Page 73 of Elusion

Completely unfazed, Callie retrieves a blanket from the couch and drapes it around herself like a towel. “Hello, boys.”

Shit, at this point, I just need to lean in. I pause the music and turn around to face my over-occupied living room. “Disappear, hooligans.” I flippantly wave my hand. “We have yet to waltz.”

Johnny shakes his head, picking up his bag. “Christ, Waters. If this is you with a girlfriend, I’m terrified for our band’s image.” He disappears into the basement.

On the way upstairs, Gavin continues to cackle. Even after his bedroom door shuts, we hear him howling. He’ll make me extra miserable.

Alone again, my focus returns to the situation at hand. A waltz—a much harder to find song in my repertoire. I scroll through my options, finally settling on Edwin McCain’s “I’ll Be.” Far from my first choice and a little fast, but it will work. I crank up the volume to block out Gavin and any other potential interruptions.

Callie lets the blanket fall as I walk toward her. “Are you taking me to prom in the late nineties?”

I pull her into my arms. “Just dance, you impossible woman.”

And we do, gliding across the room. As an excuse to watch her move, I spin her more than necessary, her feet never failing to follow my lead. It only takes until the second chorus for me to toss her other arm over my shoulder and clasp my hands behind her. Our choreography becomes nothing more than a slow sway with my forehead resting on hers. I lose myself in her eyes, her scent, her touch, her everything and might have found meaning in an absurd universe.

Jesus.

I’ve found meaning in an absurd universe? Johnny’s right. My sap level needs lowered by a few thousand percent.

I walk my hands down Callie’s lower back and slip my thumbs beneath the lace hugging her ass. “I’m bored of you,” I whisper.

Without warning, she launches into my arms and wraps her legs around my waist. “We can’t have that now, can we?”

I slam the laptop shut, and we’re up the stairs and back in Benji’s room before the music even stops playing. I drop her onto the bed, landing over her. We bounce, and by the time we still, her panties are down her thighs. She sits up and pushes down my boxers while I unclasp her bra.

She lies back, and I have to take inventory. Her skin, her hair, her breasts, her eyes, her mouth.

“Perfect.”

My mouth only stays on hers a few seconds before I move lower. The breathy whimper she makes when my teeth graze over her nipple shoots down my spine. I grind my erection against her, not sure how many more of those sounds I can handle. As I kiss my way down her stomach, she thrusts a hand into my hair and lets out a sexy sigh. Another as my tongue drags up her inner thigh, and I groan.

“Jesus, baby.” I lift my head from between her legs. “I’m trying to think of a nice way to say this.”

She pushes up onto her elbows, frowning. “A nice way to say what?”

I crawl up and hover over her, holding a serious expression. “If you don’t stop making those fucking noises, I’ll finish before we even start.”

Callie laughs. “Get your shit together, Waters.”

She then does nothing to help me get my shit together by grabbing my dick and twisting her hand on the way up. I growl and clench and—holy shit.

“Screw you, Henders.”

She blinks up at me with a sexy-as-sin grin. “That’s what I’m waiting for.”

Fucking. Perfect.

I dive over the side of the bed for the box of condoms on the floor. As I put it in place, she locks her legs around me, and when I press between her thighs, her heels kick into my ass, pushing me inside her. I groan and drop my mouth onto hers. I kiss her, slowly drawing back and sinking forward again.

“God,you feel incredible,” I say against her lips. It doesn’t matter how much of her I get; it’s never enough.

I speed up my thrusts, her hips rising to meet each one. She digs her nails into the muscles on my back. Each scrape and buck does wonders to help me forget the sentimental thoughts that helped support Johnny’s comment.

And because rocking in and out of her is the worst fucking moment for me to think about Johnny, I can’t stop thinking about him. Specifically, when he called her my girlfriend. Neither of us corrected him even though we’ve never ventured into a conversation about labels. Really, I’ve never even considered it. I just know I want her—all of her.

Callie pulls me into her faster, her hands on my ass, and I adjust my angle, thrusting deeper. Our bodies move in sync, aware of what the other wants. Is the same true of our relationship? Are we under some mutual understanding of our status without an actual talk? Am I fine with this? Is she fine with it? Should I ask her? Obviously not now but later? Where were all these distracting thoughts a little while ago when I could have used them?

She moans out my name, her back arching off the mattress, and it snaps me back. A flush covers her skin, and I flex my hips into her harder.

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