SHELBY RAN HER hand down Callen’s body and smiled when she reached his erection. “I think I found my Christmas present.”
He smiled, too, all sleepy and slow, and he kissed her as he woke up. She figured the “morning wood” wasn’t especially for her but more of just a man thing. But since Callen was naked in her bed—and it was Christmas morning—then she was going to claim it all as her own.
Callen accommodated her.
Perhaps because she was stroking him, he became fully awake. Fully aroused, too, and it wasn’t just because of the man thing. No, that look was for her. And what a look it was. Even first thing in the morning, Callen was hot, and the stubble and heavily lidded eyes only added to that.
What would it be like to wake up every morning just like this? She supposed it would be like having a Christmas every single day. Both romantic and a little depressing, but neither had time to take root because Callen flooded her with foreplay.
He dipped his head under the cover and kissed her breasts, and the pleasure shot through her. It shoved aside the playfulness. Shoved aside her breath and coherent thoughts, too. And he feasted on her.
Yeah, this was an awesome Christmas present.
As usual, his kisses, no matter where they landed, ended up driving her crazy enough that she started pulling at him. A condom wouldn’t be a problem because he’d put some on the nightstand, and she grabbed one of the foil wrappers and thrust it under the cover at him.
He chuckled, took it, but continued more of those now-maddening kisses. The man certainly knew how to use his tongue. And his hands. She got a reminder of that as well when he trailed his fingers up her body. Still teasing. Still not putting on that condom.
“Just giving you more of that Christmas present,” he drawled.
The teasing was incredible. No doubt about it. A body-soaring delight. But the only “more” she wanted right now was his sheathed inches inside her. Perhaps her urgent whimpers and moans let Callen know that because he finally made his way back up to her mouth.
He passed the condom back to her. “Put it on me,” he said.
She’d never done that before, but Shelby soon figured out why he’d asked. It freed up his hands to touch her. Specifically, to slide his fingers into her.
Shelby cursed in two languages. Possibly three if you counted pig latin. And she got a different kind of proof. That he knew how to use his hands as well as his clever tongue.
No way could she manage the condom with her body writhing and seeking an orgasm that she didn’t want to have yet. So she used one hand to clamp around his erection and tore open the wrapper with her teeth as she’d seen him do.
And the fun began.
Oh yes. This was payback. She just wasn’t very good at getting the condom on him, of course. That meant lots and lots of touching. Some sliding, too, and she wondered why this didn’t result in more hand jobs. Callen must have realized that could happen without his assistance because he took over the task. He had it on and plunged inside her in under two seconds.
She stopped writhing, and even he didn’t move for several moments. Despite the burning need and insane urgency, he went still and just looked at her. The muscles in his face were tight, gearing up for the primal mating deal. His eyes, hot. But there was something else in there, too.
And while she didn’t want to think about it, Shelby thought he was realizing this could be their last time together.
Thankfully, there was no dwelling on that, and her brain went back to its now-now-now mindless quest to get the orgasm that was already right there, chasing her down. It was impossible not to let it catch her, what with Callen at the steering wheel. It chased, caught and hurled her right over the edge of pleasure and relief.
Callen looked at her again. She could see him do that even though the climax had blurred her vision. And he was still looking at her when he let his own orgasm catch him.
“Shelby,” Callen said, and even his postorgasm mutterings were still a sexy drawl.
He kissed the little spot just below her ear, and she thought maybe he had something important to say. Maybe something to add to this whole Christmas morning experience. And he did.
“I like the way you got that condom on.”
Okay, so maybe it wasn’t a romantic spouting, but it wasn’t a sad, sloppy goodbye, either. He chuckled, nipped her earlobe with his teeth and got out of bed. She kept her eyes on his amazing butt until he disappeared into the bathroom.
Shelby checked the time—already 10:00 a.m., which meant she had to get up. In just two hours she’d be expected at the ranch to help Rosy pack the lunch they’d be taking to the hospital for Buck. His doctors had already approved the menu, and Rosy and she would be taking gifts, too. It wouldn’t be their usual Christmas around the tree and fireplace, but this was the year for different things. After all, Callen had just given her a top-notch orgasm and was now in her shower.
She would need a shower as well, but for now she pulled on a robe. This way, she could keep his scent on her a little longer. And, yes, that made her somewhat pathetic, but like the man himself, his scent was pretty incredible.
By the time she made coffee and poured herself a cup, Callen had finished in the bathroom, and much to her disappointment, he was dressed. No more looking at his butt. Well, not naked. She realized the view of that particular part of him was almost as good in his snug jeans.
He went to her, kissing her and then stealing her coffee. She didn’t mind since the kiss had been adequate payment, so she poured herself another cup.
“I need to leave soon,” he said. “I’ll stop by and see Rosy first, and then pop by Buck’s room before I go see my brothers.” His smile wasn’t so easy now. “Kace is fixing lunch, and we’re, uh, exchanging gifts.”
Her eyebrow lifted, both surprised and pleased about that. There had been some great things that had come from Callen’s trip back here, and mending fences with his brothers was one of them.
Another of those great things was, of course, Lucy and Mateo. After the reception, Callen had put red bows on the horses he’d bought for them and had made the kids very happy when he’d brought them over to do the official gifting. Callen had also said his official goodbye to the kids, since they’d be moving in with the Millhouse family today. Shelby would do her goodbyes this morning. And she wouldn’t cry.
Well, probably not.
“I have the rest of your gifts,” Callen said. He gulped down more coffee, grabbed his truck keys and headed out while adding, “Be right back.”
That was her cue to get the ones for him from beneath the Christmas tree. All six of them. And judging from the shocked look on his face when he came back in, Callen definitely hadn’t been expecting so many.
“I bought the entire shelf to the right of the door at Ted’s,” she explained. “So, you might not exactly have a use for some of the gifts. In fact, you might wonder why some of these gifts even exist.”
That eased up his expression a bit, and the playfulness was back when he kissed her and then put three wrapped boxes on the end table.
“And don’t worry—Ted wouldn’t tell me what you’d bought, so I’ll still be surprised. Open yours first,” she insisted, and she topped off their coffee while he settled onto the sofa in front of his stash.
He didn’t disappoint her when he enthusiastically tore into the paper and took out the Plexiglas cube with the puzzling object inside. It definitely fell into the “shouldn’t exist” category.
“It’s a burnt piece of ciabatta that looks like Elvis,” she explained.
He turned it, studying the burn pattern that looked like a dirty panda to her, but there was a sort of smoldering look in the panda’s eyes that could possibly be mistaken for Elvis by a poorly sighted person.
“You are so good to me,” he said, repeating what she’d said after receiving the nunchucks.
“And the goodness continues.” She handed him the next gift. A pornographic snuffbox amateurishly etched with a doggy-style copulating couple.
“Ted had that one tucked way out of sight,” she added when Callen gave her a questioning look. “This one, too.” She handed him the next gift. “Who knew that Ted had a little bit of perv in him, though he claims he thought it was an odd-shaped nunchuck.”
It was a cock ring.
Callen smiled a naughty little grin. “You bought a more interesting shelf than I did.”
“Perhaps, but withhold judgment on that until you open this one.” Shelby handed him package number four. “It’s a first-edition copy of a Dick and Jane. Apparently, they once used books like these to teach kids to read, but since it, too, was hidden on the shelf, I believe Ted thought it went along with the cock ring, copulating couple theme.”
He laughed, and Shelby had to admit that it was just as hot as the rest of him. In fact, it made her want him all over again, and, no, that didn’t have anything to do with the gift. Well, mostly it didn’t.
“And now we’re moving on to a different theme. These were in front of the other things on the shelf and are therefore not sexual.” She handed him the last two gifts.
“Too bad. You were on a roll there.” He opened the next one. A woman in a grass skirt who shook her hips in an approximation of a hula dance when you pressed the button where her navel should be. It was too stupid looking to be sexual.
The last gift also had a button, but it was no hula dancer. Be My Valentine was printed in a flowery font across the palm-sized plastic red heart that thumped, pulsed and beat when that button was pushed.
When she’d first seen it, it had made her smile, but it didn’t do that to her now. It made her a little sad. And that made her mad. She was having her dream Christmas, and no downer thoughts were allowed.
Callen helped with that when he had her sit so she could open her three gifts—the remainder of the shelf behind Ted’s cash register.
A hand-sized gumball machine.
“You know, back when I was ten, I would have killed for this,” she told him. “I used to look at it with covetous thoughts whenever we’d pass by the shop. All that gum.”
“The gum is still there,” he pointed out, but they both frowned at the scabby white powder on what was now a congealed glob of time-ravaged gumballs. “I’ll get you a fresh bag of those.”
“Thanks.” Though she would keep these. As disgusting as they looked, they were still from Callen. Still the fulfillment of a childhood wish.
“Open these two together,” he instructed.
Since she was somewhat familiar with the contents of the shelf he’d purchased, she wasn’t surprised to see the two stuffed beavers with serious overbites. They had sat front and center behind the register for as long as Shelby could remember. A very long time, considering the thick dust coating on their bushy heads and teeth.
“Where’s their barrel?” she asked. “They were always peeking out of one.”
Callen nodded. “I couldn’t see a single good reason for beavers to need a stainless-steel barrel.”
She could have pointed out there was no reason for a person to have stuffed beavers, but she opened the last gift. Yep, it was the beaver barrel, but now the lid was closed.
“I made it a memory box like the one Buck gave me,” Callen explained. “And I put a memory in it to get you started. Open it when you want to think of me.”
She thought of him without opening it when he gave her a scalding kiss and got to his feet. He gathered up his stash of gifts. “Thanks. See you later,” he said, and he headed toward the door.
“See you later,” she repeated. Simple words, the kind of thing that people said all the time. But she had to wonder if she’d get to say it to him again. Maybe the next time, it would be just goodbye.
Since she was already thinking about Callen, Shelby opened the door on the beaver barrel. And she laughed.
Inside, there was a picture. A selfie. Of a shirtless, grinning Callen.