Chapter 26
Roxanne
I’m standing in my kitchen, wine glass in hand, when there is a knock on my front door.
Instead of rushing towards it, I just stare at the wooden varnish, knowing damn well who is standing on the other side of it. There is only one person who refuses to use the bell, preferring a playful knock to announce his arrival.
Ten days.
That’s all Caleb could withstand.
Logic and self-preservation shout in my head not to open the door—that I’m not ready to face what is on the other side—but apparently, I’ve become deaf to their reasoning since I find myself hurriedly walking towards it, like a moth attracted by a flame.
After a quick glance at the mirror in the entry hall, I take a deep breath and unlock the door. When I open it, I’m not one bit surprised to be met with a mischievous grin on Caleb’s face.
“I’m not here,” he says, his green eyes full of flirtatious mirth.
“That’s good,” I reply, “because if you were, then I would have to remind you that showing up at my house uninvited is unacceptable.”
“Then it’s a good thing that I’m not here.” He smirks with a wink before bypassing me altogether and walking into my sacred space.
I take another fortifying breath and close the door behind him, despising my weakness for him. I should have told him to go away, but no. Now, he’s standing right at the center of my living room, looking at me like a predator looking at its prey.
“What do you want, Caleb?” I ask, picking up the glass of wine to have something to do with my hands.
“I thought it was about time that we talked.” He smiles widely, plopping himself on the couch and spreading his arms on either side.
“Talk?”
“Yep.” He pops the ‘p’ at the end with a boyish charm. “Just talk.”
“I would assume you’d be tired of hearing me talk in our sessions.”
“And you’d assume wrong,” he retorts with a serious tone. “I could listen to you talking for hours and never be tired of the sound of your voice.”
My throat goes dry at the intensity in his eyes, forcing me to drink the rest of my wine in one big gulp.
“Can I have some of that?” he asks, pointing at my empty glass.
“Sure. Give me a minute,” I reply, hurrying to the kitchen to fetch a clean glass. After I’ve poured some white wine into both glasses, I return to the living room, surprised to see that Caleb is once again on his feet, looking at the photographs on the mantle above my fireplace. I perch both glasses on the coffee table as he continues to inspect the old photos, which I haven’t had the heart to put away.
“Is this him? Your ex?” he asks after picking up a frame with a picture of Gregg and me together, skiing in Vermont.
“Ex would infer that we broke up or got divorced,” I reply evenly before taking the frame out of his hand and carefully placing it back on the mantle. “But if you’re asking if this is my late husband, then yes. That’s him.”
His brows furrow as he stares once again at the picture.
“You look happy,” he says, running a gentle finger through the picture.
“I was.”
“You also look like a kid.” He chuckles softly.
“Well, that’s because I was that too. I was barely twenty-two when that picture was taken.”
“Huh,” he muses.
“Huh? Are you surprised that I was young once?” I arch a brow.
“You’re young now, love,” he retorts, turning his back on all the photographs of my past.
“Hardly,” I rebuke. “Unfortunately, when you reach my age, society loves to remind you that you’re well past your prime.”
He tilts his head to the side, making no effort to hide how he salaciously scans me from top to toe.
“Society has it wrong. Because from where I’m standing, you’re more beautiful now than you ever were back then.”
My throat clogs again when I see the sincerity in his eyes, forcing me to turn my back on them in favor of grabbing the wine glass to chug its contents down.
“You don’t believe me, do you?” he asks behind me, the hairs behind the nape of my neck standing on end by his closeness.
“It shouldn’t bother you what I believe or cease to,” I mutter.
“But it does bother me,” he all but whispers in my ear, wreaking havoc on my senses. “It bothers me that you believe that the best is behind you,” he continues to whisper while brushing my hair onto my shoulder. A toe-curling sensation runs down my spine when I feel his warm breath touch my skin as his lips brush against my ear. “It’s not, Roxie. The best is still to come. With me.”
I swallow dryly while calmly turning around to face him, my chest slowly heaving at the sight of his eyes on mine.
“You’re far too exquisite to lock yourself away like this,” he continues, brushing my hair behind my ear. “It’s fucking mindboggling it’s lasted this long. What a waste. No… that’s not the right word. What a fucking tragedy.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, feeling my blood rush in every direction he touches.
“I mean,” he coos, running the pad of his thumb up and down the slope of my neck, “it’s a tragedy you haven’t allowed yourself to enjoy all that life has to give. All the many pleasures it can offer you.” I swallow again as his gaze lowers to my heaving chest. “And you deserve to feel pleasure. To feel like you’re the most beautiful woman to enter a room. To feel desired. Like I fucking desire you.”
“Caleb,” I whisper, not knowing what to say.
“I’m not here, remember?” he taunts, reminiscing about the little game we played at the underpass.
“But you are,” I moan, my head flinging back.
“No, I’m not. Right now, neither of us is here. Only two people who desperately hunger for each other—one that has forgotten how fucking incredible she is, and the other who desperately wants to make her remember.”
“Caleb,” I sigh.
“Fuck, I love hearing my name on your lips. It fucking does something to me.”
“It does?” I ask absentmindedly, as if in a fever-pitched dream.
“Let me show you.”
His lips hungrily fall on mine with such desperation that all I can do is mimic its force. My fingers thread themselves into his hair as his hands firmly cup my ass just so my body is firmly pressed against his. I sigh into his feverish kiss, losing all will to think logically and letting myself feel instead of think.
That’s all I seem to want to do nowadays.
All I want to do is feel.
Feel wanted.
Feel cherished.
Feel loved.
And only by him.
His kiss lights me up from inside, coaxing me to open my mouth and give his tongue entry so it can do its worst. We’re all lips, tongues, and teeth when I feel Caleb grab my waist and pull me up, my legs hugging his hips while he walks us to the couch. Now straddled on his lap, one of his hands grabs the back of my head so my lips never leave his.
And they don’t. They refuse to budge, even to breathe, needing his kiss more than oxygen.
My core clenches as it slides up and down his jean-clad girth, feeling an emptiness that only he can fill.
He pulls at my hair, breaking our kiss, his usually light-green eyes turning pitch black.
“Put me in your hand. I need to feel you,” he orders on a frantic breath.
With eyes still locked on each other, I begin to pull the zipper down of his black jeans, marveling how his cock grows harder without even touching it. I then pull down the fabric of his boxers, freeing his cock and marveling at how angry it looks to have been deprived of me for so long.
It’s only been a few days since we parted ways at the park, yet it feels like a lifetime ago.
My mouth waters at the bulging vein on its inseam, his crown already wet with need. To my surprise and his, I slide myself off his lap, placing my knees on the living room carpet and spreading his legs wider.
His Adam’s apple bobs as he watches my hand grab the base of his cock, and my tongue slithers up to its tip until my lips are fully circled around him. I swallow him down my throat, and an incoherent loud sound leaves Caleb’s lips. I close my eyes and just let myself enjoy how his velvety skin feels on the tip of my tongue.
I forgot how powerful this action could feel for a woman—even on her knees, fulfilling the dutiful, submissive role, it’s her lover who is truly at his most vulnerable.
“Fuck,” he grunts, his breathing coming out in spurts as I speed up my ministrations. It’s when I feel a pinch in my head that I realize Caleb is grabbing my hair and helping my mouth fuck him senseless.
“Look at me,” he growls, making my heavy lids lift in obedience.
With our gazes once again firmly fixed on each other, I keep swallowing him down until he can’t take it anymore.
“Fuck,” he roars, coming into my mouth.
I swallow him whole, licking his cum off my lips as if it were my favorite treat.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he grunts, like a man starved. “I’ve never wanted to fuck a woman more than I want to fuck you right now.”
He just came, so I doubt he’d be able to. But when Caleb pulls me up onto his lap, kissing me with such force, I can feel his cock once again hard, stabbing my stomach, leaving me more than impressed.
Instead of fucking me like he forewarned, I watch in confusion as he frantically shoves his hands into his pockets in search of something. His relief is immediate when he finds what he’s looking for, pulling out a condom wrapper and placing it in between his teeth.
I hold onto the wrapper and stop him from tearing it open.
“I’m on the pill,” I admit, his clenched jaw relaxing immediately.
“But I thought you said you weren’t on birth control.”
“I wasn’t,” I confess sheepishly, almost embarrassed for making the conscious decision to protect myself after not doing it for so long.
“Roxie,” he begins to say, his tone now gentle. “When did you go on the pill?”
“After we… after we first…”
“Slept together?” he finishes, to which I nod in confirmation.
The smile suddenly appearing on his face is so luminous that it’s blinding. My chest feels tight all of a sudden, as if the shimmer in his eyes is just too much for me to take.
“Thank you,” he says sweetly, as if implying that I’m on birth control because of him.
But aren’t I?
Wasn’t the reason I went to see my ob-gyn because, subconsciously, I wanted to be prepared if I slipped and slept with my patient again?
But instead of wallowing in that thought, fearing it will reveal too much, I lean down and kiss him .
Before long, we’re once again in the throes of passion, forgetting the world at our doorstep and only interested in what our bodies want to share. His fingers play with my clit, his mouth sucking on my nipple. It’s all too much and not nearly enough.
“Caleb,” I wail, needing him to put an end to my misery.
“Tell me,” he demands. “Tell me what you want.”
The words are right there on the tip of my tongue—the same ones I used that first night. I know they are the words he yearns to hear from me again, and as hard as I try to fight them, they come tumbling down my tongue with utter ease. “Fuck me.”
A throaty groan escapes him as he’s quick to position the head of his cock at my apex.
“I thought you’d never ask,” he says tauntingly. But all jokes fall to the side of the road when I sink myself down his girth right to the base of his cock.
“Jesus fuck,” he growls, staring at where our bodies unite.
He grabs my hips and helps me lift up and sink back down in languid strokes until it gets to be too much for both of us.
“This is all you, baby,” he praises as I hop on his dick with reckless abandon. “God, you’re so fucking hot. Look at you taking my cock. Fuck, I could watch you forever.”
My nails sink into his shoulders, creating half-moons on his skin as I use them to keep my balance.
I’m so close. So goddamn close.
His cock hits all the sensitive spots inside me as if he knows every hidden secret my body tries to hide away.
“That’s it, love. Ride me. Fuck me. Take everything you want from me.”
And I do. I fuck him hard and fast, chasing that thrill over to the edge until I step over the cliff and sail away.
“I got you. I got you,” he promises, wrapping his arms around me as he takes over and thrusts deep inside me while my orgasm ravishes me.
My body shudders on his lap as he holds onto me for dear life, craving to follow me over the edge while whispering words of praise. He says all the right words as I plummet from the heavens back to his arms. I feel his cum slide down my thigh while Caleb brushes my hair, my head now hidden in the crook of his neck.
He pulls my face towards him, his palms on either side of my cheeks.
“What are you thinking right now?”
“I’m not thinking anything.”
“Liar.” He smiles, pulling my head down just to kiss my forehead. “This little brain of yours is always working nonstop. The only time it isn’t is when I’m fucking you senseless.” He laughs. “So tell me, what are you thinking about?”
“That I don’t want to think,” I admit. “That I’d rather just feel.”
His eyes soften as he stares deep into my eyes.
“And how do you feel?”
“Scared,” I admit.
“Of me?”
“No. Of me.”
He nods as if understanding what I mean by that.
“Do you want me to go?” he asks, brushing my hair back with his fingers.
“No,” I say, snuggling into him until my head rests on his chest.
I can feel his smile as he wraps his arms around my body.
“So I can stay?”
“Hmm,” I hum, listening to his heartbeat.
“Good. Cause I really don’t want to leave.”
“I don’t want you to either.”
He pulls my head back and stares at my face, scanning every inch of it as if trying to store it into his memory.
“Do you mean that?” I nod. “So we’re giving this a shot?” he asks hopefully.
“I don’t see that I have another choice.”
His brows furrow at that.
“You always have a choice, Roxie.”
“No… no, I don’t. Not when it comes to you.”
His green eyes grow tender as he continues to stare at me, understanding exactly what I mean by that.
I tried to run from this.
I tried to put a professional barrier between us.
I even tried to deny it was happening.
But all my efforts were in vain.
Not only did Caleb get under my skin, but he managed to wiggle himself into my broken heart and plant a flag with his name on it.
He’s carved himself a home inside me now.
And no matter what I do from this point out, life, as I once knew it, will never be the same.
Be it my ruin or salvation, only time will tell.