I press my head back into the pillow, my gaze taking in all that is Callie. My view is so fucking beautiful it hurts to breathe. She’s glorious on top of me. I watch as her neck tilts, long, dark, raven hair falling backwards as she begins to lift up on my cock and then press back down.
My hands go back to her thighs, holding them with a bruising force. “Christ,” I hiss as she lowers down. I bottom out inside of her again, balls-fucking-deep. She angles her body with each downward stroke so that my cock rakes against the walls of her pussy.
“Oh,” Callie breathes, the sound filled with decadence and joy. “Reed, I can feel it. Oh, God…”
I stretch up to capture her nipple, sucking it against the roof of my mouth, then soothing the tender peak with my tongue.
“Yes!” Callie cries out. She’s quivering all around my cock. I bite down on her nipple roughly as I hold her hips and grind her down, showing her how to find her pleasure. She bucks in my lap as her orgasm thunders through. Her hands on my stomach bite into the skin, as her movements become more hurried and on the verge of out of control. “Reed!” Callie practically shouts. “I’m coming.”
For a minute I can do nothing but relish how vocal and full of hunger she is. I start to give thanks for it silently, before her sweet pussy pulls me over the edge with her, and my cum jets deep inside her.
“Reed,” she whines, as I come so violently that I feel it jetting into her body to the point it’s almost painful because my cock is like granite, and she’s squeezing me so fucking tight that I can barely breathe.
“I’m here, Bluebird. I’ll always be right here,” I promise.
When her climax finishes, we stay connected, her body draping over mine, as I tuck her head in under my chin. I hold her as our breathing eventually returns to normal. I move my hand over her back, almost purring in her ear, kissing the top of her head, and just relishing each and every moment.
“We did it,” she finally says, her voice raw and hoarse, but filled with so much satisfaction that I close my eyes in thankfulness. I open them when Callie pulls back to look at me. The smile on her full, kiss-bruised, red lips has me extending up to graze mine against them.
“We did. Was it worth the wait, beautiful?”
“It was more than I’ve ever dreamed,” she answers, and for that, I kiss her again.
“You need to get some sleep. You’re going to be worn out.”
“Probably, but it was more than worth it. You’re better than any workout in a gym, Reed.”
I laugh. “Quit being cute and kiss me, woman.”
“I can do that,” she croons.
“I was hoping that would be your answer.” As we kiss, I silently acknowledge the truth I’ve always known.
Callie is where I belong. She always has been. She’s my home.
CHAPTER 36
Reed
Three days without Callie and I fucking feel as if I’m going insane. I literally don’t know if I can handle one more. She works four and is off three this week. We spent the day before she left doing nothing, but it felt like everything. Callie cooked all day which I found crazy. No, my woman cooked meal after meal for the Johnsons and apparently for me. My fridge has been full of containers that have enough food to feed three of me for the next five days. I know Henry and Esther mentioned that Callie always cooks for them, but I don’t think I grasped what that meant. She works her ass off. I shake my head. Clearly, she loved doing it, too, because she hummed the entire time. I smile with that thought because it was one of my songs she was humming. I couldn’t do anything but listen. I doubt she was even aware.
We’ve talked a few times over the phone. There’s still this nervous energy coming from her. I don’t understand it fully, but I get it. Still, I can hear that Callie’s missing me and for now, I’m satisfied with that. She’s the last voice I heard before I fell asleep last night, but it’s not enough. I want her beside me. My arms wrapped around her. Maybe it’s not healthy, but this emptiness without her is an ache that constantly reminds me that she’s not here.
Of course, the fact that I’m here is a source of constant bitching from Trisha. She wants me back in Nashville, and that’s not going to happen. I hate to see how she’ll take it when I sell my home in Nashville, but the more that I think about it, the more I’m convinced it needs to be done. My recording studio here is state of the art. I’m enjoying playing in it a lot. I’m already working on some new songs. Writing has become much easier here. I’m feeling less stressed, and I really like the direction my music seems to be going. None of that means much to Trisha. I owe some shows and I’ll do them—I will. I love performing live. That’s one of the first things I realized when I started this career. I just happen to think I need to give up a little more professional time to get my life—my life with Callie—together. On that Trisha and I disagree fiercely.