Chapter 42
chapter
forty-two
SHAY
Pasta water boiled over onto the stove, hissing loudly in the otherwise silent kitchen.
Fuck. This was so bad.
Saturday. Today was Saturday.
“You’re fucking the predator?” My sister’s narrowed eyes bounced from me and back to Calder. Calder moved to take off his mask, and Lithie stabbed the uncooked pasta toward him. He froze.
“He’s not a predator!” I said. “It’s Calder. It’s the guy from the app.”
“That makes this even less okay,” Eames said, the dildo in his hand bouncing as he spun to face me. And then I realized I was still holding one.
We’d had them out for science.
Olly was certain the anatomy described for the hero in our latest book was physically impossible, so Eames took out his stash to prove her wrong.
“You met with him once and he broke into your building?” Eames spun back from me to him, brandishing the dildo without shame.
“Yeah,” Olly added. “Have you heard of, I don’t know, sending flowers?”
Calder opened his mouth, but after shooting a glance at my sister, he closed it quickly.
“It’s my fault,” I said, as much explanation for them as it was an apology to him. “I got the dates mixed up. You weren’t supposed to be here, Lithie. I agreed to this.”
Calder had even confirmed the date with me. I had no excuse other than the fact that I occasionally forgot what day it was.
It hadn’t ever been an issue…
Until now.
They groaned in unison.
Lithie let out a long exhale and rubbed her temple with the pasta-free hand. “Jesus, Shay.”
“This is, without a doubt, the worst case of your date blindness,” Olly said.
The tension in the room splintered. Calder took off his mask and all three of them stared. He grinned, rubbing his jaw, sheepish.
My sister set the pasta on the counter, giving Calder a glare before turning off the stove. If I thought that was the end of it, of course I was wrong.
“Who are you?” my sister asked, coming back and folding her arms. “What’s your mother’s maiden name?”
“Uh,” Calder started, only to be cut off by Eames.
“Where do you work?” he asked.
“How many convictions are on your record?” Olly countered.
Marinara dripped off Calder to a splattering puddle on the floor. The guy who had been nothing but in control from the moment we met was now shy and uncomfortable.
“Let him get cleaned up first,” I said.
“I’m not letting a predator use my shower,” Lithie said.
“He’s not—” I broke off on a sigh. “You owe me. I covered when we lived with Mom and you snuck a boy into the house who stole her favorite crystal.”
Lithie’s eyes darted from me to Calder then back to me.
She rolled her eyes, giving in. “Fine. You can go shower. But if you even look at my hair mask, you’re cooking my pasta.”
I gripped his wrist as he left, trying to say sorry with my eyes. In return, he gave me a soft smile, brushing the back of my wrist with his thumb.
“Cooking your pasta?” I asked Lithie as the door to the bathroom shut with a soft snick. “What kind of threat is that?”
“I’m worried about you, Shay,” my sister said. “First a graveyard and then this?”
“There are other ways to meet men,” Eames said.
“Calder is the same guy from the graveyard,” I said.
They all opened their mouths.
Then closed them.
“That’s Grave Boy?” Lithie asked.
Eames whistled. “I get it now.”
“I really like him,” I said.
Their eyes narrowed.
“You weren’t supposed to be here,” I continued. “I wouldn’t have done this if I’d known you were here.”
“Oh great,” Lithie said, “so you invite the sexual burglar over when no one else can save you.”
“That’s…”
“Is he your boyfriend?” Eames asked.
“Why haven’t you told us about him?” Lithie continued.
“Why the secrecy?” Olly added.
I could sense a billion more questions about to head my way, questions I didn’t think I could answer. He wasn’t my boyfriend, but it was more than casual—right?
He knew more about me than anyone.
Than even my sister.
“You know, the shower is finicky,” I said. “Let me go make sure he figured it out.”
“Shay—”
I cut my sister off. “I’ll come back. I’ll answer your questions then.”
The bathroom was thick with steam when I entered. I leaned against the shut door and stared at the horror curtain my sister insisted we use—bloody handprints that showed up only in the shower heat.
I pulled my shirt over my head and shimmied out of my joggers. I tugged the curtain back, stepping in behind him.
He jumped, startled, turning to face me. Water poured down his blade-sharp cheekbones and across his plush lips. His whole body glistened, tattoos inky in the water running rivulets down his body. God, I wanted him. I’d never wanted anyone the way I wanted him.
When I saw him, my entire body disappeared into need.
I became a creature of instinct.
I dropped to my knees. He grabbed my shoulder, stopping me before I could. “Your sister.”
I tilted my head, focusing on his wide eyes. “Are you afraid of my sister?”
He gave me a look. “I have a healthy sense of self-preservation so…yeah.”
I smiled. There was something endearing about that. Graham had hated my sister, but he hadn’t feared her.
I attempted to drop to my knees again and his grip tightened, brow furrowing. “What are you doing?”
“Saying sorry. Will you let me?”
“You don’t need to say sorry, Shay.”
“I want to.”
He hesitated a beat, then let me go. I dropped all the way to my knees and took his cock in my hands. Thick. Throbbing. Slippery under the shower. Growing harder in my palms. Up close, I saw a vein threading from the base to the tip.
“I’m going to fit this in my mouth,” I said.
“You’d be the first.”
I shot him a look, a thrill shooting up my spine. Shock. Surprise.
“No one’s ever fit all of me, baby,” he said. He didn’t sound cocky when he spoke, just certain.
Which was all the hotter.
An insane, possessive urge overcame me. I gripped him harder. Slippery under the water. I would be the first. I had to be the first. So even when this inevitably ended, he couldn’t forget me.
So then maybe he’d be forced to take a piece of me with him. It was only fair. After all, Calder Throe had lodged himself deep into my marrow.
I pressed my lips to the tip of his cock, keeping my eyes on him.
His head flew back, wet hair falling over eyes still locked on me. The shower pelted water on my shoulders as I swallowed him deeper. He hit the back of my throat too early, and I pulled back, gagging.
Fuck. It wouldn’t fit.
“Sorry,” I said.
He tilted my chin up with his hand. “Don’t ever fucking apologize for gagging on my cock.”
I shifted, suddenly aching between my legs at the look in his eyes.
I studied his cock like it was the organic chem test in college I couldn’t figure out. Both excited by the challenge and a little pissed off.
I’d never deep-throated before.
“Relax, baby,” he said, rubbing his thumb across my chin. “Start with your tongue out, and breathe.” He wiped the water from my eyes before tangling his hands in my hair.
I did as he told. Keeping my tongue out, flat, and relaxing my breath.
I gripped him, forcing the curve of his cock to go in the right angle down my throat. It was kind of like a puzzle.
I shoved him farther down my throat until I felt so full, so stretched, that I couldn’t breathe. For a moment I thought maybe I would die like this. This had to be all of it.
He groaned, his grip tightening in my hair. “Fuck, Shay, yes.”
And I choked again. Spit mixing with shower water on his cock. My head fell forward, blurry-eyed and heavy. I breathed.
Calder massaged the back of my neck.
“You did so well, Manic,” he purred.
“Did I do it?” I asked, blinking as shower water pelted my eyes. His hands came over my forehead, shielding me, and he shook his head on a smile.
“What?” I gasped. “How much was left?”
His free hand went to his cock, showing me how far I’d gotten.
My shoulders dropped. “Oh my god. I barely got halfway.”
“Come here.” He gripped my throat, dragging me up from my knees and into him, mouth landing on mine.
The shower cascaded on both of us, the water making the flavor of him stand out. Like clean skin and Calder. He knotted his hand in my wet hair, swallowing more of me. Devouring. I gasped and he growled into my open mouth, hand sliding between my thighs, a finger slipping inside me—
Knock.
“If you’re fucking him, I swear to god, Shay!” my sister yelled through the door, knocking furiously.
Calder paused, his forehead against mine, finger still inside me.
Then, with a heavy exhale, he withdrew it and rubbed my wet hair out of my face.
With another long, deep kiss, but without tongue, he said against my lips, “We should probably pay the piper.”