ignore the baby in the bar, or are you going to fill us in?”
And there it is.
Callie freezes, her eyes wide with surprise and amusement, before we both erupt into uncontrollable laughter. It’s the kind of laughter that doubles you over, making it hard to catch your breath. Vince, Will, and Luke join in as if on cue, their laughter filling the room and bouncing off the walls. The sound of a sharp thwap cuts through the chaos as the back of Zoe’s hand smacks against Vince’s chest, followed by a whispered but clearly exasperated, “You knew about this?!” Her incredulous tone only fuels the hilarity, and we all dissolve into another round of laughter, my sides aching as tears fill my eyes.
The tension from earlier vanishes, replaced by a shared moment of pure, unfiltered joy that draws us all closer together.I slide my arm around Callie and pull her close, a reassuring gesture to ease her tension. She leans into me, and I press a soft kiss to her temple, letting my lips linger there for a moment as I start to rub soothing circles on her lower back.
“We met when she was already pregnant,” I say with an easy smile, trying to keep things simple. But there’s a part of me that wants to say more, to tell Vicki that Callie’s piece-of- shit ex cheated on her when she was still early in her pregnancy, leaving her to navigate everything on her own. The thought burns me up inside, but I remind myself that it’s not my story to tell, not here, not now. Instead, I add a playful twist, trying to steer the conversation toward lighter ground. “But I’m taking full credit for all the dad jokes in this kid’s future.” The playful remark earns a few chuckles, and I can feel Callie relax a little more against me, the tension slowly melting away as the moment passes.
For a split second, everyone just stares. Well, everyone except the guys who still can’t stop snickering. Then Joel, who’s been quiet all night, starts to laugh. It’s a big, booming laugh that seems to break the tension like a dam bursting. “Well, that clears things up!” he says, lifting his beer in a toast. The rest of the group follows suit, laughter erupting around us, and just like that, the awkward moment is gone.
“Leave it to you, Owen, to keep us all guessing,” Malcolm says with a grin, shaking his head in mock exasperation. “You’ve always been the prankster of the family, but I gotta say, this one takes the cake.”
I can’t help but chuckle, especially with the sound of Callie’s laughter bubbling up beside me. She’s trying to stifle her giggles, but it’s a losing battle, and the way her eyes light up with amusement makes my heart do a little flip. “Hey, someone’s gotta keep things interesting,” I reply with a playful wink, tightening my arm around her and giving her upper ribs a gentle squeeze. “Besides, what’s life without a little suspense?”
Malcolm shakes his head, still grinning. “Suspense? More like you just like watching us all scramble to keep up with whatever twist you’re throwing our way.”
I laugh, leaning in closer to Callie, who’s practically doubled over at this point. “What can I say? I like to keep you guys on your toes. Gotta make sure the family gatherings are never boring, right?”
Callie’s pregnancy quickly becomes just another topic of conversation, woven seamlessly into the night’s banter. It’s amazing how quickly my family has shifted gears, treating Callie like she’s been a part of the group forever. I watch her as she chats with Valerie, Zoe, and Vicki, her hand occasionally drifting to rest on her belly by instinct every time she talks about the baby. It’s a small gesture, but one that makes me feel a surge of protectiveness and pride.
At one point, Luke starts in on a completely ridiculous debate about who is going to teach the baby how to fish.
I can’t help but laugh. “Luke, the last time we went fishing at Darling, you damn near threw your pole into the lake.”
“That was an off day,” he insists, waving me off.
Heather, who’s been giggling beside him, finally speaks up. “The only thing you caught that day was a cold.”
Luke groans, but the rest of us are falling over ourselves with laughter. “Fine, fine,” he concedes, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “I’ll let Owen handle the fishing lessons. But I still get to be the cool uncle.”
I can’t help but wonder if all this is making Callie feel like things are moving too fast, but she doesn’t miss a beat. “The very coolest,” she promises.
I realize that hearing Luke welcome Callie into the family is promising. I’m hoping that he will put in a good word for us with Beverly and Dad when I eventually introduce Callie to them as well.
The night continues with more of the same–laughter, teasing, and stories being passed around like we’re all old friends. And as I watch Callie laugh and joke with my family, I can’t shake the feeling that she’s always belonged here.
As we step into my apartment, the air seems to shift, like the space itself has been waiting for us. Callie pauses just inside, her hand lingering on the wall as she takes in the room, removing her shoes after the long day we’ve had together. There’s a softness in her green eyes, a quietness that matches the gentle lighting.
“Your place feels...different tonight,” she says after a moment, her voice low and thoughtful, almost as if she’s speaking to herself.
I watch her as she moves deeper into the room, her fingers brushing lightly over the back of the couch, trailing along the edge of the kitchen counter. She stops and turns to look at me, and there’s something different in her expression—something tender, almost reverent.
“How so?” I ask, curious about what she’s thinking, my gaze never leaving her.
She turns to me, a gentle smile touching her lips. “I’m not sure what it is exactly. But being with you just feels like home,” she says simply. There’s a depth to her words that tugs at something inside me. Callie walks back toward me, her bare feet padding softly across the floor, and reaches out to touch my arm, her fingers light but reassuring.
That one simple touch sends warmth through me, and I can’t help but smile back at her. I feel a sense of peace settle over me that I didn’t know I needed.
I walk over to my computer and turn the music on. I reach out, taking her hand in mine, and without a word, we sway to the music, her head resting on my chest.
The first notes of “Suffocate” by J. Holiday fill the room, the sultry, slow rhythm wrapping around us like a warm embrace. Callie’s eyes light up, and she steps closer, her hands finding their way to my shoulders.
“You know,” she says with a teasing smile, “my great-grandmother always used to say, ‘Life’s too short to dance with ugly men.’”
I chuckle, resting my hands on her hips and pulling her closer. “Good thing you don’t have to worry about that tonight,” I tease, leaning in just enough that our noses brush.
She laughs, the sound low and soft, sending a shiver down my spine. “No, I don’t,” she agrees, her voice dropping to a whisper.
“Dance with me?” I ask as her hand brushes across the back of my head just above my neck, my recently buzzed hair tickling her fingertips. She smiles, pulling me closer to her until the only space between us is the area just above her belly.
As we dance to the rhythm, her head lies against my chest, her breath warming my neck, her soft body gently pressing against mine. Every touch, every small movement feels like a promise, an unspoken declaration of everything we’ve been feeling but haven’t yet put into words. It’s a simple thing, dancing like this, but it’s filled with a depth that makes my heart ache in the best possible way.
The music swells around us, the lyrics and melody creating a cocoon that makes the world outside disappear. I close my eyes, letting myself get lost in the moment, in the feel of her in my arms, in the way our bodies move together. It’s like everything else fades away, leaving just us here, in this perfect, shared space.
As I hold her close, her heartbeat steady against my chest, a realization settles deep within me, like a truth that’s been waiting to be acknowledged. The thought comes so naturally, so effortlessly, that I wonder if it’s been there all along, just waiting for me to notice.
There is no doubt in my mind.
I am madly in love with this woman.
As if she can sense my thoughts, she pulls me down for a kiss. I hold her a little tighter, my heart torn between wanting to tell her and wanting to protect this perfect moment we’re sharing. I don’t know when or how I’ll say it, but one thing is certain: Tonight, I’m going to show her exactly how much she means to me.
We continue to dance, the tension between us simmering just beneath the surface, building with every step, every brush of our bodies. There’s a heat between us, a connection that feels almost tangible, and I know we’re both feeling it—the pull, the need that’s been growing stronger all night.
The song ends, fading into the background, but we don’t stop moving. I pull back just enough to look into her eyes, and the intensity there nearly takes my breath away. There’s desire in her gaze, yes, but also something deeper, something that makes my heart pound in my chest.
“I need you, Callie,” I say, my voice rough with the weight of everything I’m feeling.
Her eyes soften, and she reaches up to cup my face in her hands, her touch gentle but sure. “Then take me, Owen,” she whispers, her voice steady despite the tremble in her hands. “I want this, I want you. So fucking bad.”
I wrap my arms around her waist, capturing her lips in a slow but intense kiss, pouring all the emotions into that one connection.
Electric. Addictive. Consuming.
Without breaking our kiss, I slide my hands down lower, wrapping them behind her thighs and picking her up quickly before she has the opportunity to object. As I settle my hands on her ass while she holds onto me a bit tighter, I can sense the hesitancy in her grasp. I pull back from our kiss with a silent check-in, trying to determine the cause of her hesitation.
Is she self conscious or is she having second thoughts? Her grip tightens around the back of my neck and I can see now that she’s scared I’m going to drop her. “Don’t worry, Kitty. I’ve got you.”
With Callie secure in my arms, our lips find each other again, the kiss deepening with every step I take toward my bedroom. The room around us fades into a blur, the only thing that matters is the feeling of her mouth on mine, the way our bodies press together. The gentle sway of our movements only heightens the intensity between us, each kiss a promise, each touch a reassurance.
When we reach the bed, I lay her down gently, and for a moment, I just look at her. The way her hair fans out across the pillow, the way her chest rises and falls with each breath, the way she looks up at me with those eyes that seem to see right through to my soul—it’s almost too much. But I don’t look away. I can’t. She’s mesmerizing, and I want to memorize every inch of her, every curve, every detail.
I help her slip out of her dress, revealing the white thong and–FUCK–no bra.
This. Fucking. Girl.
“You just had to go and make the temptation that much harder to resist, huh?” I tease. She smiles and nods slowly as I lower myself onto the bed beside her, my dick pulses with desire.
Callie’s eyes lock on mine, filled with a trust and longing that makes my pulse race. Every part of me yearns to touch her, to show her how much she means to me. I’m acutely aware of the need to be gentle and careful of the life growing within her. In this moment, she is the embodiment of a goddess, a vision of strength and beauty that has me in awe.
“What can I say?” she taunts. “I’m in the mood for some of that cinnamon you’ve been hiding from me.”
I let my hands roam over her, mapping out every curve, feeling the warmth of her skin under my fingertips. But I’m mindful, cautious, as I move closer. My touch lingers just above her belly, my palm brushing lightly against the curve, and I pause meeting her gaze and making sure that me touching her belly in such an intimate way isn’t too much for her. The last thing that I want to do right now is make her uncomfortable.
“You are so stunning, Callie.”
She lets out a soft hum as I trail kisses down her stomach and run my hand up her leg from her knee to the apex of her thigh. I want to show her with every moment just how much I want this–want her. Need her. Love her.
Even though it feels like this is all happening really fast, I don’t care. At this moment, I know what I want. And it’s her. It will always be her.
“I cannot believe you’re finally mine,” I say as I reach my hand to cup her face and place a soft kiss on her lips. She doesn’t say anything for a long moment but she doesn’t have to. Her sharp intake of breath tells me that she feels the connection too. She must know this is something far beyond anything either of us has ever felt before.
I don’t rush. Each touch lingers, her body responding to me in ways that nearly undo my control. A soft gasp escapes her lips as I tease her, bringing her to the brink, where even I am struggling to maintain control. I slip her thong to the side and glide my fingers over her clit, eliciting a soft moan from her as I prop myself up just enough to turn her toward me. The moment our eyes meet, I lower my mouth to her breast, pulling her nipple between my lips, savoring the way she arches into me.
Every moment feels like a careful dance between caution and desire, an exquisite tension building between us. My cock throbs against her leg, the ache nearly unbearable, but I focus on her, on the way her hands clutch my shoulders, her nails digging in slightly as I quicken the rhythm of my hand. I slip two fingers inside her, feeling her warmth envelop me, and it takes everything in me not to lose myself completely.
I pause for a brief moment, just to breathe her in. The scent of her skin, the intoxicating fragrance of her arousal—it pulls something primal and raw from deep within me, something that demands to be unleashed.
I crave her.
She is perfection.
And so fucking mine.