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This is where I want to be. Where I’m meant to be.
Sex with Donny is a beautiful thing, even when it’s fast and furious. Even when I don’t come. With Donny, it’s not the climax that I crave. It’s him. Pure and simple. My body craves his in a way it’s never craved anyone before.
He pulls out then. “Damn. I’m sorry.”
“For what?” I ask, my cheek against the edge of his blotter.
“I’m not very good at satisfying you. Pleasing women is my specialty, Cal, but with you… I don’t seem to have any control.”
I rise then. The Post-it notes stick to my abdomen with my perspiration. I peel them off. “I don’t recall complaining.”
“You’re a good sport.”
I let out a soft laugh. “You think it’s really about me being a good sport?”
“No. Hell, I don’t know what I think.”
I push a stray hair off his forehead, which is slick with sweat. “Okay, fair enough, but here’s what I think. I’m kind of glad you don’t have any control with me. I like that I have that effect on you.”
“Oh? You don’t miss the orgasms?”
I laugh again softly. “I won’t say that. Doesn’t everyone love a good orgasm? But I’m not all about the climax, Donny. I’m about the experience.”
“You must like your experiences instantaneous, then,” he says.
“It wasn’t instantaneous.”
“Damn near.”
“It was a release. You’re on edge, and frankly, so am I. I get it.”
He rakes his fingers through his already disheveled hair. “I should have never involved you in this.”
“I want to be here for you.”
But he doesn’t know the other part of why I’m on edge. Sure, I feel what he feels. I’m worried for him and his brother and sisters and what they might uncover. Even more, I’m concerned about what this man went through as a child—what brought him to Snow Creek and the Steels.
And though that thought outweighs anything else, I’m also freaked about my own problems.
Pat Lamone.
It could be nothing.
But already I know it’s not nothing. He lied to Donny at the motel. Said Rory had slept with him. Said I’d been next in line. Said we were easy. We were gold diggers.
In truth, he’s the gold digger. We have proof. I’m guessing he found out about my relationship with Donny and thinks he can make money by threatening to expose Rory, me, and the rest of us.
He can think again.
We took care of him once, and we’ll do it again if need be.
Man, I wish I were as strong as those thoughts…
“Callie?”
I jerk toward Donny’s voice. “Yeah?”
“You okay? You got a…weird look in your eye for a minute.”
I force a smile. “I’m fine.”
“Good,” he says, “because I’m going to take care of you now.”
Chapter Five
Donny
Callie’s low ponytail is sagging, and strands of her brown hair have come loose. Her amber eyes are on fire, though, and I know I can pull two or three orgasms out of her easy.
I didn’t get to prove that she isn’t “one and done” while we were in Aspen because Dale called about Dad.
I’ll prove it to her now.
I lift her in my arms and set her on the edge of my desk. Then I spread her legs. Most guys I know won’t go down on a woman after they come inside her. Me? I take every opportunity to go down on a woman. Usually I’m wearing a condom, though, so the semen-in-pussy thing isn’t a problem.
With Callie, I don’t care. I want her to come, and going down on her will make that happen.
She’s beautiful—swollen, pink, and wet. I flick my tongue over her clit and shove a finger into her. I don’t have to get her ready. She’s already there.
She gasps at the intrusion, and I look up at her. Her eyes are closed, her cheeks pink, her lips parted just a touch. I want desperately to move upward and kiss her—that’s how beautiful her pink lips are at this moment.
But not before she comes.
And comes again.
I swirl my tongue over her clit again before clamping my lips around it and gently sucking. I find her spongy G-spot, add a second finger, and then do the patented Donny Steel scissor finger move while tugging just so on her clit.
Each woman is different. Some are very sensitive to clitoral stimulation. Some need a damned bulldozer.
Callie is perfect.
She takes just enough pressure, doesn’t make me work too hard.
And I’d gladly work harder than ever to please her.
She moans above me, threads the fingers of one hand through my hair as I lick and probe her.
Then—
“Yes, Donny, yes!”
She clamps around my fingers, releasing. I ease up on her clit, licking it softly now, just enough to keep her going.
She moans again, and when I look up at her gorgeous face, her teeth are clamped down on her lip.
She’s trying not to shriek.
