Page 97 of Sin with Me

My body is deliciously sore from last night’s—and this morning’s—extracurricular activities. Callisto brought me home not long after he proved he was better at more than making a good cup of coffee.

Brynn is about to drive me bananas with all her questions about where I was last night. After three very impatient text messages, I finally text her back.

Talk about it over a bottle of wine. Tomorrow night. Promise.

I get a series of high fives, thumbs ups, and kissing heart faces as a response.

Today, the clinic was much more chaotic than yesterday. Typical weekend. A glass of wine sounds really good right now. So does a hot bath. Wine and bubbles. The perfect therapy for a sore vagina. I grab my wireless headphones, and in a matter of seconds I’m singing along with the old school R&B I’ve grown to love. I sink down into the suds until everything but my head is swaddled in the warm blanket of water.

After lying there until the water grows cold, I decide my moment of bliss has run its course. The remains of my bubble bath roll in tiny droplets down my back and stomach while I wrap the towel around my body. Standing in front of the mirror on my dresser, something unexpected comes over me. I untuck the towel and let it fall to the floor. I think about what Callisto said about being shy with my nakedness. I’ve never really looked at myself naked before. Sure, I’ve seen my body in passing while I get dressed or right when I step out of the shower, but I’ve never really looked at myself. Honestly, it’s nothing spectacular. I tilt my head and try to see what he sees. My hands cup my modest breasts, surprised to see a decent amount of flesh spill over the top. I slide my palms over my semi-toned stomach to my lower abdomen. Then across the tops of my thighs and into the apex. A surge of heat shoots down my legs when my fingertips skim the bare flesh there. My lips part and my breath staggers as my fingers explore more of my body. Holy shit, I’m wet. I close my eyes and it’s him I see, his intense blue gaze setting me on fire. The way he speaks with such refined confidence. As if every word is a challenge for anyone to disagree or disobey.

When I open my eyes again, I see her. Pupils dark and dilated, chest heaving with expectation, lips parted in anticipation—the woman Callisto sees.

I close the dresser drawer and climb into bed, still naked. The cool cotton fabric is a welcome contrast to my scorching skin. My core is still throbbing, aching for something to relieve the burn I’m feeling deep inside. I try. I slide fingers inside. I circle my clit. But my own touch is not enough anymore.

There have been nights in the past two years when I’ve missed the feeling of skin on skin, so I would lie here, just like this, and make myself come thinking of Reid. If I’m honest, there were plenty of those nights when he was still here, but gone, that I did the same thing.

Tonight, it’s not that simple. For the first time, since my first time, I’m not thinking of Reid. My body wars with my mind to process all of it. Simply having an orgasm isn’t enough to put out the fire inside of me. I need him. I need Callisto. And something about that scares me to death.

The next day when I get home from shopping with Mom, Callisto’s dark gray Range Rover is sitting in my driveway. Here come the butterflies. I’m amazed at how my body reacts to the simple thought of seeing him. He’s leaning against the hood of his car and something’s off. He doesn’t look quite as happy to see me.

“Hey,” I say, testing the water with my toes before I jump all the way in.

He keeps his hands in the pockets of his black dress pants and narrows his eyes when he looks at me. “I won’t keep you. I know you have an early morning,” he says in a monotone that’s uncharacteristic, even for him.

“No. Please… Stay. Come in.”

God he’s beautiful. His black, long sleeve shirt is tucked neatly in his slacks, the cuffs rolled up just enough to reveal a gold designer watch. His hair is in its usual perfect chaos. His lips are full and pouty, making me want to pop up on my toes and take the bottom one between my teeth.

“That’s not a good idea right now.”

I inch forward until I’m standing directly in front of him, then I reach out and intertwine his fingers in mine, letting my other hand skim his crotch.

“Is this a good idea right now?” I ask, peeping up on my tiptoes and leaning into the crook of his neck, letting the completely masculine scent that is him intoxicate me.

I hear the clench of his teeth and feel the twitch of his jaw against my cheek. So, I lower myself back down and look up at him. Did I make plans with him and forget about them? Surely not.

“I promised my mom I’d go shopping with her today,” I explain, hoping to ease some of the tension.

“I didn’t ask for an explanation.” His words are a contradiction to the relief that flashes in his eyes. He may not have asked for an explanation, but he was glad I gave one.

“I thought you should know anyway. Please come inside.”

Please don’t disappear again. My heart can’t take it.

“I can’t stay. I just needed to know you were okay.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I grab my purse and start for the door.

There’s a chill in the air, and I don’t think it’s just the weather. Shit. It’s dark out, and I forgot to leave a light on. I grab my cell phone to use as a flashlight. This is not exactly how I pictured things going when I saw him again, but Callisto has this unique way of getting under my skin and making it impossible for me to decide if I want to kiss him or kick him in the balls.

“Why didn’t you open the door for me last night?”

The words come from immediately behind me. I didn’t even hear him walk up. The cell phone I’ve been fumbling with falls to the concrete. When I bend over to pick it up, my butt bumps into the solid muscle of his thigh. His large hand grabs onto my hip to steady me when my body threatens to fall forward. I take my time rolling back up, soaking in the strength of his touch.

I also don’t miss the fact that he completely avoided my question. Why wouldn’t I be okay?

“What are you talking about?” I never heard anyone knock on the door.

---