“Where’d that come from?” I asked, surprised. Calum glanced up at me, still kneeling on the floor in front of the bathroom cabinet.
“I bought it from a little store in town,” he shrugged, a small smile teasing the corners of his lips as he popped the glass cork. He stood and poured a little in, the scent of honey and lavender immediately filling the small, cramped space.
In two short steps, he was in front me, gently taking the mug of tea from my hands, setting it beside him on the counter. Looking back at me, he drew his bottom lip in and bit it, his fingers tugging against the hem of my gray long-sleeved shirt, the calloused pads of them stroking the smooth skin along the waistband of my black leggings.
I shivered, desire humming through me. He smiled before gripping my shirt and pulling it up slowly, seeming to marvel at every inch of skin he exposed. Off it came, falling to the ground in a pool of fabric, leaving me in my white sheer lace bralette and leggings.
Calum let out a strangled sound from the back of his throat and dropped quietly to his knees, his hands going to my sides. His thumb hooked in the waistband of my leggings, and he tugged them down slowly, peppering soft kisses to the inside of my thighs, all the while looking up at me. He kissed my mound through my underwear before he tugged them down past my knees. I stepped out of them, and he grinned, stuffing them in the back pocket of his jeans.
“Creep.” I laughed, gently swatting at his shoulder—leaving it there, palm down, fingers digging just slightly into his flesh when he let out a sigh against my bare core. But then he stood, drawing my hand up with him, his sights on my face.
“Not going to lie, love. I have no clue how to get that off, although I do admire it.” He said, fingering the lacy pattern along the swell of my breasts. I freed myself from it, and he watched—enjoying every second of the show. No sooner had the bralette joined my shirt on the ground, than Calum’s lips were around the peaking point of my nipple—drawing it in. His tongue swirled around it and I sighed.
Suddenly, he was stepping back and away from me, leaving me deprived of his touch. The cold air of the bathroom making his loss all the more pronounced. He turned the tub off before it could overflow, grinning apologetically at me as he rolled up his sleeve and plunged his arm into the water, pulling the plug to drain it a little. He pushed the plug back down and withdrew his soapy arm.
He reached for my hand as I stepped into the tub. The water was the perfect temperature—hot without beingtoohot. I let out a purr, sinking down into the bubbles.
Calum grabbed my tea and placed it on the side of the tub within my reach. He picked up his tea and the paperback, making himself comfortable on the soft bath mat in front of the tub, leaning with his back to it.
He grinned—remembering this, and turned his head, looking at me with unmeasurable love before returning his attention to the book in his lap. He began to read, his voice a musical baritone that made every nerve ending in my sensory world hum. I reached for my tea, sinking lower in the tub as I sipped it, my breasts hidden by the bubbles, and closed my eyes, letting his voice wash over me.
“Lucille had never experienced anything quite like the touch of Alejandro’s fingers along the base of her exposed spine. The dress she was wearing dipped low enough to reveal almost all of her back, and Alejandro couldn’t seem to resist touching her as they glided about on the dance floor. The way he moved was sinful, Lucille’s mother would have a fit at how intimately he held her—how close their bodies were. Lucille could feel every inch of his hard body, including the swollen member pressing against the inside of her thigh as they danced…”
My eyes popped open when he trailed off, shifting so that his body was positioned beside the tub, facing me. He stuck his arm back in the water, his right palm resting on my mid-thigh as he continued reading of Lucille and Alejandro’s prelude to sex—their risky, passionate dancing on the dance floor. I kept my eyes open, watching him with fascination.
He balanced the book on his lap, turning the page with his left hand. The ink on his skin set off the words on the pages. It was one of the most arousing sights, and with each rumbling word he read, his fingers crept closer to my core.
My lids fluttered shut when the pad of his index finger circled my slit, my thighs falling open in welcome. Calum didn’t skip a beat, continuing to read through a smile, his finger working me.
Calum
“We could have paid someone else to do this, you know,” Evan grunted from the other side of the sofa currently wedged in the door frame. Muscles straining, I pulled while he pushed, but the damn thing was stuck fast and wedged in the front doorway of Harper’s house. Cursing Dare—who said he’d be here two hours ago. I wondered for the umpteenth time when he’d show up.
“But,” I replied, out of breath and already sweaty. “There’s only one moving company in town, and they’re booked solid until next week. All they had was a truck.”
And the smallest one at that—a ten-footer I’d picked up earlier that morning. Not that we needed much bigger than that, Harper didn’t have a lot of things to move, but still. I’d rented the truck for the weekend, intending on helping Raina move in—whether she wanted it or not.
“You’resurethis can’t wait until next week?” Evan’s head popped up over the couch, his brows furrowed.
“No, the house needs to be empty for the tenants to move in this weekend.”
“Who’s moving in?”
I sighed and gave up on pulling, opting to just hold the couch. My jaw clicked with tension. I hadn’t told the guys about who Raina really was yet, or why she needed the place so bad. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust them with the information, but I had a feeling Raina wasn’t ready for anybody to know the truth.
“Remember Asher’s friend, Nik?” Evan nodded. “They needed a new place to live, so Harper’s renting her house to them. They’re moving in this weekend.”
“Fine.” Evan sighed. “Can we at least wait until Dare gets here?”
Footsteps on the gravel had me turning my head. I was hoping it would be Dare—apologetic with fresh coffee, but it was Jack Morrison who approached.
“Morning, Jack.”
“Morning.” He nodded, eyes moving from me to the couch. “I just got off the phone with Harper. She mentioned you might need some help. I looked out my window and it appears she’s right. The back door is two inches wider, that’s how we got it in.”
“Right.” I exhaled, switching tactics and shoving instead of pulling. A good solid push with my shoulder and we had the couch back inside the living room. “Thanks, Jack. I don’t want to pull you away from anything…”
“I’m retired, son. You’re not pulling me away from much.” I glanced at him, wondering how he felt about Harper and Asher moving in so abruptly. Jack’s expression didn’t give away anything, but he didn’t seem tense or displeased. I relaxed a little, my shoulders easing.
