Chapter 9
Callie
Maybe I just forgot to lock up but that makes no sense. Since the first break in, I’ve been super-careful and I’d never leave my mouse on the wrong side of the computer. Who the hell would?
Sir James grabs me by the arm and leads me into my bedroom. “Pack your bags, luv, and while you do, tell me who has a key to your place?”
“I’ve only had three made. One for my mom, one for Gerard, and one for Alan Baynard.”
“Alan? Who’s that?” No longer my friendly escort, his stare is dark, guarded, and he doesn’t blink.
“No one important. He’s just some guy I dated. Believe me, it wasn’t him who broke in.”
To escape the inquisition, I duck into my closet and grab an overnight bag.My throat gets tight and tears well even after two years. How could I have fallen for such a complete jerk? My God, I had a house picked out and names for our first kids. My heart had shattered when I saw him kissing another student and I thought I couldn’t feel worse.
Then, I discovered he was married.
Dashing into the bathroom, I toss toothbrush, deodorant, and shampoo into my bag hoping I won’t get sick. When we broke up, I promised myself I’d chose menwith my left-brain. And yet, here I am, ready to jump into bed with my bodyguard. If that doesn’t give me a clue how screwed-up I am, nothing will.
Several years of therapy helped me to understand why I always go for the wrong guy, just not how to fix it. I recall the self-help group and cringe. Imagine six women whining about their mistakes and none trying to move forward.
That wasn’t for me.
Know what else isn’t me? Going off with two complete strangers.
“Sir James? Suds? I’m not going. Maybe I did leave my mouse on the wrong side of my laptop. Perhaps Dyna moved it.”
“Funny, eh. The cat moved your mouse.” Lochlan chuckles but without any of the usual warmth.
He’s right. There’s nothing funny about someone breaking in and touching my stuff.
Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I tug one hairpin after another from my head. Eventually, the fake locks drop to the floor. Then, I reach behind my back but can’t release more than the top two buttons of the costume.
Note to self: never the leave the house in a sixteenth century dress with tiny buttons down the back.
“Ah, Lochlan? Can you come in here a moment?” I know he’s going to think I’m teasing him but I truly can’t get out of the dress.
“What d’ya need, luv?” He enters, brows creased as if in pain.
What would it be like to have my legs wrapped around his waist while he hovers over me, his long cock swollen, ready to plunge?
Not willing to let my thoughts wander in that direction, I clamp my thighs and turn my back to him. “Can you get at these damn buttons?”
He hisses out a warm breath, his fingertips pause at my neck, and I get goosebumps. In the mirror, he swallows hard and his hand shakes.
Slowly, he opens my dress, dragging an index finger down my spine. My panties, still damp from the elevator, get even more so. His rough beard scratches against my neck as he kisses me lightly. Shuddering, I moan and grab his arm not knowing what to do or say.
“Later.” His low and guttural voice, brands me deeper than red hot irons.
Then, he turns me by the shoulders, presses his soft lips to mine, and when we come up for air, he shoots me a wicked smile. “Dress warm and hurry on. Suds is waiting outside.”
Holy crap, I don’t need a coat. The heat pouring off him could melt the polar caps.
Shaking my head, I grab some cat food and convince Dyna into her carrier with a treat. Then, I find my wool maxicoat and place my stuff on the floor in front of the door.
“I’m ready.”
Sir. James moves my curtains a crack and glances out the front window. “I need to go out and talk to Suds. Lock yourself in the bathroom until I get back.”
