Page 50 of Operator
“I’m saying I’m in this for good.”
“Say it again,” I demand, pulling her close to me.
She smiles brightly. “I’m in this with you for good, Cal. No matter what.”
My eyes close and my arms clutch around her, pulling her as close as I can with the baby still sleeping between us. She leans her head on my shoulder and then, in the afternoon sunlight, I kiss her deeply.
There’s still a heaviness around my heart, but it’s a little easier to carry with Gwen at my side.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
GWEN
For a momentwhen I wake up the next morning in Callum’s arms, everything feels the way it’s supposed to.Thisis where I’m meant to be. We’d come home the night before after visiting Ian’s grave and I’d made dinner. Callum loves it when I cook for him and it makes me feel intense pleasure to have his eyes light up whenever I set a plate in front of him. He truly fits the old saying that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Even if it was something as uncomplicated as meatloaf, brussel sprouts, and mashed potatoes.
I thought maybe after the baby went to bed we’d take everything to the next level, but Callum doesn’t seem to be in any hurry. In fact, he seems to be enjoying the slow burn. Me? Not so much. I’ve always had a healthy sexual appetite, but I’ve never thought so much about sex in my life. Specifically, sex with Callum.
We spent the evening playing board games and cards instead. It’s kind of cute, actually. I think he wants to woo me instead of taking me to bed right away. He trounced me at chess, and I challenged him to poker. When he beat me at that, too, I dared him to play strip Twister, but he wouldn’t go for it. I settled for cuddling on the couch, but I was already scheming up ways to get him naked again. When we fell asleep, it was tangled together without an inch of space between us, and we woke up the same way.
“Good morning,” he says, and I look up, startled to find him awake and grinning at me.
I pull away a little so I can see him more clearly. “What?”
He tugs me back, flush against his body. “What do you mean what?”
Giving in, I snuggle against his warmth. I could get used to waking up to him. “Why are you smiling at me like that?” The quicksilver anxiety that had flushed my body fades away as he strokes my back.
“Maybe I like waking up with you.” When I don’t say anything, he adds, “Is that okay?”
My answering whisper is hoarse. “It’s more than okay.”
In fact…I practically leap up from the bed, as quietly as I can, so I don’t disturb the sleeping baby and carefully wheel her into the nursery next to the master bedroom. I leave her there, still fast asleep, then dart to the bathroom. Cal is sitting up now, watching me with a bemused expression. Closing the door behind me, I’m grinning so hard it hurts my face. In under two minutes, I freshen up, brush my teeth, and give myself a quick pep talk in the mirror.
That doesn’t keep my heart from pounding when I reopen the door. Cal is still shirtless in bed, the comforter pulled up to his hips. He’s browsing on his phone, but puts it on the nightstand when he sees me in the doorway. He doesn’t say anything, merely lifts a questioning brow, but I’m so nervous my tongue is glued to the roof of my mouth.
Sensing my mood, maybe, he merely watches as I cross the room to his side of the bed. His hands are by his sides now, palm up, and they offer no resistance when I tug the comforter down past his knees. He’s wearing a soft pair of navy gym shorts and probably nothing underneath. I guess I’m going to find out soon enough. My eyes meet his for one pulse-pounding moment, and then I reach for the waistband of his shorts.
I’ve been thinking about this since the day he kissed me and even more since the shower. He puts a hand on my wrist as I start to tug the gym shorts down. “What are you doing?” he asks. His eyebrows are in the vicinity of his hairline. He doesn’t try to stop me, just uses the hand on my wrist to get my attention.
“Whatever I want.” I’ve never been so bold. I swear Cal brings it out in me. This contrariness andsass, as he would call it. I think he likes it because below my wrist he’s already getting hard. My knees loosen at the joints, and I have to lock them to keep from buckling before I even started.
He cants his hips so I can pull the shorts the rest of the way off and I nearly swallow my own tongue as he relaxes prone in front of me, his bare, beautifully sculpted body on display. He’s hard lines and rugged muscle. Submitting to my touch, he holds still as my hands traverse the scars on his chest, abdomen, and thighs. My fingertips trace the puckered, slightly pinkened skin of each of his scars.
I hesitate for a moment once I’ve explored each one, then decide to start at the top and work my way down. Before I can touch him again, he scoots over on the bed for me without a word and makes room so I can sit on my knees next to him. I can’t help myself. I lean down for a kiss, loving the way his mouth softens for me, then parts. His lips are lush and full, his tongue confident and flirtatious. I smile through the kiss and when I pull back, he’s smiling too.
“You’ll tell me stop if you want me to, okay?”
He shakes his head. “Not a goddamned thing on earth could make me tell you to stop, angel.”
I study him for a moment, wondering how best to proceed next. Then I decide to hell with it and straddle his lap. He sucks in a breath, his hands coming to grip my hips when he feels me bare against his cock. I’d ditched the panties in the bathroom before coming out, so underneath the nursing nightgown, I’m completely naked against him. My eyes flutter closed at his heat, and I give a full body shiver. His fingers clamp down on my hips in response.
Unable to help myself, I press my torso flush against his, my sensitive breasts compressing against his chest, and I kiss him again, this time deeper, longer. His hands set a steady pace on my hips, encouraging me to grind against his hardness. I moan into his mouth, and he only presses me harder against him.
I could get lost like this. I could easily come from the friction alone, but that’s not what I want. With a ragged breath, I break the kiss and give him an admonishing look. His neck is flushed red under his tan and scruff, and he frowns at me, but I only smile.
“It’s my turn this time,” I declare.
“Yes, ma’am,” he says, though his hands are in fists as though to restrain himself from touching me. I have to admit, I like the thought of him completely at my mercy.
