Wish I May
Page 17
But what I really want is a better view. I want to see the expression on his face as he works himself over. I want to see the ripple of his muscles as he strains against the need to come. I want to open the shower door and—without a word—drop to my knees and replace his hand with my mouth.
Just the thought of it has my legs unsteady. Who knew the thought of giving a bl*w j*b could turn me on so much? With anyone else it probably wouldn’t, but this is William, and my heart slams in my chest as I imagine filling my mouth with him, his hands in my hair as I take him deep, his ass flexing under my hands.
The thought is more than enough to turn me on. It’s almost enough to get me off.
He groans again, longer, lower, deeper this time, and I know this is the moment I have to make my decision. Either get the hell out of dodge or muster up enough courage to join him.
As much as I hate to leave, I’m too much of a coward to stay. I stumble back. My heel hits the trash can and I jump. My hands fly out to the sides to catch my balance and my arm whacks the sink as I go down.
The next thing I know, Will is out of the shower, dropping to his haunches in front of me. Worried. Naked. Dripping wet. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Fine. I was….” Wishing I was brave enough to join you? Fantasizing about sucking you off? “Looking for Drew.” My eyes drop involuntarily to the erection still standing strong between us. I have never wanted to taste something so badly in my life.
“Cally.” He clears his throat, and I lift my eyes to his face. He’s smirking. “She’s not in here.”
Tonight, maybe tomorrow, I’ll probably think up a genius smart-ass retort, but right now the capacity for speech seems to be escaping me.
He offers his hand, and I take it, trying very hard to keep distance between our bodies as he helps me up. I should go, but I’m caught under the spell of those hot blue eyes.
He traces my jaw with his fingertip, moving from behind my ear down to the tip of my chin before touching his thumb to my lips. “Join me in the shower?”
I swallow. Hard. Whisper, “Tempting.”
He groans, low and long and so much like the sounds he was making when I caught him stroking himself in the shower that it takes everything in my power not to strip down, follow him under the spray, and act out every second of my fantasy. Then he dips his head so his lips brush my ear. “Having you watch me while I stroked myself in the shower was one of the hottest experiences of my life.”
A tiny thrill dances down my spine and blossoms, wild and nervous, in my belly. Lower. “You knew I was here?”
Again with the low groan, but he presses closer this time, the hard length of his erection pressing against my belly. “I was already thinking about you. Thinking about how badly I wanted to take you in the shower. Thinking about touching every inch of your body with my soapy hands. Thinking about making you come like I did at the restaurant, but this time you could cry out as loud as you want. You have no idea how much I want that.”
It’s my turn to moan. My body is alive with pulsing sexual energy as if we were hours into foreplay. The wild nerves dancing in my gut play on the unwelcome arousal churning beneath. His breath against my ear sends shivers down my spine. Need and desire spiral low, and I know that if he slid his hand into my panties now I’d be slick, ready.
I lift my hand to his face. I can’t resist. He didn’t shave this morning, and his cheek is rough against my palm. I slide my hand into his wet curls.
“I don’t know what you’re scared of, Cally.” He brushes my hair out of my face and behind my ear. “But I won’t push you beyond anything you’re ready for. Just tell me what you want. Tell me what you need.”
I press my lips to his. He tastes of toothpaste and fresh water, and when our mouths first touch, he stays perfectly still. I brush my lips over his once, twice, three times.
My fingers trace the edge of his jaw, then the top of his shoulders. I explore the firm muscles of his chest. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t touch me. When I finally reach his abdomen, my fingers find the V of his hipbones, and he draws in a sharp breath.
“Cally,” he whispers.
I let my lips find his. He kisses me back softly, tentatively, as if he’s afraid I might run away. Maybe that’s fair, and maybe I should, but right now I’m his. I’m not going anywhere.
He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear and runs his thumb down my cheek, and I decide I don’t care about before or after. I decide I’m going to do something stupid and wonderful right now.
Cally’s in my bathroom, touching me. I am all too aware that I’m na**d and aroused. All too aware of what I was doing before she attempted her clumsy escape.
Her eyes flick back south again before she catches herself and pulls them back to my face, tongue darting out to moisten her lips.
I could press her against the wall. I could talk her into what we both want. But before I can make a move, she glides the palm of her hand against the flat of my stomach and fans her fingers until they’re brushing the base of my cock.
“Jesus,” I hiss. I lift my hands to touch her, then clench my fists and drop them to my sides.
“Let me touch you,” she whispers. Her fingertips dance along the underside of my erection. “No strings. No expectations. Just let me do this for you. Please.”
“Cally.” Her name is a whisper and a prayer, but she’s already dropping to her knees.
She runs her hands down my body and wraps one around my c**k in a movement so sudden and so unexpected, I have to steady myself on the vanity. My heart pounds wildly in my chest and I want to close my eyes and sink into the f**king amazing sensation of her hand sliding over my dick, but I won’t. I can’t bring myself to miss a second of Cally on her knees before me, her lips parted as she looks up at me through those thick lashes and strokes.
“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” she whispers. Then she touches her barely-parted lips to the head of my c**k and sweeps her tongue along the underside. When she opens her mouth over me and takes me deep, I can’t resist touching her anymore and my hands find their way into her hair.
Her soft moans fill my head as she slides her mouth over me, sucking me deep before pulling back and repeating the motion. When her hand slides up the inside of my thigh to cup my balls, my fingers tighten in her hair and I have to fight the instinct to rock into her, to press myself deeper into the heat of her mouth.
She squeezes lightly on my sac and then, when I don’t think it’s possible for her to take any more of me, she slides her lips down my shaft, taking me in nearly to the root. Then I can’t take it anymore. My dick so deep in her mouth, her hot tongue curling around me, and that sexy ass moan makes her lips vibrate just barely against me.
I tug gently at her hair. “Baby.” She doesn’t pull back but somehow takes me another fraction of an inch deeper. “Sweetheart, I’m gonna come.”
My words only seem to steel her determination and she adds just enough suction that I can’t hold back. I knot my hands in her hair as I release into her throat. Hard and fast and so intense I’m almost worried about her.
Pulling her to her feet, I lean against the wall to catch my breath. I hug her against me. “You’re so f**king amazing,” I whisper.
Her lips, pink and swollen and apparently my true Kryptonite, curl into a smile before she can bite it back. “Thanks.”
I reach for the hem of her shirt and she stiffens. “What is it?”
“Fuck. Drew.” She squeezes her eyes shut and presses her palms against my bare chest until I step back.
Only then do I hear the music down the hall. Before I can ask what’s going on, Cally’s headed in that direction.
I reluctantly pull on some jeans and try to come to terms with the fact that I’m not going to be getting her na**d any time soon. By the time I join her in the living room, she and Drew are already facing off, arms crossed and bodies tense in nearly identical stances, faces drawn into nearly identical scowls. I would laugh if I didn’t think it would get me hit.
“I don’t see why high school is so important.” Drew is saying, “You didn’t finish and you’re doing fine.”
“Fine?” Cally says. “What about my financial situation seems fine to you?”
“You would be fine if you stayed with Brandon. He used to buy you stuff and take care of you. What’s so wrong with that?”
Cally’s hands are balled into fist at her sides, and tension has made her posture stiff. “That’s your great plan? Find some guy to take care of you?”
“It’s better than what Mom did for her clients. It’s better than what the people at school say you’re doing.”
I can see the moment the words register with Cally. Her shoulders sag and she sinks into the couch and leans forward, elbows on knees, head in her hands.
Drew’s face falls, regret wiping her expression clear of its former bitterness. “I don’t believe what they say. I know that you don’t… I’m just….” Her gaze shoots up to meet mine, as if I might be able to take her words back for her.
Cally lifts her head. “Drew, go to your room, please.” There’s something unsaid between them. Old promises drudged up by a strained relationship.
“I’m sorry,” Drew whispers, then she runs past me and up the stairs.
I cross to the couch and sit next to Cally.
She takes my hand before I even offer it. “I shouldn’t have moved them. I should have had Dad sign custody over to me. I could have talked him into it. We would have figured out…something.”
“She’s at a tough age. She’ll be fine. She just needs more time.”
She nods, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth. “She’s pissed at me because she wanted to sleep over with this new friend this weekend. I told her she had to work on Dad’s house with me instead.”
“You’re working on your dad’s house this weekend?”
“The exterminator is done, so…yeah. We can’t stay here forever.”
They could. I wouldn’t mind.
She shrugs. “Anyway, I think Dad misses them.”
“What all are you doing at the house?”
“Not as much as I want. Everything is so expensive. But we can paint and deep clean. Don’t worry. We’ll be out of your hair in no time.” She shakes her head and pushes herself off the couch. “I have to get that pipsqueak back to school before my first client.”
“Cally,” I call, stopping her when she hits the first stair. “You’re not in my hair at all.” Please stay.
“Just in your bathroom.” She bites back a smile. “Sorry about that.”
A groan I hardly recognize rumbles up from my chest. “I’m not.”
WHEN I climb out of the shower, the house is still. The last of the homework is finished, dinner put away, the television turned off. The giggles from the girls’ room have quieted.
I pull on my robe and wrap my hair in a towel before heading to my room, stalling at the staircase halfway there. He’s down there. Maybe tinkering with his photos on his laptop, maybe sitting in the living room with his feet up, grading student papers. Maybe taking a shower of his own. My eyes float closed as I conjure up the image of him under the spray, muscles taut as he strokes himself.
Maybe he’s in bed. Maybe he’s thinking of me, of my mouth on him this morning. Maybe he knows I’m thinking of him.
I pad to my room, closing the door quietly behind me—for privacy or to put another obstacle between us?
Over the last few nights, I’ve found myself heading back downstairs after the girls go to sleep at night, just hoping I might run into William in the kitchen. I love the way his eyes roam over me every time we’re in the same room, as if he’s trying to memorize me, and I find myself craving those moments, looking for them.
I could throw on some clothes and go down to find him, but I won’t. Not tonight. Not when the girls are in the house and I’m so close to giving in to temptation. Every day I’m realizing it’s not a question of if I’ll acquiesce the attraction between us. It’s a question of when.
My phone buzzes, vibrating against the nightstand, and when I pick it up, I see William’s number on the screen.
“Hey there,” I whisper.
“How was your shower?”
“Wonderful. Hot. Long. Water pressure to die for. Much needed.”
His hum of approval carries over the line and rumbles through my body, vibrating through my core and settling between my legs. “You could have taken it down here. You’d like my shower.”
“And have it ruin me for all other showers?” I grin and plop onto the bed. “Hardly.”
“I had a good time hanging out with you and the girls tonight.” His voice drops low, seducing me with treble alone. “I like having you around, Cally.”
I like being around. “I owe you so much for all of this. I really can’t thank you enough.”
“You’re welcome. It’s been my pleasure.”
The silence rises up between us. It’s not an empty silence, eating up space in our conversation. Instead, it’s this loaded silence, charged with attraction and unfulfilled desires. Fantasies. Memories. Unspoken secrets.
“Remember our phone calls after you first moved away?”
“I remember.”
“Lock the door, Cally.”
“Are you trying to keep me in or keep yourself out?” Even as I ask, I turn the lock on the handle.
“You don’t have to worry about me coming up there.”
Just the thought of it has my legs unsteady. Who knew the thought of giving a bl*w j*b could turn me on so much? With anyone else it probably wouldn’t, but this is William, and my heart slams in my chest as I imagine filling my mouth with him, his hands in my hair as I take him deep, his ass flexing under my hands.
The thought is more than enough to turn me on. It’s almost enough to get me off.
He groans again, longer, lower, deeper this time, and I know this is the moment I have to make my decision. Either get the hell out of dodge or muster up enough courage to join him.
As much as I hate to leave, I’m too much of a coward to stay. I stumble back. My heel hits the trash can and I jump. My hands fly out to the sides to catch my balance and my arm whacks the sink as I go down.
The next thing I know, Will is out of the shower, dropping to his haunches in front of me. Worried. Naked. Dripping wet. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Fine. I was….” Wishing I was brave enough to join you? Fantasizing about sucking you off? “Looking for Drew.” My eyes drop involuntarily to the erection still standing strong between us. I have never wanted to taste something so badly in my life.
“Cally.” He clears his throat, and I lift my eyes to his face. He’s smirking. “She’s not in here.”
Tonight, maybe tomorrow, I’ll probably think up a genius smart-ass retort, but right now the capacity for speech seems to be escaping me.
He offers his hand, and I take it, trying very hard to keep distance between our bodies as he helps me up. I should go, but I’m caught under the spell of those hot blue eyes.
He traces my jaw with his fingertip, moving from behind my ear down to the tip of my chin before touching his thumb to my lips. “Join me in the shower?”
I swallow. Hard. Whisper, “Tempting.”
He groans, low and long and so much like the sounds he was making when I caught him stroking himself in the shower that it takes everything in my power not to strip down, follow him under the spray, and act out every second of my fantasy. Then he dips his head so his lips brush my ear. “Having you watch me while I stroked myself in the shower was one of the hottest experiences of my life.”
A tiny thrill dances down my spine and blossoms, wild and nervous, in my belly. Lower. “You knew I was here?”
Again with the low groan, but he presses closer this time, the hard length of his erection pressing against my belly. “I was already thinking about you. Thinking about how badly I wanted to take you in the shower. Thinking about touching every inch of your body with my soapy hands. Thinking about making you come like I did at the restaurant, but this time you could cry out as loud as you want. You have no idea how much I want that.”
It’s my turn to moan. My body is alive with pulsing sexual energy as if we were hours into foreplay. The wild nerves dancing in my gut play on the unwelcome arousal churning beneath. His breath against my ear sends shivers down my spine. Need and desire spiral low, and I know that if he slid his hand into my panties now I’d be slick, ready.
I lift my hand to his face. I can’t resist. He didn’t shave this morning, and his cheek is rough against my palm. I slide my hand into his wet curls.
“I don’t know what you’re scared of, Cally.” He brushes my hair out of my face and behind my ear. “But I won’t push you beyond anything you’re ready for. Just tell me what you want. Tell me what you need.”
I press my lips to his. He tastes of toothpaste and fresh water, and when our mouths first touch, he stays perfectly still. I brush my lips over his once, twice, three times.
My fingers trace the edge of his jaw, then the top of his shoulders. I explore the firm muscles of his chest. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t touch me. When I finally reach his abdomen, my fingers find the V of his hipbones, and he draws in a sharp breath.
“Cally,” he whispers.
I let my lips find his. He kisses me back softly, tentatively, as if he’s afraid I might run away. Maybe that’s fair, and maybe I should, but right now I’m his. I’m not going anywhere.
He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear and runs his thumb down my cheek, and I decide I don’t care about before or after. I decide I’m going to do something stupid and wonderful right now.
Cally’s in my bathroom, touching me. I am all too aware that I’m na**d and aroused. All too aware of what I was doing before she attempted her clumsy escape.
Her eyes flick back south again before she catches herself and pulls them back to my face, tongue darting out to moisten her lips.
I could press her against the wall. I could talk her into what we both want. But before I can make a move, she glides the palm of her hand against the flat of my stomach and fans her fingers until they’re brushing the base of my cock.
“Jesus,” I hiss. I lift my hands to touch her, then clench my fists and drop them to my sides.
“Let me touch you,” she whispers. Her fingertips dance along the underside of my erection. “No strings. No expectations. Just let me do this for you. Please.”
“Cally.” Her name is a whisper and a prayer, but she’s already dropping to her knees.
She runs her hands down my body and wraps one around my c**k in a movement so sudden and so unexpected, I have to steady myself on the vanity. My heart pounds wildly in my chest and I want to close my eyes and sink into the f**king amazing sensation of her hand sliding over my dick, but I won’t. I can’t bring myself to miss a second of Cally on her knees before me, her lips parted as she looks up at me through those thick lashes and strokes.
“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” she whispers. Then she touches her barely-parted lips to the head of my c**k and sweeps her tongue along the underside. When she opens her mouth over me and takes me deep, I can’t resist touching her anymore and my hands find their way into her hair.
Her soft moans fill my head as she slides her mouth over me, sucking me deep before pulling back and repeating the motion. When her hand slides up the inside of my thigh to cup my balls, my fingers tighten in her hair and I have to fight the instinct to rock into her, to press myself deeper into the heat of her mouth.
She squeezes lightly on my sac and then, when I don’t think it’s possible for her to take any more of me, she slides her lips down my shaft, taking me in nearly to the root. Then I can’t take it anymore. My dick so deep in her mouth, her hot tongue curling around me, and that sexy ass moan makes her lips vibrate just barely against me.
I tug gently at her hair. “Baby.” She doesn’t pull back but somehow takes me another fraction of an inch deeper. “Sweetheart, I’m gonna come.”
My words only seem to steel her determination and she adds just enough suction that I can’t hold back. I knot my hands in her hair as I release into her throat. Hard and fast and so intense I’m almost worried about her.
Pulling her to her feet, I lean against the wall to catch my breath. I hug her against me. “You’re so f**king amazing,” I whisper.
Her lips, pink and swollen and apparently my true Kryptonite, curl into a smile before she can bite it back. “Thanks.”
I reach for the hem of her shirt and she stiffens. “What is it?”
“Fuck. Drew.” She squeezes her eyes shut and presses her palms against my bare chest until I step back.
Only then do I hear the music down the hall. Before I can ask what’s going on, Cally’s headed in that direction.
I reluctantly pull on some jeans and try to come to terms with the fact that I’m not going to be getting her na**d any time soon. By the time I join her in the living room, she and Drew are already facing off, arms crossed and bodies tense in nearly identical stances, faces drawn into nearly identical scowls. I would laugh if I didn’t think it would get me hit.
“I don’t see why high school is so important.” Drew is saying, “You didn’t finish and you’re doing fine.”
“Fine?” Cally says. “What about my financial situation seems fine to you?”
“You would be fine if you stayed with Brandon. He used to buy you stuff and take care of you. What’s so wrong with that?”
Cally’s hands are balled into fist at her sides, and tension has made her posture stiff. “That’s your great plan? Find some guy to take care of you?”
“It’s better than what Mom did for her clients. It’s better than what the people at school say you’re doing.”
I can see the moment the words register with Cally. Her shoulders sag and she sinks into the couch and leans forward, elbows on knees, head in her hands.
Drew’s face falls, regret wiping her expression clear of its former bitterness. “I don’t believe what they say. I know that you don’t… I’m just….” Her gaze shoots up to meet mine, as if I might be able to take her words back for her.
Cally lifts her head. “Drew, go to your room, please.” There’s something unsaid between them. Old promises drudged up by a strained relationship.
“I’m sorry,” Drew whispers, then she runs past me and up the stairs.
I cross to the couch and sit next to Cally.
She takes my hand before I even offer it. “I shouldn’t have moved them. I should have had Dad sign custody over to me. I could have talked him into it. We would have figured out…something.”
“She’s at a tough age. She’ll be fine. She just needs more time.”
She nods, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth. “She’s pissed at me because she wanted to sleep over with this new friend this weekend. I told her she had to work on Dad’s house with me instead.”
“You’re working on your dad’s house this weekend?”
“The exterminator is done, so…yeah. We can’t stay here forever.”
They could. I wouldn’t mind.
She shrugs. “Anyway, I think Dad misses them.”
“What all are you doing at the house?”
“Not as much as I want. Everything is so expensive. But we can paint and deep clean. Don’t worry. We’ll be out of your hair in no time.” She shakes her head and pushes herself off the couch. “I have to get that pipsqueak back to school before my first client.”
“Cally,” I call, stopping her when she hits the first stair. “You’re not in my hair at all.” Please stay.
“Just in your bathroom.” She bites back a smile. “Sorry about that.”
A groan I hardly recognize rumbles up from my chest. “I’m not.”
WHEN I climb out of the shower, the house is still. The last of the homework is finished, dinner put away, the television turned off. The giggles from the girls’ room have quieted.
I pull on my robe and wrap my hair in a towel before heading to my room, stalling at the staircase halfway there. He’s down there. Maybe tinkering with his photos on his laptop, maybe sitting in the living room with his feet up, grading student papers. Maybe taking a shower of his own. My eyes float closed as I conjure up the image of him under the spray, muscles taut as he strokes himself.
Maybe he’s in bed. Maybe he’s thinking of me, of my mouth on him this morning. Maybe he knows I’m thinking of him.
I pad to my room, closing the door quietly behind me—for privacy or to put another obstacle between us?
Over the last few nights, I’ve found myself heading back downstairs after the girls go to sleep at night, just hoping I might run into William in the kitchen. I love the way his eyes roam over me every time we’re in the same room, as if he’s trying to memorize me, and I find myself craving those moments, looking for them.
I could throw on some clothes and go down to find him, but I won’t. Not tonight. Not when the girls are in the house and I’m so close to giving in to temptation. Every day I’m realizing it’s not a question of if I’ll acquiesce the attraction between us. It’s a question of when.
My phone buzzes, vibrating against the nightstand, and when I pick it up, I see William’s number on the screen.
“Hey there,” I whisper.
“How was your shower?”
“Wonderful. Hot. Long. Water pressure to die for. Much needed.”
His hum of approval carries over the line and rumbles through my body, vibrating through my core and settling between my legs. “You could have taken it down here. You’d like my shower.”
“And have it ruin me for all other showers?” I grin and plop onto the bed. “Hardly.”
“I had a good time hanging out with you and the girls tonight.” His voice drops low, seducing me with treble alone. “I like having you around, Cally.”
I like being around. “I owe you so much for all of this. I really can’t thank you enough.”
“You’re welcome. It’s been my pleasure.”
The silence rises up between us. It’s not an empty silence, eating up space in our conversation. Instead, it’s this loaded silence, charged with attraction and unfulfilled desires. Fantasies. Memories. Unspoken secrets.
“Remember our phone calls after you first moved away?”
“I remember.”
“Lock the door, Cally.”
“Are you trying to keep me in or keep yourself out?” Even as I ask, I turn the lock on the handle.
“You don’t have to worry about me coming up there.”
