AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I understand, and that's even more of a reason to quit. Whatever you decide to do for work should be enjoyable. Life is so much more than clocking in and out and waiting for the weekend to come. Take it from me, the years pass quicker than you think.”
A bubble of laughter escapes me. “You're talking like you're seventy-five.”
He wiggles his eyebrows at me, “I feel like it sometimes, and if I were, I'd be highly impressed. Seventy-five and catching a woman like you. That's not even mentioning the fact that I still have swimmers capable of knocking you up.”
“Oh my god, stop.” I playfully smack his arm. “Back to what I was saying, I feel bad keeping the position when I never go in. Someone who really needs a job could be working there.”
“You're right, but I've got to be honest with you. I feel like you're trying to convince me more than you're trying to convince yourself, and we both know I'd rather have you home than anywhere else..”
“Does that make me come off as a spoiled brat?”
“Is that what's bothering you?”
“A little bit,” I admit. “I was raised to appreciate the things you're given. Not to shit all over them and act like you're above others.”
“While I understand the sentiment,” he murmurs, propping himself up on one elbow, “I think you're being too hard on yourself. I've never seen you act boastful or full of yourself, and you're not some spoiled brat who thinks the world owes her something. You're someone who's been through a hell of a lot, and you need time to process that. We both know you don't really need the job, although somebody else might, someone without a safety net.”
A safety net. That's an intriguing way of putting it. “I don't want to become spoiled and ungrateful.”
“I've never met anyone less spoiled and ungrateful in my life, and I'm not saying that lightly.” He places a gentle, lingering kiss on the back of my hand that warms my heart… along with other places. “I've never met anyone as sincere, hardworking, and determined to do the right thing. In every way you're the opposite of what you fear.”
“You're only saying that because I'm your Baby Mama.”
His laughter rings through the room. It's infectious, and I soon start to laugh as well. What a shame so few people have ever heard him laugh or even smile. “I love you. Of course, I'm going to see all your best attributes. Remember, I'm realistic too. I'm not in the business of blowing smoke up anybody's ass—not even an ass as delectable as yours.” He playfully rolls me onto my side and whistles at the sight of it.
“Look all you want now,” I warn with a groan. “It's going to get all fat and droopy soon.”
“There still won't come a day when I don't want to grab it when nobody's looking.” His teeth sink into my ass cheek, just enough to still be playful before he purses his lips, his eyes pointing toward the ceiling. “Actually, it doesn't matter if anyone's looking or not. I'm still going to want to grab it.”
“I hope you don't end up getting tired of me.”
The mischievousness in his features twists, and he hits me with an apprehensive look that makes me wish I hadn't said that. “Where's this coming from? I've told you before there is no getting tired of you. Wanting you in the first place had nothing to do with danger or how wrong it was for us to be together. It's you, Bianca. Everything about you. There won't be a day when I don't want you. Crave you. Fantasize about you how a dying man fantasizes about having one more happy, healthy day.”
Warmth stirs in my core as he sweeps his tongue over my skin, as it always does at times like this. I know what he means about craving—I crave him, too, constantly. No matter what I'm doing, he's always there, lurking in the back of my mind like some prize I get at the end of the day—something to always look forward to. Even when I was sleeping down the hall, lost, hurt, and confused… I wanted him. He was the reason for my pain and the only thing that could take it away.
Once he's finished his slow tour and we're face-to-face, I make a point of casting a look toward the clock on the nightstand. “It's getting late. Romero will be up here any minute now wondering why you aren't already at your desk.”
His groan leaves me chuckling while I run my fingers through his hair. “Way to go and mention him at a time like this.”
I look down between our naked bodies to find his thick cock jutted out and hard as steel. “It didn't seem to do anything to him,” I point out, brushing my fingertips over the mushroom head, grinning at his heavy sigh.
So needy, and only I can give him what he craves.
“That's because he has a one-track mind.”
“Funny. I thought you were the one with the one-track mind.”
“Don't tell anybody.” He winds his fingers around mine and gives me an insistent tug until there's no choice except to follow him out of bed. “He does a lot of my thinking for me.”
“I figured that much.” It's not like I can complain or act like I don't want to get in the shower with him—any excuse to be close for an extra few minutes before real-life stuff gets in the way.
Soon it's Callum's hands I'm more focused on, how he gets right down to the business of lathering me up with my lilac body wash. The flowery scent fills the shower, just one more pleasurable thing for my senses to pick up on, along with the pleasure of being touched. Wanted. Treasured. Things might not be perfect between us—we have a long way to go—but we can always come back to this.
“Let me do your back.” I turn and face the wall, bracing my forearms against the tile while he lathers my neck, then my shoulders, before working his way further down. “You have the most perfect skin. It's unreal.” He slows, his touch becoming more deliberate.
What's unreal is the sudden electricity in the air. How does he do it? It's his soft, seductive voice. The throb of desire running through it. How his hand lingers a beat longer than necessary when he soaps my legs, or how his fingertips skim my ass cheeks until I tremble. By the time he's finished, I'm one big, pulsing nerve ready to beg for release.
I have to credit him for taking as long as he does before his body begins sliding against mine. “Are you my shower sponge now?” My chuckle is cut off by the touch of his hand between my legs, caressing my already swollen lips. How is it so easy for him to turn me into a whimpering, needy animal whose only goal is to come?
