Page 78 of Simmer Down
We each grab a bottle, pop the corks off, then settle on the couch. Lemon crawls out from under the coffee table and hops on my lap.
“Hey, my girl.” I pat her pregnant tummy as Callum powers on the TV. “How has she been this past week with you and Finn? She looks like she’s ready to pop.”
“She’s made herself right at home. She’s even started sleeping in Finn’s bed with him.”
“Good thing Finn doesn’t hate cats.”
“He’s got a soft spot for them, just like me.”
I down a sip of the wine. “How did you explain the arrangement with the cat? You know, since we’re still keeping you and me under wraps.”
Callum stares at the TV screen, jaw tight. “I told him I’m fostering cats from the vet’s office periodically.” He clears his throat. “He seems to buy it.”
“I’m so glad,” I say quietly.
Episodes queued up, we settle into our go-to position on the couch: Callum in the corner, me cuddled under his arm, Lemon tucked between us. We make it two episodes before both of our bottles are nearly empty. I sneak a glance at Callum, and my heart thuds.
Perfection.
It’s the one word I’ve been searching for all day—these past few days actually. Every day I’ve been without Callum, it’s felt like something is missing. But now that we’re together, it’s clear. He’s my lost piece. When I’m with him, everything’s right. Everything’s perfect.
Picking up Lemon with my free hand, I deposit her on the other end of the couch. Then I swipe Callum’s bottle from him and set both of the bottles on the coffee table.
“What are you...” He loses the rest of his words when I quietly straddle his lap.
A dizzy spell from the wine hits me, but I steady myself with both of my hands on his shoulders. His eyes lock with mine, and before he can say anything else, my mouth is on his.
It’s another breathless, desperate kiss, just like all our other ones. But for me, at least, it feels different. For me it’s a silent acknowledgment that after tonight things may change. After tonight, it’s only two days until the festival. After that he’s headed back to Chicago. For sure there will be disappointment and stress, maybe hurt feelings, maybe even anger.
But tonight there’s no trace of any of those. Tonight, as Callumand I pull at each other with eager hands, yanking our clothes from our bodies, it is perfection.
Perfect is the way his hands grip my hips, steadying me as I grind myself on his lap, only the thin fabric of our underwear separating us. Perfect is his tongue teasing my tongue, refusing to stop, spurred on by how many times I moan and cry out. Perfect is my hands lost in his hair, his throaty groans every time I tug. Perfect is that stripped-down look in his flawless hazel eyes every time our gazes connect, letting me know that this means something to him too.
Soon we’ve shed all fabric. Inside I’m burning, aching, begging for release. So I reach between his legs to guide him inside of me.
“Wait,” he blurts, then reaches to the other end of the couch where his rumpled trousers lie.
He glances at the empty spot on the couch where Lemon was sitting. “We must have scared her off.”
We both share a chuckle as he fishes his wallet out of his pocket, then he pulls out a condom. I swipe it from him, rip the wrapper open with my teeth, then lean back as I slide it on.
Callum fists the arm of the couch and grits his teeth as I make my move. “Fucking hell, Nikki, that’s...”
“Perfection,” I let out in a breathy voice. I groan at how he stretches me out in the best possible way.
With both hands on my cheeks, he pulls me to his face once more. “Exactly.”
I start out slowly, moving up and down with both of my hands on his shoulders for leverage. It’s barely a minute before Callum flashes that hyperconcentrated look in his eyes. He leans up. With one hand on my hip and the other still cupping my face, the corner of his mouth quirks up.
“Nikki. I...”
The new angle hits a deep spot, and I fall forward, barely able tocontain myself. My lips land on his, cutting him off. I start to kiss him until I’ve got no more air in my lungs.
I direct my hand down low to that spot that’s been on fire ever since I straddled Callum. Right now it’s begging, pleading for attention. I move my hand softly at first, swirling a slow rhythm until the heat morphs into pressure.
Callum’s eyes fall to where my hand is. “Yes. Just like that,” he growls.
Faster and faster I swirl until every blink gives way to blurry vision. Then it comes.
