thirty-five
Willow
Minutes later, we hear whining from the kitchen. “Stay right there,” Noah says. “I’ll let Momma out.”
When he comes back, he sits on the steps, uncorks the bottle of expensive Bordeaux we’d ordered at Chloe’s Nook, and hands it to me. I take a gulp straight from the bottle. “That’s sacrilege, you know,” Noah says.
“I know. But it’s still good.” A drop of wine slides down the corner of my mouth, and he leans over to lick it. “Good boy. Don’t let it go to waste.”
“I’d say that’s… fifty cents right there.”
Horrified, I hold the bottle away from me.
“Just kidding. I wanted a reason to lick your neck.” He goes for seconds, suckling on the base of my neck.
“Are you trying to give me a hickey, Callaway?”
He growls, his mouth still against my skin. “I wasn’t, but fuck yeah,” he says as he nibbles hard enough on me to make mecry out in surprise and low-grade pain. “Oh shit,” he says. “You mark easily.”
I laugh hysterically, the wine and the release from sex and the overall easiness of this surreal setting and of what’s happening right now hitting me.
Me sipping expensive wine on the grand staircase of the Callaway mansion, having given head to Noah Callaway after he’d made me come twice in the master bedroom.
Me bearing the last name Callaway.
Me being Noah’s wife, when months ago crushing on him was just hurting me.
Me seeing the way Noah looks at me, with want and hunger but also more than just lust.
He leans and nibbles again. “That’s what happens when you marry into a vampire family.”
Right then, the grandfather clock strikes midnight, and I laugh again, the timing of the endless peals amplifying my deep happiness.
Noah reaches inside the paper bag and pulls out the appetizer—goat cheese puffs with a honey-base dipping sauce. I take a bite. “Man. All this sex made me hungry. You?”
His gaze glances down my length. “Made me hungry for more of you, Mrs. Callaway.” He drops his puff in the container, running his hand through his hair. “Ah fuck.”
“What?”
“I just… want you again.” He looks genuinely pained.
I giggle. “Eat something first. We have all the time in the world.”
He looks at me with a question in his eyes.
It’s a weird situation we’re in. Married and lusting after each other, getting to know and appreciate each other. But we have it all backward. The steps are reversed. We’re already at the end-game stage. I’m not ready to push the tough conversation.
Momma dog makes her way to us, followed by her three puppies. They’re steadier on their feet, but they struggle following her up the steps and keep tumbling down. “How was it, growing up here?” I ask.
“Depends. Before Mom got here, it was kinda dark and sad, I guess? I don’t have a lot of memories of that time. But mainly, it was a happy place to grow up in. Especially in the summer.”
“Why the summer?
“We were always outside, running around. Going up to the orchards, helping with the vegetable garden.”
I look around, at the hallway with the doors closed, the high ceilings. “It is kinda gloomy in here,” I finally say.
“I told you to make it yours. Make any changes you want. Mom never did—I don’t know why. This stuff around here is… it’s been here for over a century.”
