He walks over to me and pulls me into his arms.
“I just want you, Monty. I love you, and I know you love me too.” He squeezes like he will never let go, and the idea is both comforting and suffocating.
Despite the years of bullshit, some part of me does still love him. But I do want Callahan, I just won’t let myself have him. And even though I feel this way about Charlie, he hasn’t shown me that he is ready for a real relationship. So now I somehow have to show both of them that right now what I want is to have the freedom to wait and see.
I try to explain this to Charlie, but he just starts kissing my neck, and soon I give in to the sensation. We end up burning the brownies, and not caring as we do what we do best in my bed.
With the surgery five days away, everything feels tense. Each person around me seems to be holding their breath waiting for the moment that I go in. I don’t know if I have taken a steady one since I found out, and I’m tired of counting theirs. So when Callahan offers to take my mind off of it all, I say yes.
He invited me to his new garage, and I’m impressed by how quickly he was able to set all of this up. The name O’Connor proudly sits above the opening, letting you know who it belongs to.
“Did you really move your whole business here?” I ask while walking in.
He is next to a car, a wrench in his hands, with only a tight tee on. Clearly not finding our spring to be chilly, sweat glistens on his neck.
“No, I started a second location here. My best friend and business partner, Tanner, is manning the other one.”
That devil may care smirk lights up his face as his eyes trail up and down my body. In a snug sweater with thick leggings, I can’t imagine what is making him adjust himself.
“So why did you want me to meet you here?”
Bigger than any garage I have ever been to, there is a line of nice cars parked behind all the equipment. There is also an exit behind them that is big enough to fit a truck.
I know he said he went clean, but this sure does look like the place where a crew of dragracers would come to hang out.
“I want to take you for a ride.” He points to this black, shiny Cadillac. If I knew anything about vehicles, I would probably be impressed with it. All I know is that it’s probably expensive by the look of it.
“A drive? That’s it?”
“What? Not distracting enough?”
“I don’t know,” I say, crossing my arms.
“Just wait.” He walks over and opens the door for me, helping me slide in.
When the leather seat cools me through my clothes, the goosebumps he gave me intensify. With one last look in my direction, he pulls out onto the road. The first few minutes of the drive are quiet, and despite what he said, my mind keeps going back to the surgery.
“Callahan,” I sigh out.
“Just wait.” He silently drives until we are out of the city. When we hit a back road, he shifts gears, gives me a wink, and takes off at a speed that is absolutely illegal.
“Callahan!” I scream, clutching onto his arm. That just makes him laugh and go even faster. “Oh my god!” Too excited to close my eyes, and too scared to let him go, I grip him hard enough to leave bruises as he takes turns like he is on a track.
Removing his hand from the stick shift, he moves it down my body until it is at the edge of my pants. Locking eyes with me, he asks a question I never thought I would get.
“Isn’t the car manual?” I ask.
“It can be automatic, too.”
With that answer, I nod and agree to something crazy. Before I can change my mind, two fingers are sliding in and out of me.
Switching his eyes between me and the road, he doesn’t slow down as he adds a third one in. I’m pushed back into my seat by my panic and pleasure as we toy with our lives.
“Fuck,” I cry out, as the next turn shifts his fingers and me. Unfazed, he keeps a steady movement while keeping the same pace on the road.
When we catch up to a car, he goes around it all while still looking in my direction. I switch between alarm and arousal in a way that takes things to a whole new level.
When he blows through a stop sign, he pushes me past my last reservation. I find myself grinding on his fingers, trying to get him as deep as possible. The racing of my heart comes from both of the things he is doing. I don’t care anymore, I trust him to get me off and get me home. Lifting up, and slamming down, I help him bring me to that point.
