Chapter 38
Calida
We didn’t speak during the car ride to his house. I kept expecting him to say something, to question why I wanted to leave, but he didn’t. When we arrived, he reached into the backseat to grab my bag.
“If I’d known I was having guests, I would have cleaned,” he commented as he led me into the house.
“It’s okay. Besides, I lived with your sister. The entire house was her closet and hamper.”
“I’m not that bad, but cleaning is one thing I do like to put off till the last minute.”
He flipped the switch in the hall, which flooded the dark house with light. I was expecting some sort of college frat house mess, but it wasn’t even close. A few dishes piled in the sink, what looked like a week’s worth of mail was scattered on the island, and a few items of clothing, mostly shirts and socks, on the floor and couch.
“You should be on the next episode of Hoarders.”
“You’re such a comedian.”
“I know. I should take my act on the road.”
“Right. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. I’m gonna take your bag upstairs.”
I watched as he walked away. Once he was out of sight, I headed into the kitchen. Pulling open the dishwasher, I discovered it was empty, so I proceeded to load the dishes.
All the feelings I had the first day I walked into this house were still there. It felt homey and had a warmth to it my own house lacked. I didn’t have that underlying anxious feeling when I was here compared to when I was home. I could never fully relax there. Even when faced with the expectations Mal had for his house and our relationship, I was more at ease here. Our relationship. I was in a relationship with Malcolm, one I wasn’t looking for a way out of now.
I rinsed my hands off once I finished loading the dishwasher realizing, Malcolm hadn’t come back yet. I picked up the few items of clothing and headed up the stairs in search of him. He sat on his bed, shirtless, head hanging down and resting in his hands.
“Are you okay?”
He seemed startled by my voice. “Yeah.” His eyes went to the clothes in my arms. “You cleaning up after me?”
I shrugged. “I was coming up anyway, easy enough to bring them. I, um, cleaned the kitchen, too. Well, loaded the dishwasher anyway.”
He gave a slight laugh as he got off the bed. “Thanks, you didn’t have to do that.”
“I know, I just did it.”
He took the clothes from me then headed into the bathroom. It could have been my imagination, but it felt like the air was different between us. He seemed to be in deep thought about something when I entered.
“The bathroom will hopefully pass your strict standards,” he joked when he came back. “You can head in there to change or do whatever nightly routine you might have.”
“Are you annoyed that I’m here?” I blurted out before I could think twice about it.
His eyes widened before his brow crinkled. “Never. Why would you think that?”
“Because when I came up here, you looked...I don’t know, you just seemed unhappy or something. Never mind. I’m being stupid. Forget I said anything.”
I moved to grab my bag off the bench at the foot of the bed and found myself wrapped in Malcolm’s arms.
“I want you to live with me, Ginger. That’s where I hope we’ll eventually get to. Until then, I’m more than happy to give you as many sleepovers as your heart desires.”
My hands came up to caress his biceps. I gave them a squeeze. “I like your arms,” I said, squeezing them again.
His arm tensed, causing his muscles to contract.
“Show off.” My hands moved over to his chest before I stretched up to give him a quick kiss. “Sorry.”
“For what?”
“Um, earlier, at my house. Just now...I always feel like I’m flaking out on you.” My fingers played with the curly patch of hair on his chest.
“You apologize entirely too much for no reason.”
A simple statement. One that was most likely true. And I was sure he didn’t mean anything by it—he wasn’t trying to be mean—but it didn’t stop the anxious, self-conscious feeling from creeping in.
“Sor…” I stopped myself and attempted to pull away.
Malcolm’s arms were locked in place, preventing me from making an escape. He didn’t say anything. He simply held me there. I swallowed hard, closed my eyes, and started counting in my head. My hands curled into fists against his chest. His hands wrapped around them. I really wished he’d say something, crack some sort of joke, but he didn’t. I didn’t fight it. I didn’t try to pull away. It wasn’t until I felt his hand on my face that I finally opened my eyes. Fearing he’d be angry, I was too nervous to look up at him.
“Old habits,” I whispered and mustered up the courage to face him.
Patience. That’s what was written all over his face. Calm, collected patience. Something that should’ve put me at ease, but it only served to make me feel more like an idiot.
“To stay ahead of the trouble, or try to at least. Apologizing is second nature.” I rambled on.
“Calida, I’m your man, not your daddy. I don’t dole out punishments, so you don’t need to apologize for speaking your mind or expressing yourself. Nothing you say or do will result in you being in trouble, whatever the hell that means. And especially never in relation to you talking about how you feel about anything.” He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on my lips. “Now, go get ready for bed.”
I jumped when he gave me a playful smack on my ass as he walked away. I picked up my bag and hurried into the bathroom, careful not to slam the door. I dropped my bag onto the counter and covered my face with my hands.
“God, why am I such a freak?” I mumbled to myself.
Why was I constantly doing or saying the wrong thing? But I wasn’t imagining his mood. There was something on his mind when I walked upstairs. There had to be a reason he was just sitting there instead of coming back down.
I shook my head as I unzipped my bag. “Just let it go, Calida. It’s been a long day. He’s probably just tired.” I started laughing quietly. “I’ve really lost it. I’m in here having a full conversation with myself.”
When I exited the bathroom, I dropped my bag on the floor beside the door. Malcolm sat at the foot of the bed, wearing a pair of dark blue basketball shorts. When he stood, my face got warm as I wondered if he wore anything beneath them.
“What are you thinking that created that blush?”
I pressed my lips together and shook my head. I was not about to voice those thoughts.
He moved toward me, slow and easy, with a mischievous smile on his face. “I can get it out of you. I know your weakness.”
Again, I shook my head, taking a slow step to the left. I had a good idea of what he had planned.
“Oh yeah. Now I really want to know.”
He lunged for me. I squealed, barely dodging him. I headed for the door, but his arms were around me. He began to tickle me, making it hard to breathe through the laughter.
“What’s in that pretty head of yours?”
“Mal…”
He picked me up, and I found myself on my back on the bed under his merciless attack. No escape. He’d trapped me between his legs as he straddled me. He was relentless, laughing at my fruitless attempts to get away.
I couldn’t take it anymore. My sides hurt. “St...stop...you win…”
He stopped almost instantly, and shifted so his full body weight wasn’t holding me down, but the contact remained. One leg was thrown over the lower half of my body, and one arm laid across my stomach. I stared up at the ceiling, attempting to catch my breath. He propped himself up with his other hand. The weight on my stomach lifted, and his fingers brushed my overgrown bangs out of my face. His warm hand travelled down to my jaw, turning my head to face him.
“That wasn’t very nice of you.”
He looked happy and playful when he answered. “Not my fault you’re extra ticklish.”
“I’ll get you back for that.”
“Bring it on, baby.”
I shoved him, and he started laughing as he fell to his back. “I should make you sleep on the couch.”
We repositioned ourselves so we were facing each other.
He frowned. “You wouldn’t be that cruel would you?”
“Probably not. The last good night’s sleep I’ve had I got here.”
A cocky smile spread across his face. He put his hand on my waist and pulled me closer to his body. “Is that so?”
“Yeah...but it could just be the bed, so maybe you can sleep on the couch, and I won’t have to share.”
“Ouch! You know how to wound a man.”
I laughed. “That’s what you get.”
“Fair enough. But…” His fingers slipped under my shirt, softly gliding across the skin on my waist. “You still haven’t told me what was on your mind.”
Instinctively, I grabbed his hand before he could tickle me again. “Don’t you dare or you will be on the couch!”
Malcolm smiled, then leaned forward to kiss the tip of my nose. “Guess I’ll play nice then.”
“Thank you. And fair is fair...but you have to tell me what you were thinking about when I first came up here.”
I bit my lip, mentally kicking myself for bringing it up again. I’d just had a whole conversation with myself about letting it go. When the smile on his face faltered, I really regretted saying anything.
Malcolm repositioned us both, pulling me to his chest as he wrapped his arm around me. He then reached up to turn off the lamp, bathing the room in darkness. Crap! Was this his way of signaling it was the end of the conversation? Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut?
His fingers stroked my arm, and I swallowed the apology that was on the tip of my tongue.
“I’m waiting,” he said through a muffled yawn.
“Oh. I have to go first?”
“Yep.”
I was glad it was dark now, so he couldn’t see me blush again. “Um...well…” I took a breath. “I wondered if you wore anything under your shorts,” I blurted out.
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t even laugh. I felt him searching around until he found my arm. Moments later, I got my answer when my hand was placed inside his pants right on his penis. It came to life almost instantly at the contact.
My first thought was to pull away, but instead my fingers closed around his thickness. “You could have just said no.”
“Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have your hand on my dick.”
I didn’t need to see his face to know he was most likely smiling at his comment. My hand slid up, and I let my thumb graze across the tip. His breath stilled. That emboldened me. I gave a slight squeeze as I let my hand slide down his length again.
“Ginger…”
“Hmm?”
Malcolm pulled my hand from his pants, and had me on my back, devouring my lips before I even processed what happened.
He held my arms together at the wrist with one hand. He settled between my legs, and pressed his erection against me. I took a shocked gulp of air when he moved to kiss my neck. He nibbled and sucked the flesh there. His hips rocked forward. My eyes squeezed shut. His hand went under my shirt, and palmed my breast. His fingers pinched my nipple. His weight pressed me into the mattress. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. My mind went blank.