Page 150 of On The Rocks

CALLUM

VALENTINE’S DAY

Rubbing my palms down the thighs of my jeans, I reached up and rang the doorbell to my own fucking apartment, thinking,You couldn’t make this shit up.

I had a key sitting in my pocket for my pad which I couldn’t use because my wife had well and truly left me out in the doghouse for the last two months.

I knew why. I also knew I deserved it, but I had to admit it was starting to get old.

Still, I also knew I was making headway, and a part of me even liked the chase and the work I had to put into getting Maeve back. It made everything seem more worthwhile, and we were getting to know each other in ways we never had the opportunity to do before.

Maeve was an incredible woman, and I was proud to call her my wife.

The door flew open to reveal Tristan standing there with pursed lips.

I would never have said Tris and I were great pals—he got along better with Donovan and Aislynn than he did me—but I’d always classed him as a friend and neighbor. He frequentedthe bar, and we’d had a drink together before and had some conversations.

He’d hardly spoken to me throughout my ‘in the doghouse’ era because he’d firmly been on Maeve’s side. It was okay with me because I would’ve much rather she had the support. Plus, the more ties she had to Hambleton in the form of people she loved, the less likely she’d be to take off.

“Maeve’s ready,” he muttered, blocking the door with his body. “She’s just getting her purse together.”

“Right,” I replied. “So, you gonna let me in while I wait?” Then I added, “You know, to my own apartment?”

“Hmm,” he answered. “I guess. But don’t you go using any of that Irish charm on me. If you’re anything like that brother of yours, you’ll get on my good side as quick as a flash, and I’ll forget I’m not talking to you, Callum ‘Irish love god’ O’Shea.”

With a smirk, I stepped toward him into my apartment, murmuring, “Thanks, Tris.”

“There!” he said accusingly.

“What?” I demanded.

He pointed to my face. “That right there, the sexy smirk and the deep drawl. That’s the charm I’m talking about.”

“But I didn’t do anything,” I exclaimed.

“You O’Shea boys don’t need to. Just a look at those twinkling blue eyes does it for me every time.” He jammed a hand to his hip and fanned his face with the other. “Okay. You’re forgiven.”

I widened my smirk. “That was easy.”

“I know,” he cried, fanning faster. “I’m awful, but I just can’t help it. I hate not talking to people, especially hot Irish men who send beautiful books and write even more beautiful notes to my BFF.” He sighed dreamily. “It’s just sooo romantic.”

“I agree,” Maeve’s voice declared.

Twisting my neck, my dick pulsed to life when my eyes fell on my beautiful wife standing in the doorway to the living room.

“Jesus,” I said huskily. “You’re stunning.”

She beamed at me, her cheeks flaming the same shade as the dark red dress she wore. The material was silky with a deep V at the neck and no sleeves. The soft, satiny cloth draped to her knees in swirly waves that skated her sexy, curvy hips. Her shoes were high heeled with a sliver of leather going across the top of her foot and thin straps tied at her ankles.

It hit me square in the cock that all I wanted in life was to eat my wife’s pussy like it was my last meal with that skirt draping over my head and those damned heels scraping my back. She was hot, sweet, and so sexy. I didn’t know how I’d managed to cope without touching her for so many weeks.

With a growl, I prowled toward her, crowding her into the door jamb. Then, I curled my fingers around the back of her neck and brushed her lips with mine. Her subtle flower scent infiltrated my senses, and my cock thickened until it was semi-hard.

“Wow,” she murmured, staring up at me, dazed.

“My thoughts exactly,” I rumbled, my eyes never leaving her face.

She blinked at me, her eyes still hazy.

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