“Call me when you’re ready to get out.”
I step out into the hallway and slide down the wall until my ass hits the floor, then I pull out my phone and tap over to the Pleasure Peak app. She hasn’t been back since our last conversation weeks ago. If I’m honest with myself, now that I have Callie here with me, it’s lost all of its allure.
The high I was chasing online is nothing compared to the feeling of being around Callie. She’s more potent than a strong shot of whiskey. In terms of vices, Callie Cooper might be the most dangerous one.
Almost an hour passes before I hear the muffled sound of her calling my name. I push open the door with my eyes pinched shut.
“Don’t look,” she says. “The bubbles are gone.”
“You’re gonna have to help me out here, Callie baby. I can’t see shit to find the towel.”
“Take two steps forward. Good. Ok, now reach out your hand and shuffle to the side.”
My fingers wrap around the soft fabric, and I tug it off the hook. “Now what?”
“Take three steps forward. One more. Right there. Now give me your hand.”
It’s a strange feeling being on the other side of someone giving instructions. Is this how Callie felt all those times I talked her through her orgasms? Fuck. I shouldn’t be thinking about that while she’s naked and vulnerable.
I hold out my hand, and her wet palm slides against it. Thewater sloshes in the tub, then she takes the towel. “Ok. All good.”
My eyes rake over her lush body from head to toe. Her skin is glistening, and a few stray bubbles cling to her face and arms. Her hair is damp, as if she washed it a while ago and let it air-dry.
She clutches the towel to her chest. “Do you mind handing me the robe?”
I clear my throat and turn, plucking her robe off the back of the door and holding it open for her.
She slips into it with ease. “Thanks.”
She squeals as I unceremoniously scoop her into my arms, careful to keep my hands from touching bare skin.
“A girl could get used to this,” she says.
God, I hope she does.
Over the next two days, my family takes turns bringing over food, and they check in often to make sure we don't need anything. Knowing how reluctant she is to accept help, I play the role of mediator so she’s not too overwhelmed by their presence.
I’m at her side without fail and, for three nights, I don’t have any nightmares; in fact, I don’t dream at all. Callie soothes me. I don't know how she does it, but there’s no way I can let her go now.
Callie returns from another shower, wrapped in a plush robe with a towel around her head. I wonder if she noticed I bought the extra-large fluffy towels specifically for her. There’s more color in her cheeks today, and the dark circles have faded.
“Thanks for staying with me, but you can go on about your day. I'm feeling much better.”
The words fall from her lips, and I’m left with a sharp pain. I’ve been dreading the day she’d send me away.
“Can’t.” I stroke my hand along Atticus’s thick coat, eliciting a loud purr. “I'm trapped. It would be a crime to move him. Punishable by death, or so I'm told.”
Callie smiles and scratches under his chin.
I open my arm and beckon her to me. “Come here.”
She looks at me like I have three heads. “I don’t cuddle.”
“That’s not what you said the other night.”
“I was asleep, and I had the flu. I can’t be blamed for what happened when I was delirious."
“Ouch. That hurts.” I clutch my chest. “I’ve seen you puking into my favorite popcorn bowl. Movie nights will never be the same again. I think I’ve earned myself another cuddle after everything you put me through.”
