Page 42 of The Consequence of You
Callie snorts.
“You’re fucking kidding, right? I lost my mother. I was fifteen years old. For your information, my father hasn’t been to a damn thing at the school since then. And if you must know, being watched by Rossi feels a hell of a lot more like suffocation than love.”
Of course I know she lost her Mother, of course I do, but I’d do anything to have had a single moment of experiencing the kind of love she had.
No matter how fleeting, it was still so much more than I’d ever experienced.
All I can think about is how back then, when we were thirteen years old, I was so fucking jealous of her, my skin burned with the unfairness of it.
I step towards her, my fists clenched at my sides.
“Or, itislove, and you haveeverything, and you’re so damn spoiled you can’t even see it.”
She blinks at my bitter words and swallows deeply before she whispers,
“Maybe once upon a time I did, but not now, and never again, will I have …everything.”
I wince as her eyes fill with unshed tears. Suddenly I can see how black and white my view had been. How had I not realised experiencing that kind of love and then losing it, must be tortuous.
She wraps her arms around herself and takes a step back.
What I said in the car about having no regrets sounds so stupid now because right now, I wish I could take back the last five minutes more than anything.
“Fuck. I’m so sorry. I followed you in here so I could apologise for what I said in the car, and now I’ve just made everything worse… Fuck… I’m sorry.”
I’m never apologetic usually. I don’t back down. Ever. I don’t make justifications for my behaviour or try to explain away my actions, but Callie makes me reconsider everything.
A lone tear escapes and tracks down her cheek, and I do the only thing I know of that makes her feel good.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CALLIE
Asher crowds me against the wall and maybe after everything he said, I should be pushing him away, but I don’t. He has the ability to make me forget everything when he touches me, and that’s exactly what I need right now.
My nipples harden, and there’s a familiar involuntary clenching low in my core. Why his proximity elicits such a strong response in me is unclear, but it’s undeniable. He gives me a physical release unlike anything I’ve felt before. Perhaps it’s the safety of knowing, unlike with Nico, there’s no danger of forming feelings. We don’t like each other. He as good as admitted he hates me just minutes ago.
Asher drags his thumbs over my nipples, before lifting me effortlessly so I can wrap my legsaround his lean waist. My back arches in response. He presses into me, trapping me between his firm body and the wall. He has one hand under my arse, and he uses the other to yank the front of my dress down. I’d gone without a bra so my breasts are instantly exposed to the air.
There is little chance of Rossi finding us like this. He respects my privacy, and he knows I will call him if I need him. Still, the thought of potentially getting caught isn’t something I want to risk, so I slide out of Asher’s arms and lead him up to my room.
I flick the lock on my door, and within seconds, we’re back in virtually the same position we were downstairs.
Asher ducks his head, catching my nipple in his mouth. He circles my piercing with his tongue before suckling on it, gently at first, and then sucking more of my flesh into his hot mouth.
Desire coils in my tummy as I heat internally and watch him latch on to the other breast. There must be a direct line to my clit, as every lick, every lave, every suck has my clit throbbing. Something about seeing him worshipping my body like this, so fervently, has me almost coming on the spot. I fight it off, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of getting me off so easily.
I run my hands through his hair, deliberately mussing it up. Seeing him undone, messy and out of control with me, gives me permission to lose myself, too. His reckless abandon drags me along with him, and yet at the same time, I’ve never felt safer.
Asher has me pinned to the wall by just his groin, allowing him to free his hands enough to grab mine and hold them above my head. He dry humps me, his still clothed cock like a steel rod, rubbing up against me, over and over. He slows down and I release my legs from hiswaist, sliding down between him and the wall, my wrists still captured by one of his large hands.
My gaze collides with his, his blond hair falling across his forehead now, our heavy breathing the only sound in the room. My own desire is reflected in his hooded eyes and swollen lips, and there is something utterly heady about it. Both of us completely consumed with chasing that feeling. He places my hands on his chest, I feel his heart pounding, the fast rhythm mirroring mine.
Stroking my hands down his chest, I eventually reach his belt. I unbuckle it, slowly and deliberately, with not a single word exchanged. His pupils are blown, only the outer rim of green showing. He licks his bottom lip, and I almost lean up and kiss it. The temptation is there, but for some reason, kissing seems more intimate than anything else we’ve done.
Instead, I run my tongue up his throat, across his firm Adam’s apple. It bobs in response as he swallows. I finally find the button on his chinos and undo it, pushing them down over his hips until they pool at his feet. He kicks them off and I lift his polo shirt. He raises his arms as I slide it up and over his head, throwing it on the floor next to his trousers. The last time I saw him like this was the day we painted the nursing home bedroom, but I spent most of the afternoon avoiding looking at him. This time, I allow myself to fully take him in.
I run my gaze over him slowly and thoroughly. His muscles are toned and well defined, and his skin is smooth and taut over his biceps. There’s a smattering of blond hair on his chest and as I look down, I see a trail running from his naval between a well-defined v that has my mouth watering.
