The door slams, and I glance down the hall to see Calla kicking off her shoes. She throws her keys and bag down on the hardwood floor before I have a chance to ask what happened. Stomping down the hallway to the living room, she flops onto the sofa, slumps into the couch, and places her feet up on the coffee table.

“What happened?” I ask, coming out of her spare bedroom and taking a seat next to her.

She mumbles an explanation, but I can only decipher one word. “Men!”

I chuckle and rub my eyes with my left thumb and forefinger then push off the couch and walk to the kitchen. I open and close several cabinet doors, trying to remember where she has moved the wine glasses. She’s reorganized the kitchen for no obvious reason. It is one of the things that I both love, and hate, about her. I take that back. There is a reason she does that kind of thing. It’s one of the ways she blows off steam. I finally find two glasses then search the drawers for the corkscrew. The audible pop of the cork makes Calla jump, and she turns toward the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” she grumbles.

I pour the wine before walking back to the living room with two glasses in one hand, and the bottle in the other.

“You've had quite a day. So, we are going to have a drink.”

“You only know the half of it.” She takes a glass from me then takes a long sip. “You picked my favorite Zin. What if I was saving that for something special?”

“Were you?”

“No... but you didn’t know that.”

I shake my head. “True, but it’s not like we can’t easily get you another one. So, tell me about the rest of your day.”

Calla takes another long sip of her wine as I sit back on the couch, waiting for her to explain. But she keeps drinking. When I look at her glass, it's almost empty. I reach for the bottle and gesture to ask if she wants more. She holds out her glass, and I refill it generously. As I lean back, I place my arm on the back of the couch behind her. She snuggles into my side, and I release a long sigh of contentment.

“Ran into Max and Caleb. They were making out with their bitchy hostess. I know I shouldn’t be upset. I broke things off with Max, but I don’t need to see the beginning of an ménage à trois as I’m walking from my car to the door.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve watched that.” I chuckle, and she backhands my chest.

“Is that something you’re into?” She faces me.

I squeeze her shoulder. I’m not sure how to answer the question truthfully. Because yes, I’d be into watching. But it’s not something I’d do if I was in a relationship with her. I wouldn’t share Calla. Ever.

“That’s a tricky question. I would’ve watched. And I’ll be honest, Zoe liked to be shared. But that doesn’t mean I’d have that kind of relationship with another woman. Sharing isn’t something that I typically do.”

In one gulp, she finishes her glass of wine. She sits up, setting her glass on the table, and I do the same. Calla begins refilling our glasses, but I stop her. Pulling her into my arms, I simply hold her.

“Is there something so wrong with me that the last two guys I dated wanted a non-traditional relationship with a woman that was not me?” she questions as tears begin to fill her eyes.

“You know it’s not like that. Calla, you’re beautiful. For some reason, you just tend to attract men that like that lifestyle. I’m not sure why they don’t feel confident in making you a part of that side of themselves. Granted, Max is a different story than Torrance, and he might have tried to bring you in after a while. But he probably would have wanted to share you.”

She sniffles. “I don’t think I would’ve done that. Not sure I ever could.”

“You never have to. Being vanilla is great, if that’s who you are. But you have to figure that out for yourself.”

We sit like this for what seems like an hour. That is, until Baggie jumps up on Calla’s lap demanding love. He practically stands on her lap to bump his head against her chin. It is one of the cutest things I have seen the little shit do. And that’s saying something, since I was with her when Ben brought him home to her. I was actually shocked that he had picked a cat for her instead of a dog. But with our schedule, a cat is more practical. Not to mention, this cat is more like a dog, so that probably had something to do with it. I scratch under his chin, and he settles in her lap as she pets him from between his ears, down to his tail.

His little body vibrates as he purrs. Baggie isn’t a quiet cat. His purrs, at least when he gets going like he is now, are quite loud. I’ve even heard him over the phone before.

“Thanks, Wes,” Calla finally responds as if she is coming out of a fog.

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

Her brows furrow as she glances up at me. Normally, it's Trey that uses words of endearment like that, but tonight I feel the need to start using them. I never used them on Zoe, and Calla knows that, so I understand why she gives me the confused look. I also understand where she was coming from the other day when she said she wasn’t sure about our kiss.

“Ow!”

Pulled out of my thoughts, I see Baggie jump off her lap.

“What did the little shit do?”

“Nipped at me. I wasn’t petting all the way to his tail, so he was done getting loved on.”

I chuckle, but check her hand. She waves me off.

“Is there any more wine in the bottle, or did I finish it off already?”

I sit forward and grab the bottle. “Almost empty.”

“You hungry?”

“I could eat a little something.”

We both rise from the couch and head to the kitchen. Placing our glasses in the sink, we scavenge for food.

“You and your quasi-healthy eating sucks. We need to get some real snacks in this place,” I complain.

“What the fuck? Normally I have something. Crap. I think we finished them off the last time you and Trey were here. Damn.”

I laugh. “Figures. We were really hungry after that run. Hell, we could’ve eaten the rest after yesterday's run too.”

“Good point.” Shoulders slumping, she says, “I’m just going to bed then. Night.”

“Night.” I watch as she heads to her bedroom. As soon as she is out of sight, I make my way to the spare room.

My sleep is restless, and I can't get comfortable. There isn't enough room in my brain to contain the entire herd of sheep I have been counting. I can't get Calla out of my head. Just as my brain blissfully falls into REM sleep, there’s a gentle rapping on the door that gets louder and louder, pulling me from my slumber.

I jolt awake.

Rubbing my face I hear the knock again. “Come in,” I call.

The handle turns, but the door doesn't open. Fuck, did I lock the door? I didn't last night. I move to slide out of bed when the door slowly begins to open.

“Wes, can I come in?” Callas whispers, peeking her head in.

I feel a bit wolfish, having her come in with me barely dressed. She doesn’t care. She simply wants my company, and I am happy to oblige her.

“I can't sleep,” she explains, her arms crossing over her chest.

At this moment, she looks completely submissive. I am definitely not going to squander an opening like this, especially with the girl I’ve wanted to dominate for years. She’ll need gentle persuasion, I’m sure, but once I crack this door, she’s going to help me kick it wide open.

“Get in,” I say, tossing the bed covers up in invitation.

Calla smiles and doesn’t hesitate for a second. She tiptoes across the room, crawls right in my bed, and snuggles into my chest. Dropping the covers, I wrap my arms around her, pull her in closer, and inhale her sweet scent, slipping into the moment of comfort that we both feel. Calla curls herself into a ball, one arm sliding under the pillow where my head is resting, while placing her free hand on top of mine. Settling in, she lets out a soft sigh.

Alarms are ringing in my head like a five-alarm fire. What the fuck am I doing? Ben will kick my ass if I fuck her!

Yet, at the same time, I really want her... damn the consequences. Every dominant knows that some submissives require patience while you break them in. And while I’m positive Calla's a switch, her submissive side is a ticking time bomb that could blow up in my face. There is something just too tempting about the forbidden though, and Calla is definitely that.

While I’d love to stay noble for her, and Ben for that matter, everything in me is screaming to say screw it. Ben and my brothers be damned. Would they really kill me since she’s the one coming to me in the middle of the night? What the fuck am I supposed to do, kick her to the curb? Maybe if I tell Ben she was distraught? No, he’ll still kick my ass… but it will be fucking worth it.

“Calla?” I whisper quietly. I’m definitely going to have to tell the fire chief in my brain to turn off the fucking sirens. I’m already suffering pangs of guilt, but the little bastard with the horns on my shoulder is having a field day knocking the dude with the halo off his perch. One way or another, I have to extinguish my desire... and growing erection. I’ll figure out how to deal with the consequences afterwards.

Her breathing slows and evens out with every rise and fall of her chest. She’s sound asleep. At this exact moment, she’s beyond fucking beautiful. And she is in my bed. Fuck me! I gradually lean my own head against the back of hers. My lips lightly touch Calla's neck in a slow circle of gentle kisses. I just want to be everything for her, even in her sleep. I need her to know I’m here, and I am not going to hurt her. With one last kiss, my eyes grow heavy, and I fall back to sleep.