Page 76 of The Deals We Make
Now, it feels like she’s mine. The woman in my bed and arms is precious. Worth dying for. I’m never going to leave her vulnerable ever again. Because if Calista isn’t the woman for me, no one is.
I speed up my thrusts, hitting it hard.
“Fuck, Calista. Feels so good.” The words are punctuated with grunts.
Sensations are in overdrive.
My spine feels like someone connected a live power cable to it.
And when I come, I realize I don’t ever want this to end.
No matter what Calista Moray has to say about it.
23
CALISTA
So, guess I’m a bondage girl.
I lift the T-shirt I borrowed from Ti’s drawer and look at the mild rope burn on my ribs. My pussy tingles at the thought of what happened yesterday.
Ti was right. My mind stilled as he focused on the knots, and I focused on him. The sensations across my body were indescribable.
And while I might have to reconcile being told to not speak by a man with just how good it all felt, I want to do it again.
I poke my head into Ti’s fridge, and it’s clear the man likes to eat. I find some eggs and sausage and bacon, plus some mushrooms and tomatoes, and set about making a feast. He’s going to his sister’s house to get his locs retwisted this morning and I’m intent on sending him out into the world with a full stomach.
And then, I want to ask him if it would be okay to stay until I have to leave town.
The thought of leaving Asbury Park flips my stomach a little, but I straighten my shoulders and hold on to the idea that staying here is impossible.
I have a meeting with the bank today. I’m meeting my team at a temporary workspace at noon, then at the bank to make official introductions and get them settled at two. Which means, I need to leave here in a couple of hours to pick up some clothes at Mom’s and review the final presentation that shows how we plan to tackle their issues.
As I cook, I call Becca.
“What do you need, boss?” she asks. Her words are mumbled, her voice rough.
“Shit,” I say, looking at the time. It’s seven a.m. here, which means it’s four in the morning. “Didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to bed.”
“No. I’m good. Awake now anyway. What did you need?”
“Becca, go back to bed. Everything can wait.”
“Wait, I need to know if you spoke to Orson and if he’s figured out who is stalking you.”
“No. My stalker is still elusive although, I have had more messages while I’ve been here. Orson’s ruled out one of the candidates Andrew gave him. Apparently, being happy is a marker of stability and someone isn’t likely to ruin that by stalking someone else. He’s also sent someone to look into Walt Timberlake.”
“Mmm. That’s a good call. Weirdo always gave me the creeps.”
“I’m still kicking myself for ever talking to him. It wasn’t even like the advice he gave me was all that stellar. Nothing I couldn’t get from the women’s business leaders group I went to at the time. Bet the sex he offered me wouldn’t have been all that stellar either.”
Becca chuckles. “For all your pithy humor, I’m glad you’re taking some time away.” Her tone turns serious. “Just because you feel indefatigable doesn’t mean you are.”
I sigh and catch sight of my reflection in the kitchen window. “I know I’m not indefatigable.” But even Becca doesn’t know what I really fear. That one of the organizations I’ve hacked in the past has caught up with me.
Maybe I’m getting too old for this shit.
The thought stops me in my tracks. I’d mentally muttered it in jest.
