“Joe –”
Before he thought about what he was doing, his head came up and his eyes locked on hers in the dark.
“You even think of tellin’ me you’re goin home, I swear to Christ –”
Her fingers came to his lips just like he saw her do to Keira at Colt and Feb’s barbeque.
“Baby, relax,” she whispered. “I was just gonna tease you about tearing my underwear.”
He felt something contract in the left side of his chest, something he didn’t get. It wasn’t exactly painful but it was strong enough that it made itself known. His fingers curled around her wrist and he pulled her hand away.
“I’ll buy you another pair.”
“I don’t need another pair.” Her thighs, still at his sides, pressed deeper. “Anyway, it’s worth the loss to have that memory. Big, bad, scary Joe Callahan, security to the stars, losing control and ripping away my underwear.”
He pushed his hips into her and he heard her suck in breath.
“Not a big fan of bein’ teased, buddy.”
Her arms tightened around him and she whispered, “Then whoever did it to you wasn’t doin’ it right.”
Cal didn’t reply and she gave him another squeeze of her arms.
“We got about an hour, Joe, I need to sleep.”
He again didn’t reply but he pulled out and righted her in the bed. He tugged off his jeans, pulled her key out of the pocket, putting it on the nightstand and tossed the jeans aside. Then he stretched out beside her and yanked the covers over them. She settled into him, wrapping a leg around his thigh, her arm around his gut and setting her cheek to his shoulder.
He stared at the dark ceiling and moved his fingers on her hip and ass until he felt her relax into him.
He thought she was asleep when she mumbled, “You okay, honey?”
She meant Bonnie.
He closed his eyes and his hand palmed her ass.
“Go to sleep, Vi.”
“All right,” she whispered on a weak squeeze of her arm.
He felt sleep claim her and he knew he needed to be shot of her. He needed this done. He shouldn’t have started it up again, even with her getting the way it was, he should never have fucking started it again.
But he did and even knowing he should end it, he had no intention of doing that.
None whatsoever.
*
She slid away from him and his eyes opened as he felt her body leave his bed.
He looked at the clock; it was six forty-seven.
Fuck. They should have set the alarm, they’d overslept.
She was hurrying, standing at the side of the bed, her hands on his tee, ready to pull it off.
“Leave it,” he growled, her body jolted and she twisted to look over her shoulder at him.
“What?”
“Wear my tee home,” he ordered.
“Wear it home?” she asked, sounding confused and turning to face him.
“Yeah.”
“But –”
“I wasn’t askin’,” he told her. “Wear it home.”
“I –” she started, stopped, he watched her face get soft then she whispered, “Okay.”
She bent down and grabbed her robe and nightgown and turned to leave.
“Buddy.”
She turned back.
“Get over here.”
“Joe, I slept late,” she told him.
“Come here.”
She hesitated then walked the three steps to the bed. He reached out, grabbed her hand and yanked hard so she came off her feet, her hands and a knee landing in the bed. As she came down, he dropped her hand and hooked his fingers around her neck, pulling her mouth to his.
He kissed her, her tongue tangling with his in that way he liked, like they were locked in some kind of hot, sexy battle for supremacy, winner takes all and then he let her mouth go but not her neck.
“You kiss me before you leave my house.”
She was breathing heavy and she whispered, “Okay.”
He touched his mouth to hers for the third fucking time in less than a fucking day.
Then he said, “Go home.”
“’Bye Joe.”
“Later buddy.”
He watched as she turned and walked across his room before he called her name.
“Vi.”
She whirled. “Yeah, Joe?”
He reached to his nightstand and hooked her key ring on a finger then held it out to her.
She rushed back, snatched the key from his hand, leaned down, fingers to his cheek and brushed her lips against his. Then she pulled back, grinned at him, he felt that contraction in his left chest again before she straightened, turned and disappeared.
He fell to his back and his hands went to his face, rubbing his skin.
And again he decided he should end it.
His life was good. He didn’t need anything to derail it. He’d worked hard, he kept going the way he was, he could retire to a good life by the time he was fifty.