6. Callahan
Chapter Six
CALLAHAN
Gemini
Regrets aren’t worth your time. Instead, focus on building a life you want. It’s time to get serious about your desires. Are they lining up with your actions?
My body was buzzing, feeling the lack of her body heat the moment she slipped out the door.
The wad of cum that sat in my pants was inconvenient and embarrassing as hell.
What the fuck had I been thinking? Sitting here acting like a goddamn horny teenager instead of the grown ass man I knew myself to be.
Clearly, I needed to get laid.
I raked my hands down my face like that could make me get my shit together. The problem was a part of me didn’t want to. The desire to follow her out the door and ask for her name and number was so strong that the mess in my fucking pants was the only thing keeping me rooted to this spot.
A significant amount of time and one awkward encounter in the bathroom later, I was cleaned up enough to go find Simon and get the hell out of here.
Intel would have to wait until I was levelheaded enough to function like the professional, I was.
Until then, I had to walk in a way that covered the noticeable wet stain on my pants.
Unfortunately, all it managed to do was bring more unwanted attention to me.
“Dude, why are you walking around like you’ve got a wedgie?” Simon asked, plopping his meaty hand on my shoulder.
I glared at him. If I could have shot daggers out of my eyes in that moment, I would have.
“I am not,” I gritted out from behind my teeth. “Let’s go.”
“What? We just got here.”
My eyes scanned the area. Most around us were too focused on the scantily clad women moving around and dancing to notice us, but more than I was comfortable with were starting to pay attention. Was she still here? Was she watching? Could she see me? Fuck. I really should have asked for her name.
“I had a… uh… situation,” I stammered. Fuck, who even was I right now? Brought to a bumbling mess by the wiles of a gorgeous woman.
“Oh shit,” he laughed so loud it made my eardrum ring. “Yeah. You definitely have a situation. Let’s get you outta here.”
I sighed—grateful he wasn’t going to put up more of a fight with me because it was starting to get crunchy in my briefs.
Simon took the keys and drove me straight to our apartment building.
It was convenient that he lived just a few floors down from me.
The whole building was owned by the Underwoods, and they were filled with people that worked for them.
So, when Simon and I had come back from our overseas assignment, they shuttled us in with our individual accommodations.
It was already furnished with anything we might need.
When I was younger and dumber, I was easily impressed by their ‘gifts’.
But I learned quickly that every handout came with a hefty price.
By the time I was walking into my place, the cum I’d shot out had completely dried in an uncomfortable way that had me with my legs spread wide with each step like a total fucking idiot.
Simon cackled all the way into his apartment.
I could still hear his laughter as I trod up the stairs chaffing from the friction.
I didn’t have many possessions to decorate the space with.
It didn’t make sense to put down roots when you had to leave at a moment’s notice, but what I did make room for in my life, was my beloved tarantula, Stevie.
Named after the iconic, Stevie Nicks. Fleetwood Mac might not have been a conventional choice for a guy my age, but I didn’t give a fuck.
I loved their music and listened to it obsessively.
Sometimes it was the only thing that could calm me down.
And right now, I needed their music something fierce.
It’d been a long fucking time since I’d been so rocked by a woman that I lost all sense. And on a job no less. A mistake like that could cost me.
Fleetwood Mac’s Rhiannon played on the speakers as I showered, remembering every delicious curve of the woman from the club. The way her nipple piercings got so fucking close to my mouth I could nearly taste them.
Fuck. I was hard again and distracted as hell.
I should have been thinking about how to track down the person who stole information, not reliving one of the sexiest moments of my life.
I’d fucked plenty of women, but there was something so alluring about not being able to touch or satiate that need she brought out in me.
The way she teased me with her body, giving me that sly smile because she knew exactly what she was doing to me.
But the thing that got me the most was knowing she was enjoying herself too.
That wet spot on my pants wasn’t all from me.
She’d soaked through her panties and my pants as well.
And fuck did I find that so fucking hot.
Knowing she was enjoying herself as much as I was, had my hand drifting down to tug at my hard cock, picturing the soft way she moaned as she came on me, wishing it had been my cock thrusting inside her.
Wondering how she would feel wrapped around me.
That show she’d put on for me was incredible. The way she moved. The way she looked at me. The way she was able to blow past any semblance of a wall I’d built up over the years to protect myself from getting hurt. But no matter how much I wanted her, it had to be a one-time thing.
The problem with that being, I was already planning when I could make it back to the club again. Tomorrow would seem too suspicious and desperate. But this weekend?
I pumped my cock in my hands harder, thinking of those pierced nipples.
How I wanted to suck and play with them.
How I wanted to shove the tip of my dick into that pouty mouth of hers and come down her throat while I pulled on her long, brown hair.
She would look so fucking pretty choking on my dick.
I bet she could take me down her throat without gagging.
Fuck. The mental image of it alone made my balls seize up.
Heat flooded the center of my belly, licking its way down my spine.
But what surprised me the most about tonight was how much I enjoyed the tease of it all.
Not being able to touch her or feel her the way I longed to only intensified my desire and made me come that much harder.
The thought of her in control like that again had my dick throbbing.
It didn’t take long until thick ropes of cum were shooting out the tip, disappearing down the drain with the now tepid water.
Toweling off, I stepped out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam following closely behind.
My reflection in the mirror was obscured by the fog, so I wiped my hand across it, my flesh squeaking against the glass.
To my surprise, I was greeted with dark circles under my eyes and a frown deepening the crease that lived between my eyebrows.
I looked fucking exhausted. All that travel and nonstop work was beginning to take a toll on me.
What I did wasn’t easy. People were lucky if they made it past thirty in my line of business. And I was now two years past that.
I’d put everything aside for this job. The hope of a family. The normalcy of coming home to a loved one. I hadn’t wanted to risk it. Until now. Until her.
And maybe I was a huge dumbass thinking she might want anything to do with a guy like me. A fucked-up, for hire killer, with enough emotional baggage to sink a ship, and a playlist that sounded like it belonged to someone born in the sixties. A real winner.
Sometimes I wished I could make my overthinking shut the fuck up for two seconds.
My brain didn’t know how to, though. It looked at a problem from all angles.
Assessing and reassessing until I no longer remembered why I was originally worried about the problem in the first place.
But mostly, I excelled at critiquing myself.
Finding fault in nearly everything. In a way, it was a special skill I possessed— being able to turn myself inside out with nothing more than a thought.
I didn’t see myself as deserving of love.
Not after everything I’d done and how I lived.
But maybe Simon had a fucking point for once and I should let myself enjoy my life. He was due to be right eventually.
My phone buzzed with an incoming text. An unknown number flashed with the words: Come in. Tomorrow morning. 10 AM. Don’t be late. Lose this number.
Immediately my stomach plummeted to my ass.
A text like that only could be from one person.
Carmine Underwood.
Looked like I had a date with destiny. And it was a stark reminder why I could never fully be free to have what I wanted— a life for myself. Because it was clear I’d always be at their beck and call. Jumping when they commanded me to jump. My mystery girl would have to remain just that. A mystery.