CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I WAS TOO into my thoughts to concentrate. I missed the exit from the expressway to my house half a dozen times.
The smell of dinner and a whole new set of furniture with sleek, clean lines and darker hues greeted me as I entered the house.
Calind sat at the head of the dining room table, waiting for me. His dimpled grin and gorgeous face made me forget I had been in the middle of a horror movie earlier.
“When did you find the time?” I asked, my voice floating on a breeze carrying butterflies and rainbows.
“I didn’t. My assistant did.” He rose from the table and stalked to me.
I waffled, thinking I wouldn’t be able to walk because I was concentrating too hard on everything except what I wanted to think about to walk in my heels. I kept trying to empty my thoughts. It was a pointless exercise. I always joked that Calind could read my mind, but I never thought he actually could.
He paused at the end of the dining room table and pulled out a chair for me. “I promise I’m not in the mood to bite…yet.” He reached over the table, grabbed a bottle of wine, and poured it into the glass placed above my silverware. He grasped the stem of the glass and offered it. “Seems you need this.”
I straightened the hem of my tube skirt and approached him. I plucked the glass from his hands and drained it in four swallows.
“You weren’t supposed to gulp it down like an alcoholic fresh from a failed stint of going dry. I wanted you to taste it.” One of his strong arms hooked around my waist and brought me closer. His cool lips teased my jaw before doing things to my mouth that made me forget to remain composed.
He moaned and licked his lips. “Can’t understand why they rejected the blend.”
“Huh?” Bewildered, I eyed him for any hints of knowledge of my adventure in horror-land.
“Private label. Had a few meetings with restaurateurs and club owners today. Most went well. One particular meeting did not.”
I sat in the chair he offered while eyeing my meal.
He took a seat across the table and clasped his hands in prayer position on top of the table. “How was the excursion? Uneventful?”
The way his eyes darkened, I knew he knew. “H-how?”
“How what, Regan?” he questioned with a deepened pitch rumbling through the quiet space between us. “How do I know you were in proximity with a mutilated corpse? How do I know what the police don’t—there were two other men who died in the alley tonight?” He inhaled deeply, his frown deepening. “Your clothes are carrying the familiar scent of a man I warned you to never see again.”
“It’s not like I had a choice, Calind. He kind of showed up out of nowhere and defended me.”
“Did he?” The curtness in his voice was enough to make my knees buckle.
“W-what?” I stuttered through my shock. “Was it you in the alley tonight, protecting me?”
He didn’t reply.
I shook my head, recalling what June had said and thinking Executive Suites was mind-fucking me right now. “The injections you’ve been giving me, are they blood? Your blood?”
His trademark silence answered me.
“Well, they looked like blood. The things you can do? What are you?”
He leaned forward, his ebony eyes widening but somehow still darkening. “What do you think I am, Regan?”
“I can’t believe I’m having this conversation,” I whispered to my chest. “After today, you don’t have to worry about me wandering off in dark alleys by myself again. Lesson learned. That’s what it was, right? An expensive, gory makeup lesson. It looked very realistic.” I couldn’t stop shaking and had to bury my hands in between my legs to steady them.
“Recommit to your promise,” he demanded. “Never see Emile again. If he confronts you further, walk away,”
I shifted in my chair. “What the fuck does any promise or Emile matter at this point?”
He slammed his palms flat on the table, causing it to split in the middle. Everything on top slid into the crack and tumbled to the floor. The table collapsed, separating.
I stared at the damage with my jaw on the ground and remained motionless. “I-I don’t know what you wanted me to do. I saw a way out and I took it.”
“Regan, this is what you misunderstand. Emile set a trap for you.” He leaned forward. A look so intense it exacerbated my shudders crossed his face. “I shouldn’t have ignored what I foresaw. Returning here was a bad idea.”
“Foresaw? Weren’t you fucking with me about reading my mind? Not only am I supposed to believe you’re telepathic, but also clairvoyant?”
“This isn’t the time,” he chided me. “You need to leave. You won’t go alone. I’ll send my best to accompany you and protect you—to ensure your safety.”
“Not just no—hell fucking no. Don’t you ever watch horror movies? The ‘let’s separate’ idea never fucking works out. I’m not going anywhere without you.”
“When did you think a democracy existed between us? You’re leaving town, and if you’re planning on meeting with Emile before I send you away, don’t. I forbid it.”
“Sending me away? Forbidding me? Are you seriously fucking forbidding me?”
“Without question.”
“I don’t deserve answers? I don’t deserve to know what those men were? What you are? What the hell is going on?”
“Your history with Emile has clouded your judgment. You trust him easily. Think he means you well. What has he done for you, compared to what I have? His answers—whatever he tells you—won’t accomplish what you think they will. Here, it pays in happiness to be oblivious.”
It wasn’t fucking right. My mind was in a tailspin, and he was being a jealous bitch.
“A jealous bitch? My emotions reach beyond that of an immature adult. Every action I make is strategic—to protect you.”
He could honestly read my thoughts? What the actual hell? “Stop!” I scooted my chair backward as though the distance could make him stop digging into my head. “I can take care of myself.”
“As you could in the alley?”
“Between Emile and…I’m not asking permission for anything I do outside of our sex games. Stop trying to expand your territory.”
“Are you listening to a thing I’ve said, Regan? Emile is a danger to you. You may think you know who he is, but you don’t.”
I stared at the mess on the floor, wishing the wine bottle hadn’t shattered. I could’ve downed the whole thing right now. “The thing about it is, you’re the only one telling me not to trust him when there are so many other things telling me not to trust you.”
“Regan.” His voice fell into a deep octave and delved into that accent I couldn’t place with a particular origin. Pieces of the table went flying in opposing directions. One end slammed against the wall, splintering. The impact created massive cracks in the drywall. The other half flew into the living room, ruining the brand new couch.
I was going out of my mind and had serious regrets over casually committing to the unbelievable, which fucked over my life.
Calind was right. Ignorance paid in happiness.
With neither moving to clean up the mess, the silence cut between us.
I slid my chair back and approached my bag, still in the foyer. I retrieved a cigarette, had trouble getting it out of the bag thanks to my jittery hands, and headed out the back of the house to sit by the pool.
It was hard to smoke with my hand trembling wildly. I took longer than normal to smoke it to the filter. I remained outside until the lights grew dark, and I found a reason to be less afraid of the man inside the house.
The sun had come up by the time I went back inside and convinced myself this was what Mr. Paré advised would come to fruition. I was to be an actress, playing my part in believing it was real.
I’d practically convinced myself.
Calind was in the bedroom, lying in bed, half underneath a sheet with his forearm over his eyes while he rested on his back. Given the imprint his cock made underneath the bed sheets, I knew he was naked. The muscles in his abs, arms, shoulders, and chest flexed.
I disrobed, tossing my clothes onto the floor, and crawled up the length of the bed. While straddling Calind’s lap, I traced the muscles on his body before settling my palm against his square jaw.
He removed his arm and covered my hand with his own.
I searched his face, a face I had stared at for so many days and so many nights I knew it with my eyes closed. A face I thought was a beautiful reality.
Calind had done nothing to make me fear for my life, no matter what or who he was. Besides, I would die soon anyway. I could trust him. We couldn’t do the things we did unless there was trust between us.
“I know what you’re worried about—”
“You’re being naïve about what Emile wants,” Calind cut into my need to placate him. “I don’t understand your desire for more when you’re provided with everything you need.”
“Maybe at one point, I wanted to die ignorant. After what happened in that alley…” I bowed my head. “What I saw you do tonight and what I’ve seen you do? I have to know what this is.”
“Why?”
“To know if this—” I pointed at him and myself, “is real.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Emile’s information won’t come without a price.”
“I know.”
“What if I’m the cost?”
I slid off him and onto the bed, pretending to fall asleep.
There was only one answer: Calind wasn’t a price I’d ever be willing to pay.
Calind slid behind me, his bare chest pressed against my back. His fingertips traced the length of my arm. “I never lost sight of all I promised you. Don’t fail to remember that.” His weight shifted off the bed.
My body rolled onto the floor. I landed short of the large area rug with a hard thud.
Calind had removed the sheets from the bed, leaving the mattress bare.
“What the hell, Calind?” I bolted up to stand with my hands on my hips.
He pressed a finger to his lips, directing me to quiet.
The instant I saw the look he gave me, I slouched my posture, relenting, turning into his bitch.
He sauntered to the closet and retrieved one of his dress shirts. He plodded toward me and slipped my body into it, fastening a single button at my torso, leaving the curvature of my breasts exposed. Returning to the other side of the bed, he thumbed his lips, remaining pensive as he stared at the bed.
“Permission to speak.”
He lifted a brow, appearing amused by my request. “Permission granted.”
“Of all the times to do this, why are you doing this now?”
“The current circumstances are irrelevant. You broke yet another promise, and need a reminder of what you should feel for me and what I am to you.”
He didn’t need to say which promise I broke. Never fear him.
His eyes darted to the bed. “What are you waiting for, sweetheart? Fix it.”
I kept a stray eye on him, wondering where the game led as I snatched the fitted sheet from the floor at his side of the bed. I bent over, preparing to place the sheet on the mattress. As I stooped, the shirt slid up and exposed my pussy.
Calind’s abrupt placement of his hand on my spine made me gasp. He pushed me until my breasts pressed against the bed. With a flat open palm, he smacked my ass so hard the pain ran up my spine. “That’s the wrong way, sweetheart. You’re not taking this seriously. Do it on your knees.”
I adjusted my position. A hand landed on my sensitive flesh in the same spot he hit me before, making me yelp. The sensation wrapped around my ass and stung the fat lips of my pussy.
He took a step back, watching me as I went on my knees. I fit one end at the foot of the bed and tucked it under the mattress. I repeated my steps until I had four corners tucked. Now on the opposite side of him, I walked in his direction while on my knees.
“Stand there,” he ordered me while pointing to a spot near the bed. “On your feet. Place your hands flat on the bed.”
I did as told. The shirt hung forward, exposing a view of my breasts.
Instead of staring at my tits as I wished he would have, he stared at the bed, perplexed. “If you had done it correctly, there wouldn’t be wrinkles in the sheets.”
“Then, let me do it the right way.”
He walked over and slapped me on the ass so hard, I fell forward. “Try again.”
“May I do it again, Mr. Glace?” I asked through my teeth.
“No. You fucked up your second chance. I won’t allow a third.” He walked back to the opposite side. His hand skipped across his torso, grazing the only hair he had on his upper body, the long, neat strip of jet-black that extended from his belly button to his trim pubic hair. He gripped his thickness in one hand. His pre-cum emerged, drizzled over the head, and served as a gloss.
My lips parted, ready to suck him dry. Uncomfortable and fighting with a hunger I didn’t know if he’d sate, I drooled as he stroked his shaft and squeezed the head. I wanted that gorgeousness in my mouth and inside me, and I didn’t want to wait for it.
“How badly do you want me to fuck you?” His question was a sexually-charged utterance.
I squeezed my legs together in a useless attempt to make the burn go away. “Very badly,” I croaked.
“Why do you deserve it when you’re continually a bad girl?”
Damn, he drove me insane. One moment I feared him. Another moment, I wanted to tear him apart. The next moment, I wanted his cock to damn near live inside me.
“I-I’m sorry. I wanted to…” I paused and watched him stroke his thickness harder and faster. The muscles in his torso clenched, revealing deeper cuts in his eight-pack.
“You were saying?” His question was supposed to lead me back on the path, but his dimpled grin made sure I stayed far away from it.
I attacked my bottom lip with my teeth to make it behave and stay still. “I want to fuck you,” slipped past my lips.
“Run that by me once more.” A thick black brow raised his forehead.
“I want to please you.”
“Then why do you keep fucking with me?”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. My eyes watered. The wanton ache between my legs bordered on excruciating.
Holding me in his gaze, he stroked his cock wildly. He slipped forward with one hand against the flat of the bed. Heavy lids obscured my view of his deep brown eyes. He groaned and came on the sheets. Some of his cum spilled onto my fingers, making me lick my lips, desperate for a taste.
He rolled his neck and took a long, shuddering breath as he stood tall. His eyes rolled up, fixing on me through his dark lashes. “Clean up the mess.”
I fought the urge to lick my fingers and slid backward to get paper towels from the kitchen.
He reprimanded me with the cluck of his tongue before I had the chance to reach the doorway of the bedroom. “With your mouth.”
Turning around, I kneeled on the bed. Opening my mouth and crouching forward, I sucked and slurped up the sweet, tangy liquid from the sheets and my hand. Once done, I looked up at him with expectancy.
“You missed a spot.” His gaze darted to his erection.
Remaining on fours, I crawled on the bed. He withdrew, walked around the bed, and slapped my ass several times with quick succession.
I cursed with my lips pursed together, so sick with want I would’ve done anything to get a taste. “Please, please let me make it up to you.” My pitch was high and tight. My ass was sore. I was sure I wouldn’t be able to sit without a twinge of pain for a few days.
He sat in the wingback chair next to the window, watching me. “Crawl, and when you get here, convince me.”
I slid off the bed and crawled to him on my hands and knees. I positioned myself between the gap in his legs. “May I please, please make it up to you?” I repeated the question enough times to make my mouth dry.
He nodded after my fourteenth plea.
I moved my hands first. He grabbed them, pinning my hands behind my back. He pressed in and up, forcing me to sit on the back of my heels. His other hand slipped to my jaw, my neck, and finally to my nape.
His touch sent little electrical signals straight to the part that couldn’t take any more teasing without a release.
He inclined his body, allowing me easier access. I manipulated the tip of his cock with my lips, taking his entire length inside my mouth until I couldn’t breathe, and my gag reflex wanted to rebel. I held it there, gagging on his cock, until my torture earned a sexy moan.
He slipped his hand into my hair to hold the back of my head. My mouth worked, sliding on his thick cock, stretching my lips and taxing my jaw.
Moving with a ferocious force, I worked my neck and mouth. My tongue tickled the throbbing vein on the underside of his shaft. I went faster, taking him inside my mouth until my lips met his pubic hair. My chin touched his testicles, and my saliva coated him.
Clutching my head, he rolled his hips up and openly fucked my mouth. The head tickled the back of my throat and stole my ability to breathe.
The flow of liquid warmth scratched my throat and threatened to make me choke. I sucked and swallowed it back like it was a drug.
“Did I make it up to you?” I asked, struggling to catch my breath.
He pulled my hair, forcing me to separate from him. “Not enough to deserve your reward.”
I dropped my lids, my eyes watering. I clenched my teeth, pissed he had me so strung out I was crying for relief. What the hell had he done?
He lifted my chin, revealing a slow, crooked grin.
I was stuck between wanting to kiss his dimples and slapping the shit out of him, and I didn’t know what he found so amusing.
“I’ve finally broken you, sweetheart. You would do anything to have my cock inside you.” He thumbed my lips and pressed in, forcing my lips to part. “Wouldn’t you?”
“Y-yes.”
“Are you ready for your reward?”
“Please,” I responded, relief washing over me and relaxing my posture.
He grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me up to stand, and tossed me on the bed. With my legs sprawled out, he lowered his mouth to my pussy, latching onto my aching lips and tonguing my clit.
I cursed the ceiling as my legs shook. I was hot and ready, approaching the verge in record-breaking time.
“Oh, fuck, baby!” I rubbed my pussy against his mouth, hurrying along my orgasm. My hands slipped into his hair, clutching harshly as the rush filled my body and exploded.
I rattled against the bed, coming hard, as liquid trailed the crux of my thighs. He wrapped his arms around my thighs, unrelenting, sucking hard on my clit until I was screaming at the top of my lungs.
The soft little nub became sensitive to every other suck, making me feel as though I was coming in rapid cycles. His fingers joined his mouth, sliding into my pussy, thrashing inside me and manipulating the internal ridge that drove me crazy. He brought me to an orgasm, again and again, sucking, licking, thrusting his fingers inside me until I was a mess and juices soaked my ass.
He released me, kissing my wet inner thighs. “I’m not fucking you. You haven’t earned that yet, sweetheart.”
If he pushed his cock inside me, I might have passed out before I came.
Calind slipped on top me and kissed my other weak, quivering lips.
AS I SAT on the patio, chain-smoking the dark early morning hours away, too many things were gnawing at me. They bothered me enough to bring on an ulcer.
The morning sun rose over the horizon, making my eyes sting. I plopped on my large, dark shades.
Calind slipped out on the patio and stood beside the cushioned wicker sectional while wearing the blackest sunglasses I’d ever seen.
“How long have you been able to do—” my fingers whirled around my head, “that mind-reading thing you do?”
“Since the moment you couldn’t stop undressing me with your eyes at Executive Suites.”
I found my footing, standing to face him. “Great. Well, now you know. I’m not hiding anything. Since you’re in my brain, I can’t hide. Give me a break. I changed the course of my life months back. It uprooted everything I knew, everything I thought I felt. I’m still working on it.”
“You were living a lie, Regan,” Calind said. “A false sense of a world you never should’ve believed.”
“I get it. Nothing is an illusion.” I stressed my sarcasm by doing the magic-hands. I instantly felt stupid and rested my hands on my sides. “You don’t have to keep hammering at me about it.”
“Are you meeting with Emile again?”
I remained cagey in response. “I haven’t decided.”
He glanced at his watch and turned on his heels, heading back inside and toward the front door.
I jumped up, rubbing my sore ass along the way and followed him back inside the house. “Calind, what’s the problem?”
“It’s a long drive to the vineyard, and I can’t be late. I have back-to-back meetings all morning.”
“What is it I’m supposed to do here? He was my only friend.”
His entire face tensed as he stared at the floor for too many moments. Intense brown eyes drifted up to mine. “You were in love with him.”
He took the breath from my voice, and it took some time to recover. “Is that what this is about? You think I was—am in love with him? Shit, I don’t know if I ever was. We fucked, but it’s all we ever did. We never had a deep moment, besides that one time his dick—”
Calind cleared his throat, ending my overshare. “You don’t know if you were in love with him?” His question was deliberate and strained, as though he didn’t understand the language I used.
In reaction, I fidgeted.
His eyes followed every tick of my movements.
For some reason or another, I couldn’t fight the feeling Calind assumed Emile and I had shared some great love, and I never recovered from the loss. “Calind? I was never in love with Emile. That’s a fucking promise. What else should I do to prove you’re the only one I want, and that you don’t need to worry about me and Emile getting back together?”
“Show me. Allow me to handle him.”
“Not happening.”
He headed for the front door.
“Calind?” I asked, walking after him.
He disappeared into the hall and out the front door before I could catch him.