God, she tastes amazing. Her legs curl around my hips, her feet slide along my legs, and I want inside her. Now.
But I also want to make it good for her and draw this out. So I do.
“Drew.” She whispers my name but I ignore her, continue my path with my lips along her skin. I kiss her stomach, lick her belly button, and make her giggle. The heat between her legs radiates toward me, drawing me closer, drawing me in, and I shift down, my head between her legs, a little chuckle escaping me when she spreads them at the perfectly precise moment.
Resting my hands on the inside of her thighs, I spread her wider, then bend down, planting a chaste kiss on the center of her. Another giggle escapes her and she pulls my hair, then pushes my head.
Down.
“You want this? You want me to make you come?” I ask because I’m feeling evil, still wanting to draw this out.
“Yes,” she breathes with a little nod, her gaze meeting mine. Those pretty green eyes are wide and fathomless, seeing everything, all of me, and not shying away. Not running away, either.
I’m a lucky son of a bitch to have found her. A smart one, too, since I just made her mine in the most legal sense.
Without another word, I lean in and devour her. Search her pink folds with my lips and tongue, suck her, lick her, slide a finger inside of her, then another, f**king her with my mouth and fingers until she’s a writhing mess, my name falling from her lips when the orgasm slams into her.
Her body quivers beneath my lips, around my fingers, and then I’m pulling away from her, settling on my knees before her as I curl my hand around my c**k and guide myself inside her still pulsating body. She stiffens beneath me, still so overcome with her orgasm I don’t think she realized I was about to enter her until it was too late.
But she’s not protesting. Her softening, welcoming body accepts me readily and I slide deep, as deep as I can get, pausing above her so I can stare down at her flushed face. Her eyes slowly open and she stares up at me for a long, quiet moment. I don’t move, don’t dare make a sound, just savor the feeling of being buried deep inside my wife, the two of us now one.
Complete.
Turning her head, she kisses my wrist. My hands are planted on either side of her head, my arms stiff, my muscles quaking. It’s taking everything within me to hold back, restrain myself. All I want to do is thrust again and again. Fuck her straight into the mattress until she’s gasping and screaming my name, our sweaty bodies clinging to each other until we finally come down from our high.
“Harder,” she urges as if she can read my mind and yet again, I’m pretty sure she probably can. I feel like I can read hers, too. It’s damn scary. It’s also comforting, to know you have that other person out there who’s just for you. Before meeting Fable I’d been suffocating with loneliness, not really living, just going through the motions. I didn’t believe I deserved anyone. I felt incomplete. A piece of me was missing all those years, especially the last few before I found her.
And I quickly realized she was that missing piece, the one that fit me so perfectly, I’d have to be a fool to let her go. Which I did. I ran away like an idiot and then found her again by pure dumb luck, or fate, or whatever you want to believe.
It doesn’t really matter, because now we’re together and nothing can stop us. Our biggest obstacles are past us. We can move on and forge a life together. It might be a little rough while we live separately during the regular season, but we’ll see each other as much as we can. Besides, it’s only for a couple of months. And then it’s only a couple of years until Owen graduates high school.
What’s the worst that can happen?
Chapter Four
Drew
We’re in Carmel, the scene of many crimes, so to speak, both literally and figuratively. I’m on edge and f**king uncomfortable because I’ve brought Fable here with me. She hasn’t returned since her one week as my fake girlfriend.
Now she’s here as my very real wife.
Dad wanted to throw a reception for us at his new home. Thank God he’d moved, or I wouldn’t have been able to go back like this. It would have been too uncomfortable, both for me and for Fable. I don’t think I could have endured it. I don’t think she could, either.
The new house is amazing. Not as large as the old one but considering he’s living here alone, Dad doesn’t need some grand mansion. He’s older now, traveling more, and he seems in better spirits. After what happened with Adele killing herself and his finding out what went on between Adele and me, he retreated into himself. We spoke, but it was difficult. He went to counseling. I even went to a few of his sessions, but damn, those had been tough.
There’s a lot of pain inside him over what Adele did to me. A lot of guilt, too, and I can relate to that. Putting us together in the same room trying to discuss it is extremely difficult. First of all, we’re guys. And second of all, we’re Callahan men. I think it’s hard for us to talk about our feelings.
Fine. I know it’s hard for us to talk about our feelings.
For the most part, we’ve moved past that. Our relationship had grown stilted, but now … now we’re okay. We’re what I would even consider close. As close as a father and son can be, what with living in two different cities and both of us constantly traveling.
So in honor of our recent wedding, Dad is having two hundred of his closest friends over at his house for a small reception. “Small” being a ridiculous word, but hey, I’m only quoting the guy. The house is packed. There are servers milling around with trays of food and champagne. There’s a full-service bar out on the patio and a deejay.