Six Weeks Later

“Exactly how many pairs of panties do you have?” Cal’s sandpaper-and-whiskey voice rumbled, sending shivers down Kat’s spine and making her stomach turn flips. Even after dozens of phone calls and texts, she still got a little thrill when she saw his name on the screen, and now, on their nightly call, she had a sense of anticipation that she hadn’t had in years. Every night was like the best birthday and Christmas all rolled into one. “Kat? You still there?”

“Oh! Um. I don’t know exactly. A lot?” Kat eyed the lump of laundry at the end of the bed. Maybe her lingerie habit was a bit excessive. “Why are you asking how many lingerie sets I have?”

“Because, darlin’, you’ve described your panties to me every night for six weeks, and I don’t think you’ve repeated a pair.” He chuckled and quickly added, “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Well, I like variety.” Kat suddenly had a visual of looking down on Cal’s broad shoulders and him gazing up at her with a devilish smile on his handsome face as he tore into the elastic of her G-string. “And besides, I seem to remember several pairs getting ripped.”

Cal’s growly laugh shot straight to the spot between her thighs. “I promised you I’d replace them if I could see you model.”

Kat could hear Cal shifting, making himself comfortable, and she bit her lip in anticipation. It had been six weeks since she’d said goodbye to him at the airport after he’d spent a week at her apartment. Those six weeks included at least one call a day, but usually two, and countless texts. They’d gotten into a routine, and his little sounds indicated that he was settling in to get her all hot and bothered.

“So, chickadee, what do you have on for me tonight? Those little shorty-shorts? And a tank top?”

“Yes,” she whispered, and she slid her hand beneath the sleep shorts. “But I’m not wearing any of the panties.”

Cal’s breath caught. “Holy shit. Just you, those red curls, and the little shamrocks, huh? Hot damn.”

The change in his breathing told her he was stroking himself. “And what do you have for me tonight?” Kat bantered back, knowing full well he was probably stretched out in his birthday suit.

“Oh, sweetheart, I have a whole hell of a lot of affection for you. Like ten inches? Something?” When she laughed at his cheesiness, Cal huffed with mock offense. “You don’t believe me?”

“Oh, I believe you,” she replied with a little giggle.

“I like that giggle, Miss Fahey. That giggle means you’re up to something. Maybe touching yourself?”

“Mm-hmm, maybe . . .” Kat pushed her hand deeper into her sleep shorts, between her folds, lightly brushing that nub of sensitive nerves between her legs. She whispered his name.

“I wish I was there to put my mouth on you, darlin’, with my tongue where your hand is, tasting you.” Cal’s breathing became more ragged, and Kat imagined him stroking himself.

“Yes . . .”

Kat pushed three fingers into her aching core, wanting to replicate the feel of Cal’s cock buried deep inside her. Of course, it wasn’t the same without his weight pressing her into the mattress or his heat against her back as he took her from behind, but she had to make do, at least until they were in the same city again.

“I’m fingering myself, Cal. Three, ’cause it’s the only way to feel like you do.” She spread her legs wider, tilting up her ass, just like she would for him, and groaned his name as her fingers hit her G-spot.

“Fuck, lady,” he growled. “Tell me, tell me exactly what you’re doing. I wanna know.” She could hear his hand slapping his cock. God, that was so hot.

So she did. She described exactly what she was doing to herself, using language she would never otherwise use, because she liked talking dirty to him, liked how it turned him on. And she loved how liberated and empowered it made her feel, knowing that her words could control this big, headstrong man.

“I’m gonna come, darlin’,” Cal panted. “I’m gonna lose my mind if I don’t.”

He grunted and groaned, and Kat imagined locking eyes with him, watching him, because he always insisted that she look at him as he succumbed. Kat gasped as her climax roared from out of nowhere. Her legs shook as her orgasm rolled through her, leaving her body slick with sweat and wanting nothing more than to be able to roll into Cal’s embrace and smell the scent of sex on his skin.

Cal’s breathy chuckle just reminded her that he wasn’t there with her. “We are awesome together, even when we aren’t.” His voice was heavy, languid. “Damn, darlin’, I miss you.”

“I miss you, too, Cal.” Kat’s breath caught in her throat, choking on all the unsaid things between them.

“Come visit me, Kat.”

Kat squeezed her eyes shut at the desperation that seeped into his voice. “I’m trying to convince Donald to send me to Atlanta to check out some of the new clients in person, but I don’t think it’ll happen, not while Topher’s in charge of assignments.”

She could hear Cal scoff. “I really don’t like that guy.”

“I never would have known,” she said dryly. “I don’t like him much either. He used to be tolerable, you know? We got on better than a lot of divorced couples, but since his father passed, he’s changed. It’s almost as if he was on his best behavior all these years.”

“Well, it paid off, right? He’s the big dick now.”

“I suppose.”

“Darlin’, can I ask you a question?” Cal sounded impatient tonight, more so than he usually did.

“Sure, Cal. Anything.”

“Are you happy there? I mean, really happy? Don’t think about it—just tell me.”

Surprising herself, Kat blurted out the answer just as he’d asked her. “No.”

“Then why don’t you take all this comp time that you say you’re owed and get your sweet ass down here where I can love on you in person? And maybe while you’re here, you can catch your breath and figure out what you really want so you’re not having to tap-dance for assholes like Topher.”

Cal was making a lot of sense.

“So get your fine ass down here, Kat,” he pleaded. “Just for a long weekend, or even a regular weekend.”

“I . . . can’t right now, Cal. I just can’t.”

Kat sat in her dark bedroom, any post-orgasmic euphoria leached from her. This was not the way she wanted their conversation to end, so she tried to placate him. “But that’s just right now, all right? I’ll check the calendar tomorrow and try to move stuff around, okay?” She swallowed hard. “Okay?”

“Okay, darlin’.” She still heard the disappointment in Cal’s tone but brightened when he chuckled. “I had fun tonight. I’m just saying it would be a hell of a lot more fun if we were together.”

“We could always try the video thing again.”

Cal gave her a full-throated laugh then. “Oh, sugar, I don’t think either of us can handle video. I sprained my ass last time.”

Kat laughed, too. “I told you that you need a tripod.” She chuckled some more. “I’ll see what I can do, Cal. I mean it.”

“I know you do.” Cal sighed and repeated, “I know you do. I guess I’d better let you go because it’s gettin’ real late, darlin’.”

“Yeah,” Kat answered, nodding even though he couldn’t see her. “Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yep. Talk to you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

“Okay. Night, Cal Harper. Sleep tight.”

“That goes double for you, Kat Fahey.”

Kat pushed the Off button on her phone and pressed it to her chest. She wasn’t surprised when it buzzed with a text message a few seconds later. She woke up the screen and found a selfie of a bare-chested Cal, pressing two fingers to his lips. She did the same, snapped a photo, and hit Send, hoping that would stem his requests, at least for a bit.

What a whirlwind this . . . thing was, even beyond those insane initial days in Ireland. Kat still really couldn’t believe he’d gotten off his plane to Atlanta, been able to squeeze a last-second standby seat on her flight, and then spent the next seven days in Boston with her. He’d even been able to be in the same room with Topher and not punch him, which was pretty admirable considering Kat wanted to do that very thing herself.

And then there were the nights. Some nights they’d just spent talking, getting to know each other better, discussing everything under the sun. Those nights made her realize she actually really liked him. A lot. Thinking about those nights made her stomach hurt because those discussions had certainly breached “here and now” and were barreling toward “wherever and whenever” territory, and that was scary as hell.

She wasn’t sure she was ready for that, so Kat reminded herself about the other nights, the nights when he’d taken her slow and sweet, worshipping her body with kisses and caresses so soft that she’d almost cried. Then, on the flip side, he’d taken her hard and fast, where he’d pulled her hair enough to leave her scalp stinging. One night they’d even rocked the bed so hard that the slats had shifted and the mattress fell through, and they’d laughed like lunatics while he’d continued to pound her even though the mattress was tilted at a thirty-degree angle. (Take that, Sparkly Vampire.) After one such hair-pulling, mattress-rocking, back-scratching session, Cal had claimed that she’d sprained his cock. She’d laughed, but when she got up to attend to her lady business, her legs almost buckled under her and she was so deliciously sore that she could barely walk.

Kat stretched and rolled over, considering Cal’s words. She’d told herself she was going to search for a new job when she was in Ireland, and now, six weeks later, all she’d done was work her butt off at a job she didn’t really even like. For the millionth time since Cal had left, Kat considered saying “Screw it” and quitting her job with no backup. She’d never done anything like that, but then again, she’d never thrown caution to the wind and had a one-night stand with a man she’d met only hours earlier, and look how that had turned out.

“Time to put up or shut up, Fahey,” she said to herself. She checked that her alarm was set and tried to sleep.