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The guys release me, and I’m finally able to stand up. Cheeks burning red, I attempt to smooth down my blouse, but it’s terribly wrinkled. I make a face at the state of my appearance, but when I look back up at Maeve, she’s smiling indulgently at me.
“Sorry,” I say under my breath, face flaming. I know it’s a dumb thing to be embarrassed about, but all I can hear is my mother’s voice, telling me that I can’t afford to look sloppy with my body shape. It comes across lazy, like I don’t care. People already have so many opinions about my body, about what I eat or drink; the last thing I need is to give anyone another reason to judge me.
Cal’s mom isn’t like my mom, though. She’s warm and caring and easy to be around. But I’m on edge, maybe from being jet lagged. Whatever the case may be, I’m mortified and can’t hide it.
“Sorry,” I repeat.
“Nonsense,” she says, pretending she didn’t just walk in on the three of us horsing around like children. My face must show my discomfort, because she pats me on the shoulder to bring me out of the living room. “Let’s go upstairs and freshen up. I’ll throw your blouse in the tumble dryer for a little while and it’ll be right as rain.”
I’m not sure what to say in response, following her upstairs sheepishly and doing everything in my power not to make eye contact. She leads me to a bathroom and sends Cal to grab me a washcloth and towel to get freshened up with, then gestures for me to hand her my blouse. It takes me several moments to wipe the shocked look off my place and realize thatshe’s perfectly serious. I slip the shirt over my head, quickly wrapping my arms around my body to shield myself. It’s not that I’m a prude or that I think she cares about what bra I wear, but I’m still uncomfortable with people seeing my body. Even Cal and Ezra, who look at me like I’m some kind of goddess, don’t ever see this much flesh under fluorescent lighting. The lights are always dimmed, and everyone is usually too distracted by chasing orgasms to examine the stretch marks that are currently glowing in the bright light of the bathroom.
If Maeve notices or cares, she doesn’t say a word. She grabs my shirt and tells me it’ll just be five or so minutes, and leaves me alone. I stare at myself in the mirror for several moments until there’s a knock at the door. Opening the door just a crack, I see Cal standing in the hallway with the towel and washcloth his mother sent him for. I open the door wider to reach for them, but Cal makes a face before he barrels his way into the bathroom, invading my space during a moment of weakness.
“What’s wrong?” He says, worried. “If you’re upset about getting caught rough-housing, I promise my parents don’t think anything of it. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
“No, that’s not it. I’m fine, really, just a bit jet lagged, maybe. Give me a few minutes to freshen up and I’ll come back downstairs.” I don’t look into his eyes as I reach around him to usher him out the door. “Cal, your mom could come back at any moment. The last thing I need is her thinking we’re in here…” My voice trails off. “You know.”
Cal’s mouth quirks, and he moves in closer, boxing me in against the counter. “No, I don’t think I do know,bláth fiáin. Why don’t you tell me?”
His hands reach for mine, unwinding my arms from aroundmy middle, looking me up and down. I’m not wearing my usual bodysuit, because I thought it would be uncomfortable to wear on the plane. Instead, I opted for a simple black cotton bra and panty set. The panties that I’m no longer wearing, because Ezra hid them away in his pocket when the two of them spit roasted me across one of the twin sized beds in Cal’s childhood room. It turns out I cannot, in fact, fit both of their cocks in my mouth at once, so in the interest of making the most of our time, they flipped a coin to see who would take each end. I’d like to pretend I’m above that kind of debasement, but it was hotter than sin to have them use me like a plaything.
I feel stupid, because there’s no doubt in my mind Ezra was getting an eye full of cellulite when he took me from behind. And I’m sure there were multiple back rolls on display, but when they’re taking me like that, there’s no room for thought or self-consciousness. But standing beneath the bright lights of this bathroom, I just want to curl in on myself.
Cal must read my mind, or the way I attempt to use the towel to shield myself is more than obvious about what direction my thoughts have taken. His eyes harden, the moss green a few shades darker than usual. He spins me around so I’m facing the counter, looking into the large oval mirror. The bright lights that frame the top of the mirror beam down on me, and I avert my eyes. Eventually the silence is too much, and I flit my eyes to meet Cal’s in the mirror.
“What do you see,mobláth?” He asks quietly.
“I don’t want to do this right now, Cal,” I croak out, my throat clogging with the tears I’m trying to hold back.
“Do I need to get Ezra in here? Or how about Ma? All she can talk about is how feckin’ gorgeous you are, and you clearly respectheropinions of you.” He moves to open the door, and Iknow better than to call his bluff.
“No!” I bark out in a whisper. “Please, Cal. Don’t do this.”
“Look at yourself in the mirror, Beth.” His fingers dig into my hips with impatience as he holds me in front of him, facing the mirror.
Eyes hot with tears, I turn my head to the mirror, looking at him instead of myself. His eyebrow lifts in challenge, and I huff out of breath before meeting my own gaze.
“What do you see?” He asks, gently.
“A hot mess,” I say, laughing through my tears. It’s true, I’m a mess. Most of my hair has come loose from the ponytail I had it in, my mascara is smudged beneath my eyes, and my face is puffy from the flight and from crying. The bright lights accentuate the dark circles beneath my eyes, displaying how tired I am despite the nap.
“Do you want to know what I see?”
Not really, but I have a feeling he’s going to tell me, anyway. His hands come up to cradle my jaw, forcing me to face my reflection.
“I see all this thick, luscious hair that still smells like comfort despite the flight and a long day. It’s a bit messy, but the just fucked style is a good look for you.” He smirks and nuzzles his nose in my nape. “I see eyes deeper than an ocean, that hold too much pain and self-judgement when there should be none, but also hold more love than I ever thought possible.” His thumb pushes against my bottom lip. “I see your perfect, pouty lips that make me feel weightless when you kiss me, and drive me to think of dirty, dirty things when I watch you speak. Andwhen you smile, I think I haven’t actually lived a moment of happiness a day in my life until I met you, because nothing compares to how it makes me feel.”
His hands move slowly down my neck and over my shoulders. My breaths come slow and heavy. I’m hypnotized by the way he touches and looks at me, even though there’s still a part of me that is afraid he’ll find something he doesn’t like, something that will be the deal breaker.
“I see your perfect, creamy skin that I want to kiss and taste every inch of.” His lips move slowly over the curve of my neck, making my skin pebble all over. He moves his hands over my bra. I suck in a breath when his fingers glide over the hardened peaks of my nipples. My body tenses when one hand caresses down my stomach, and he trails two fingers across the stretchmarks that live just above the waistband of my jeans. His other hand slides down the back of me to cup my ass. “The shape of you turns me on.”
Both of his hands come around and undo the button and zipper of my pants, and my belly falls through the opening without anything to support it and hold it in. I hold back a cringe when his hands move over the flab of my stomach.
“There’s not one inch of your body that isn’t perfect, Beth. There isn’t one inch of you that I’m not mad over.”
His face is buried in the side of my neck, his breaths hot against the shell of my ear. He holds my gaze as he dips a hand into the stretchy material of my jeans, pushing two fingers through my folds. His eyes flutter and roll back a little when they slip easily inside me, still wet with Ezra’s earlier release and a new flood of warmth that overtakes me as his fingers play me like an instrument.
My breasts heave with my heavy panting, and I grip the edge of the sink to keep myself steady. Cal’s free hand caresses back over my stomach and breasts to wrap gently around my throat, holding me against his chest. Knees weak, I let out an embarrassingly loud whimper when my climax starts to build.
