The night feels endless until, at twenty before twelve, Callan smiles that toe-curling, smirkish smile and motions toward the doorway. A dull ache thuds in my chest as I set my drink aside, grab my clutch, and tell the other interns I’m beat and heading home.
I refrain from saying that I’m taking the CEO home with me.
The moment I step into his house, his hand leading me inside, he stretches an arm out and shuts the door.
He kisses me, hard. Possessive. Driving his tongue as deep as he wants, his hands massaging my bum as he presses me back against the door.
I pull free and meet his hot gaze. I catch my breath, our eyes holding. I push him back a few steps, past the foyer and to the middle of his living room. Then I lower myself to my knees, and his chest expands as he holds his breath, his eyes on fire.
I take him out and run my tongue over him, watching his face. But it feels so intimate and I’m so engrossed with the hard velvet feel of him and taste of him, I close my eyes and simply suck him, not even for his pleasure but my own selfish one.
I’m dangerously
unashamedly
nymphomaniacally
in love with this big cock.
He shifts and pulls me up to my feet, scooping me up and taking me to the couch. He sits and brings me with him as he stretches on his back—then he flips me around in a 69. He whispers as he kisses the inside of my thigh. “Come on my face. Huh? Do that for me, huh?” He licks deep inside me.
“Oh god, Callan.”
“Bend over me.”
I take him in my mouth, ramming the thick flesh as far as I can take him. I rock my hips as his tongue works me and I go off in record speed when not only do I feel him tongue me deeply, but also hear him groan as if I’m the most delicious-tasting thing ever. I’m definitely not the most delicious-tasting thing ever.
Because I’ve got the most delicious-tasting thing ever in my mouth.
I didn’t sleep one wink and I’m not one bit tired after the orgasms he gave me. I feel amazing, delicious. Also, hungry. And shy.
I’m enjoying my time so much as we have breakfast, coffee and pastries and the most delicious green tea I’ve ever tasted.
I brazenly stroke my bare toes up his calf beneath the breakfast table as we both read the paper.
I love that Callan’s lips curl as if by their own will when I head a little higher, but he doesn’t stop reading. It makes me wonder if he reads the paper every morning. Wonder what it would be like to wake up and see him with his sexily mussed hair every morning.
“What are we doing today?”
He eyes me above the top of the paper, eyebrows raised, eyes warm on me as he then folds it. “I don’t know about you, but I’m doing you.”
“Callan!” I groan but blush deliciously all over.
He laughs softly, and then grits his jaw as if he’s in pain. “I’ve been thinking long and hard about this—and I’m talking to Roth tomorrow.”
My teacup clatters on the saucer. “What? What do you mean?” When he only sends me a commanding look, I blurt, “You don’t need to talk to him . . . This is just between me and you, and it’s just a fling. It’ll only complica— Look, I’m only here for two more weeks.”
“And?”
“And I’m not staying here. You’re not looking for anything serious.” I pause. “Are you?”
“I’m looking at her.”
“You don’t mean it. You’re fixated on me, like some company you see potential in; the more you think you can have it the more you want it.”
“Olivia,” he tsks softly, reaching across the table and tugging me around it until I’m on his lap. “You’re pleasant company, but you’re not a company.”
I’m scared to believe him. I don’t want him to talk to my brother, I don’t want him to pretend this is different, I don’t want to expect that much. I just want him.
I just want to binge and binge on him until this ache in my chest goes away. “I don’t want to talk.”
“Me either.” He rubs my ass as I rub his thigh.
“Let’s just enjoy this while it lasts, okay?” I beg.
He stares into my eyes. “I want to make it clear I have no shame when it comes to you. No rules I won’t break for you. Something about you gets to me like nothing ever has. I say the word woman, I think of you. Female, I think of you. Sexy, I think of you. Sweet, I think of you.”
“God. Don’t be sweet to me. It will just make it harder to leave.”
“You want hard? Last night was hard.” He looks at me—and I realize he doesn’t like our situation. He’s not the kind of man to be anyone’s dirty little secret. He’s the kind of man you flaunt.
And apparently, I’m the kind of girl he’d come clean for.
“I’ll tell him when I’m ready,” I concede, needing him more than I did a second ago. Something that I thought was impossible.
The steely determination in his eyes softens at my words, and he grabs the back of my neck possessively and pulls me to his devouring mouth. No more talking for now.
I have an enjoyable dinner with the girls that weekend, but I’m dreading telling my brother about Callan and me.
My worst fear now is that Tahoe is going to punch Callan.
I don’t want my brother to punch Callan.
I’ll punch my brother if that happens.
I feel protective of my guy, even if he’s only temporary. Callan not only looks like a bad boy, he acts like one too, and everybody’s going to blame him. They’re going to act as if this is such a bad thing, when it’s not bad. Not at all.