Page 59 of Fallen Hero

Which was unfortunate.

The bastard had yet to fully recover from the top swells of her tits being on display, and now that he had Calli’s undivided attention, he thought it was a good idea to twitch.

Her gaze shot back to mine. But instead of the pink deepening like I thought it would, a sexy smirk tugged at her lips.

“Seems like it’s in working order,” she mumbled.

I could show her how well it worked.

Fuck.

Down, you greedy bastard. Calli is not for you.

And I was talking to my dick like a tool.

Focus.

“A few months later, I met another woman. I’m totally into her, she was sweet and shy and fucking pretty as hell. We’ve got two months into the relationship, I’m falling for her and committed to seeing where things are headed. I get to her work earlier than she was expecting, she’s standing outside waiting for me, I approach from behind . . . and I hear her on the phone with one of her girls, telling her she doesn’t know what’s wrong with me. We’d fucked around, done everything but have sex, and she tells her friend she thinks I’m secretly gay and haven’t come to terms with it yet. That ends.”

“Gay? Seriously? These women are confident. I would’ve totally gone with I’m a shit kisser and the can’t-give-a-blow-job route before gay.”

The robe, the legs, the tits were torture. Hearing Calli say “blow job” was a new circle of hell.

To stop my mind from thinking about how her pretty lips would look wrapped around my dick, I went back to my tale of woe.

“The next chick lasts a month before I catch her with one of the guys I work with. Her excuse—women have needs and I wasn’t fulfilling them. Fair enough, I get it, but at that point, I had no interest in mindless fucking. I’d waited as long as I had, I’d held out for the woman I thought I was going to marry, I could wait until I found the right one.

“It was number five who really taught me to never trust a woman. She played the long game, and she was damn good. I thought I’d found the One. Turns out all she wanted to do was fuck a Seal. After she got what she wanted, she dumped my ass. I gave her my virginity, she got bragging rights that she bagged a Frogman.”

Calli shot to sitting, her robe spilled open more, a hint of her nipple now visible. And it gapped at the juncture of her thighs, giving away she was wearing pink, lacy panties.

“Are you fucking kidding me? What’s her name?”

“Calli—”

“Seriously, Mase, what’s her name? I promise not to put her down, but the bitch needs to be taught some fucking respect.”

I wanted to process that. I wanted her defense of me and my virtue to feel good, but I couldn’t begin to process it when the more she spoke and gestured with her hands, the wider the opening in the robe became.

I slammed my eyes closed as the word hell took on a new meaning.

“Baby, your robe.”

“Shit. Sorry.”

I heard movement but didn’t open my eyes.

Honest to God, there was only so much a man could take before his self-imposed rules flew out the window. I only had so much control, and the last threads were fraying. Soon I’d be on my knees in front of her, begging for a taste.

“I’m covered. Sorry again, and thanks for . . . you know, being a gentleman.”

That wasn’t gentlemanly, that was self-preservation.

Raw and desperate need to bury my face between her thighs was simmering too close to the surface.

“So, are you going to give me her name so I can kick her ass?” Calli asked, like my dick hadn’t gone from hard to solid and I had actual blood in my brain to think.

“What name?”