“I can’t give you more than this,” he says.
“I know, I’m not asking. I have a lot of healing to do myself. But Callan, eventually I hope you can move on. I’d love to see you have a family again. If anyone is a family man, it’s you.”
“I loved having a family. I just can’t do that anymore. A wife, and more kids…what if I couldn’t…I’m just. It doesn’t feel right.” He goes quiet again for a long time. “I promised to keep them safe,” he mumbles.
“It wasn’t your fault, Callan,” I say gently. “You deserve happiness. Zoe would want that. I know she would.”
“She was on her way to the doctor for a checkup. I was supposed to go, but got tied up with some paperwork. She told me it was okay, she was easy and independent like that…but if I would have been with her, then maybe…”
“Then maybe Kaitlyn wouldn’t have a mother or a father.” I go quiet for a moment to see if he’s going to allow me to continue, because yeah, I’m overstepping here, but this guy needs to talk, and right now I want nothing more than to be the friend he needs. When he remains silent, I restart with, “I know it doesn’t feel that way, and I know my words aren’t going to matter or change your mind, but you need to know the only one who blames you is you. Zoe was in a terrible accident. No one could have done anything. The police, the doctors, the firefighters…her husband.”
“The counsellor said the same thing, and so do the members of my single parent support group.” He turns to me. “Gemma,” he says, his voice almost panicked.
“Yeah.”
“All of this, everything I just told you is between us, okay?”
“Of course, Callan. You don’t even have to say that.”
He frowns and grips a fistful of his hair. “I’m not even sure why I opened my mouth.”
“Because you needed to, and your secrets are safe with me, just like I know mine are safe with you.”
He smiles, pushes my hair from my face, and drops a soft kiss onto my mouth. His mood shifts, and I can finally breathe again. “Don’t we have a race to win?”
“We don’t have to—”
“Are you kidding me?” He holds his hand up, one finger out. “One, I’m looking forward to a free meal in the city when we win, and two, let’s go show douche-bag how good of a team we make.”
I smile. “We do make a good team.”
“Let’s do this then.” He glances at the clock on the nightstand. “When does it start?”
“Any time now, but we should shower.” I jerk my thumb toward the ensuite bathroom. “Do you want to go first?”
He shakes his head, a small, sexy grin turning up the corners of his mouth. “Did you really just ask me that?”
“Yeah, sort of why?” I ask, as that playful smirk sizzles over my flesh like a hot caress. “What am I missing?”
“We can shower together.”
“Oh, right,” I say, not used to this kind of attention from a man, but loving every second of it. After sex, Brad showered alone, and I was grateful, needing quiet time to sort through all the horrible things I was feeling. With Callan, there are no bad feelings, only happy memories.
He shoves the blankets off, comes around to my side and takes my hand. He lifts me from the bed, and my naked body collides with his. He groans. “Maybe showering together is a bad idea.”
“Oh, hang on a second,” I say, and turn, his morning boner pressing into my ass as I lean forward and fuss with the sheets. “I always like to make my bed in the morning.”
“The only thing you’re making…is my cock hard.”
I try to stifle a chuckle, loving that his mood is lighter and hoping somehow, some way, if not today, then down the road, he’ll take my words to heart and learn to hold on to the past in a way that still allows him to have a future.
“Oh, I didn’t know.”
“Sure you didn’t,” he says and I yelp when he scoops me up and marches me into the bathroom. “Do you think they’ll mind waiting a bit longer?” he growls into my ear as he turns the water on and adjusts the temperature.
“Do they even have a choice?”
“No,” he says and squirts a generous amount of soap into his hand to wash me. I sigh as his big, warm hands race over my body, touching and cleaning every inch of me. He puts his fingers between my legs, and lightly strokes my sensitized clit. My head falls back against his chest.
“Callan, that feels incredible.”
His mouth is close to my ear, his breath hot on my neck when he says, “Put your hands on the wall.”
Without question, I step away from him and do what he’s asked. He growls.
“Spread your legs.”
I widen my legs and tip my ass up to him, and I’m rewarded with a thick finger inside me. He strokes me deep, but it’s not enough. I need his cock.
“Callan, please fuck me.”
He growls and I glance over my shoulder to see him take his big, fat cock into his hand. He strokes himself. “This what you want?” he asks.
“Yes,” I murmur.
He steps up to me and positions himself near my opening. His strong fingers grip my hips, and he powers forward, filling me so thoroughly, so deeply, it steals the breath from my lungs.
His hands circle my body and he cups my breasts, squeezing them as he moves inside me. I push back, wanting him deeper, wanting everything. My God, I love this man’s cock inside me. Love the way he takes me.
“Just like that,” I say and lick my lips. My fingers claw against the tiled wall as he holds my hips tight and changes the pace and rhythm until my legs nearly give way.
