Chapter Eighteen

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Sabrina

It felt so weird to invite a man into my room, into my bed.

Part of that was because I had my kid across the hall. But, as Daphne kept reminding me, she was practically grown up now. So it was silly to feel weird about having a, er, partner.

The other part was simply because I'd never had a man in my room, in my bed. Well, okay. I'd totally snuck a boyfriend or two into my bedroom as a teen. But that was, at its core, a ‘fuck you' to my father more so than actually wanting to share my bed with someone.

This felt very big. And I tried really hard not to make it feel like it felt like a big deal.

Callow took his turn in the bathroom after me, giving a few moments to toss the clothes I'd stripped out of the other day and hadn't picked up into the hamper. And toss the peanut butter cup wrappers on my nightstand into the trash. And, well, make sure Mr. Good Vibrations was at the back of the second nightstand drawer where it wouldn't be super obvious.

Satisfied, I turned on the TV to muffle any possible… noises. Then quickly stripped out of my after-work clothes and into the cutest pajama set I had—a silky navy blue short and tank top set. No bra. Sexy panties. Or, well, what passed for ‘sexy' in my wardrobe. Which meant it had a little lace around the edges and a sweet little bow at the center.

Callow tapped his knuckles lightly on the door even though I'd left it ajar.

"Double-checked the locks, camera, and the door alarms," he told me as he moved inside, but didn't close the door.

He was changed into a pair of lightweight blue pajama bottoms and a white tee that was all wrinkled from his duffle bag. In his hand was his little brown leather toiletry bag.

"Thank you," I said, moving toward him to push the door closed. Then slide the lock.

To that, Callow shot me a small smile as he walked toward the side of the bed closest to the door since the other side was obviously where I sat, evident by my lotion, a charging station, and a collection of hair ties and clips.

He placed the toiletry bag down, then pulled out something unexpected.

His gun.

"Does this bother you?" he asked, placing it on the nightstand.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I was actually looking into getting one eventually. I just wanted to bring it up to Daphne first. And I didn't want to do it too soon after the attack."

"If you decide to go that route, I can show you how to shoot."

"I will need that," I said. "I have terrible aim. Never gotten a piece of paper in the trash on the first try. Is this strictly necessary?" I asked, grabbing a handful of his tee and giving it a little tug.

"Nope," he said, making short work of pulling it off and tossing it to the floor. "This looks nice," he said, his fingers pinching the edge of my tank top. "Cold?" he asked with a little smile as his hand moved up my belly then teased over my breast where my nipple was straining against the material.

"I think you can keep me warm," I said, climbing up on the bed.

Callow reached to turn off the light before sitting down.

He sat off the side for a moment, removing his prosthetic and then the liner before moving under the covers. Hooking an arm under me, he rolled me up onto him.

It was almost embarrassing how all the stress just seeped out of me at the feel of him against me.

"I got a question," he said.

"Shoot," I said, my fingers tracing an odd half-circle raised scar on his shoulder.

"The tattoo on your ass…"

"I let someone with a tattoo machine they bought God-knew-where do a tattoo on me right before I got pregnant with Daphne. It was awful. But since no one was seeing it but me, I dealt with it for years. Then I finally went to get it covered up. But, ah, to hide the fact that the original tattoo was on my ass—in case my kid ever had questions when bathing suits were involved or something like that—I had the artist drag it down my thigh."

"I like it," he said as his hand slid down my side, over my hip, then teased over the spot where the tattoo was located.

"I like yours too," I said, running my hand over his arm. "Any stories to them?"

"Not really. They're kind of a map of my travels, though. I tried to get some sort of piece done each country I'd visited. Didn't exactly do a fuckuva lot of research before I got ‘em. That's why some are, ha, better than others."

"I like them all. They have character," I said as my fingers moved over a bit of a lopsided sailboat.

"Do you plan on getting more?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I haven't really thought about it. With my job, they'd have to be hidden, but it might be fun to have more. Do you know a good artist?"

"Know a couple," he said as his fingers teased up under my shorts, grazing my ass cheek. "But prefer if neither of ‘em get to look at this ass," he said, giving my butt a squeeze.

"Totally fine saving it for just you," I said, then let out a little moan when his fingers traced the lace around my thigh until he was between, grazing over the gusset of my panties.

"That's all it takes, hm?" he asked, fingers pressing in a bit. "Just being close gets you this wet?"

"Close to you ," I clarified as my hips rocked a bit against his touch.

"Like that more than I probably should," he said as his fingers slipped into my panties and touched me without any barrier.

"Think you like it just the right amount," I said as my hand slid down his front to rub my palm against his hardness.

The little rumble that escaped him had shivers coursing through me.

Callow's fingers pressed inside of me as my hand went into his pajama pants to close around his length.

We worked each other just like that for a few long, lazy moments. Until we couldn't fight the growing need any longer.

Then he was rolling me onto my back and coming over me, pulling down the front of my tank top to expose my breasts so he could suck one into his mouth.

What started as a slow exploration became hands grabbing at material, dragging it down and off until we were both bare, until we were grabbing at skin instead of fabric.

Callow grabbed for his bag on the nightstand, digging out a condom and slipping it on as my lips pressed into his neck, my tongue teasing his pulse point.

"Get up here and ride me," he demanded when he was done.

I didn't need to be told twice.

I moved to straddle him, lifting up, then sliding down his length, taking him down to the base with a low moan as his hands flexed on my hips.

"Fuck, you feel good," he groaned, hips bucking up into me, creating a delicious little pinch that I found myself bearing down into before I started to lift up and down.

My moan was the only response I could give him as I started to ride him. Slow at first, then harder and faster until I was teetering right at that edge, my whole body tensed.

Callow's hand flew up, covering my mouth to muffle my cries as the orgasm slammed through me.

I fell forward into him, my face nuzzling into his neck as the aftershocks rolled through me.

But Callow wasn't done with me. Not yet.

As soon as my breathing was somewhat normal again, Callow was turning me, rolling me onto my side with my back facing him.

He slid in closer behind me, his cock teasing against my cleft for a long moment. Until I was rocking back against him. Until I was begging for more.

Only then did he slam inside of me.

He was immediately fucking me fast, driving me up at a breakneck pace.

I turned my face into the bedding, muffling my moans as they got louder and louder as he drove me closer to that edge.

"That's it," Callow groaned in my ear. "Squeeze my cock."

Just like that, I came.

Callow fucked me through it before pressing deep and coming with me.

He held me like that afterward, his body touching mine from the top of my head to our thighs.

Eventually, I turned to face him, pressing a kiss to his chin.

"I'm suddenly really thankful I have a very quiet bed frame," I said. "And a foam mattress."

"Not gonna lie, this bed is nice as fuck."

"Better than the couch?" I asked.

"Yeah. Mostly because I'm partial to the company," he said, his arms going tightly around me.

God, I couldn't agree more.

A part of me wanted to stay awake just to enjoy the feeling of being close to him, of feeling his strong arms around me.

But the comfort of his closeness meant that I was out cold within a few minutes.

And slept more soundly than I had in years.