Page 65 of Stolen Voices
“I am wise as fuck.”
Again, my joke doesn’t land as Mason glares at me. I’m not an idiot. I see where he’s going with this, and I appreciate what he’s saying, but it’s not the same. Callie and I work together, and she’s a hell of a lot younger than I am.
“Don’t let someone else’s actions dictate your life. You aren’t him, Eli. You’re a good man.” Mason’s words have the effect he was going for as a sharp pain stabs me in the sternum. He grips my shoulder before opening his door, but he leaves me with even wiser parting words. “Don’t miss out on something great because of what others might think. Your family will always stand by you. Don’t do what Jace and I did, and lose time. Life’s too precious.”
A lump forms in my throat, and all I can do is tip my chin as he slams the door shut. I wave at them one more time before driving away.
A rush of overwhelming emotions has me doing what Callie accused me of earlier. Avoiding her.
Instead of driving to the concert hall, I drive to my office. Callie’s not far from my thoughts as I prop my phone on my desk and watch her on the grainy black and white security cameras for the rest of the day. My attention never strays from her as her eyes flick to the entrance doors every few minutes, waiting for me to show up.
I never do, and it makes me sick to my stomach when I see the light dwindle in her eyes as the day goes on. Every cell in my body screams for me to go after her, but something that feels a lot like fear keeps me glued to my seat.
When the sun is long gone and Callie finally leaves rehearsals, I turn off the feed. I dig the heels of my palms into my eyes, taking a deep breath. The weight on my chest is unbearably heavy.
What the fuck did I do?
I’m a fucking coward for not showing up. She watched and waited for me all day, and all I did was disappoint her.
A text pings, pulling me from my spiral, and my heart leaps in my chest as I read the message.
Callie:Avoider.
My lips twitch at Callie calling me out for being a chickenshit. Another message pops up, and I can’t stop myself from full-on smiling as I read it.
Callie:I forgive you.
My fingers fly across the screen. Her words ease the ache in my chest. Even though I fucked up, Callie understands. Of course she does. She has this ability to understand me better than I do.
Eli:Thank you.
Callie:See you tomorrow, Elijiah.
Fuck, I love it when she full-names me. So does my cock as it stirs to life in my pants. My mind’s eye pictures Callie with her hip popped to the side, her defiant chin lifted high like my proud, flawlessly beautiful princess with a fire burning in her dark eyes.
For the first time in weeks, I don’t fight it. I rush to my private bathroom and lock the door. Leaning over the sink, I whip out my dick and stroke myself from root to tip. I recall the way her sparkly light-purple dress hugged her curves and slid up her thighs as I stepped between them. My fantasies evolve from the reality of what happened to what I wish would have happened instead as Callie sat on the bar top.
I possessively grip the back of her neck with one hand and crush my mouth to hers in a bruising kiss, showing the line of men in front of her exactly whom she belongs to. My other hand slides from her throat, through the valley of her breasts, over her taut stomach to the apex of her thighs. I bunch her skirt up to her waist, and expose her center.
Callie lifts her hips in search of my touch. I give her what she wants and dip my fingers under her dress and through her wet slit, teasing her. With just my fingertips, I glide through her silky pussy, pulling a melodic moan from her mouth that I greedily swallow.
“More, Elijiah. Give me more,” she begs.
I circle her clit before pushing two fingers inside her pussy. Her muscles clench around me as I press my thumb to her clit, giving her the pressure she needs.
She writhes beneath me as I fuck her with my fingers until she comes in a gush on my hand. When her walls finish quivering from her orgasm, I slide my fingers out of her tight pussy and bring them to my nose, inhaling her sweet scent before licking them clean.
The tip of my dick drips at the thought of tasting her, imagining that she tastes like honey. Biting back a grunt, pretending my precum is her slick honey dripping onto my fingers, I spread it around my cockhead and down my shaft, using it as lube to jack my cock faster. Harder.
In an embarrassingly short amount of time, like a horny fucking teenager, I come down the sink drain with Callie’s name on my lips.
I don’t have the faintest idea of what I should do when it comes to Callie, to us, but what I know for sure is I can’t fucking wait to see her tomorrow.
seventeen
Callie
“Callie,fifteenminutesuntilstart time.” Tommy, one of the few crew members who doesn’t creep me out, knocks on my dressing room door.
