SEVEN
The next morning, awareness came to Matt in layers, each one better than the one before. Slowly he became cognizant of a comfortable bed, of soft sheets and Callie’s hair tickling his cheek, his hand resting on her hip. Her body lay lax, her breathing deep and even as she slept. For a moment he enjoyed the simple pleasure of holding a beautiful woman in his arms. A lazy morning where he had nothing he needed to do and no place he needed to be. Even better?
The potential for a repeat of last night.
He felt more relaxed than he had in a long time and not just because of the sex. Although the activities went a hell of a long way at taking the edge off the tension he’d been carrying around since he’d first laid eyes on Callie. The great sex left his body humming.
A buzzing sound caught his attention, and he peered over Callie’s shoulder. His cell phone vibrated madly, inching across the nightstand in its efforts to get his attention. When it went to voice mail, his phone flashed. Five missed calls.
Damn.
Panic punched him, and he bolted upright in bed, picturing Tommy calling for help. The emergency room trying to contact him about his brother being brought in for an overdose. The police calling to deliver the tragic news...
The house was dark when Matt entered—not a peaceful stillness, but the eerie kind that filled him with dread. Suffocating. Terrifying. Anxiety crawled up his spine as he headed up the hallway and called out Tommy’s name, getting no answer. He knew his brother was home because his car was in the drive.
When he spied his brother’s bedroom door cracked open, Matt’s steps slowed, his pulse increased and goose bumps prickled his neck, spreading throughout his limbs. His heart hammered in his chest as he slowly pushed the door open, and certainty slid into place when he saw Tommy lying on the floor, pale, as still as death.
Matt slammed his eyes shut against the memory, nausea rising in his stomach and tightening his chest. How could he have forgotten to check in with Tommy last night?
Matt fought to control his breathing, cursing under his breath, mindful of Callie sleeping next to him. He glanced down. Fortunately, she still appeared to be deep in sleep. Matt rolled out of bed and stood, reaching for the phone. As he scrolled through the missed calls, his heart continued to pound, no matter how much he told himself to calm down.
Every voice message was from Tommy, which meant he wasn’t dead. At least not yet.
Relief poured through Matt, and he leaned against the wall, bracing his hands on his knees. Willing himself to friggin’ get a grip.
Once he felt steadier, he padded down the hallway and into Callie’s living room. Hitting Tommy’s number, Matt collapsed onto the couch and braced for the topic.
Tommy voice sounded worried. “Where the hell have you been?”
Matt rubbed his eyes and let out a self-directed scoff of ridicule.
“Sorry, Tommy. I got distracted.”
Matt’s mind drifted back to Callie
Yep, very distracted.
Tommy’s huff sounded more amused than annoyed. “Yeah, well, when my worrywart of a big brother didn’t check in like usual, I got concerned. And with every unreturned call, I thought you’d been mugged and knocked unconscious or something.”
The bark of laughter held more bitterness than humor. Hopefully Tommy wouldn’t notice.
“Sorry, Tommy. Long story. Wound up making a trip to the E.R. last night.”
“You okay?”
“I’m fine. Just...helping out a friend.”
“A friend?”
Matt ignored the implied inquiry beneath his brother’s tone. “I’m heading back home tomorrow.”
His return to Manford was long overdue.
“Good,” Tommy said.
The relief in Tommy’s voice had Matt sitting up right. For the first time, Matt noticed the tension underlying his brother’s voice, a tension that didn’t relate to his brother’s worries about Matt.
“Are you, uh...?” Being a moron meant Matt’s question came out incredibly lame. “Okay?” Matt finished.
Okay, of course, meaning many different things.
Are you sleeping all right?
Having trouble at work?
Using again?
Matt bit back the groan and dropped his head into his hand, phone still pressed to his ear. They’d been skirting the edges of this issue since the last time Matt had picked Tommy up from a thirty-day stint in rehab. And the two years of tiptoeing were tiresome. Because, seriously, how many ways could two men have the same conversation?
If you don’t quit, you’re going to wind up dead, Tommy.
I’ve given it up for good, Matt, I swear.
And in Tommy’s defense, Matt knew his brother meant the words every time he repeated them.
Tommy’s voice brought Matt back to the conversation. “No, everything’s fine.”
There was an awkward pause. “Good,” Matt said, wondering what Tommy was really thinking.
“Penny and I will have a couple of steaks on the grill waiting for you when you get off the plane.”
As always, Tommy managed to bring a smile to Matt’s lips, despite the tension. “Sounds perfect.”
Matt signed off and leaned his head back against the couch, closing his eyes. Wishing he could recapture that feel-good, peaceful moment this morning when he’d first woken up. The lingering pleasant buzz from a night of fantastic sex. The lack of the ever-present uneasiness eating away at his stomach. He was too young to feel this damn old.
The residual panic-induced adrenaline still coursed through his limbs. Normally he needed several cups of coffee before being fully awake in the morning. Today, the scare had left him supercharged, and the tension in Tommy’s voice still weighed on Matt’s mind.
Something had upset his little brother. And if Matt didn’t get back soon and get to the bottom of whatever was going on, he might wind up dragging Tommy back to rehab again.
His gut clenched and he felt sick to his stomach.
Jesus, don’t throw up.
Callie’s voice broke through the unpleasant thought.
“So you’re heading out tomorrow?”
Matt opened his eyes and spied Callie leaning in the living-room doorway. She didn’t look fully awake, with her honey-colored hair tousled and her eyes sleepy. She was in a T-shirt that just covered her bottom, her long legs bared—legs that had spent a good portion of the night wrapped around him.
Longing surged through him. The urge to pick her up and carry her back to bed was strong.
“Sorry.” She pushed the hair out of her face. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”
“No problem. And, yeah,” he said. “I have several shifts I have to work this coming week.”
And a brother to check in on.
Callie tipped her head. “Will you be coming back before the wedding?”
Six weeks without seeing Callie again seemed like cruel and unusual punishment. But Matt knew the tightness in his chest wouldn’t ease completely with just a quick check on his brother, not with the tension he’d heard in Tommy’s voice.
The playful light in Callie’s eyes eased the tension until Matt had to fight a smile as he tried to sound serious. “Depends.”
Clearly, she caught the underlying tease in his tone. “On what?”
“On whether or not you’ll make it worth my while.”
“Does a good party hold any merit?” Callie said. “I was hoping you would come to my family reunion with me. You can sit back, relax and enjoy the loaded comments bestowed upon me by some of my relatives. And if that doesn’t tempt you—” her lips twisted wryly “—there’ll be some great food, too. I just happen to be related to the woman who makes the best shrimp étouffée in two counties. Nice and spicy.”
Matt laughed, enjoying the way Callie’s dry humor eased that residual tightness in his chest. “That’s not the kind of spicy I was hoping for.”
Her warm gaze lit with mischief, Callie uncrossed her arms and came closer. And with each step she took every cell in Matt’s body became tighter and tighter, focused on the enticing expanse of skin, the tension now of a different sort. And far more welcome.
She came to a stop in front of him. “So will you do a girl a favor and come back for a visit before the wedding?”
Matt looked up at Callie. He’d be crazy to plan a return visit when he had so much on his plate already. Two weeks of work at Manford Memorial, with a four-day stint in one of the busiest emergency rooms in Miami in between. Between travel, the need for sleep and the upcoming wedding, there wouldn’t be much in the way of spare time. Adding in an unnecessary trip back to New Orleans clearly bordered on insane.
“I promise you can crash here during your stay,” Callie said.
Hell, who could say no to that kind of offer?
Matt gave up, the grin creeping up his face as he reached for Callie’s thigh, pulling her into his lap. “I’ll do my best to make it happen.”
One week later
At ten o’clock in the evening, Matt let himself into the split-level house he’d grown up in and now shared with Tommy and Penny. Matt tossed his keys on the kitchen counter and rolled his shoulders to ease the tension of a long, boring shift in the E.R. Heading toward his side of the house, he was careful not to wake the sleeping occupants located at the other end. The arrangement had worked out better than he’d originally hoped.
One side of their shared home belonged to Tommy and Penny, providing them plenty of room for privacy. The space contained a bedroom, a family room and a guest-room-turned-gaming-room. The latter had been Tommy’s childhood bedroom and, years later, served as his retreat during the worst of his getting-clean stages.
Matt had spent years tiptoeing past the room and hovering outside the closed door, watching and wondering and worrying about Tommy. Even if Tommy had moved out, there was no way Matt could ever enter the room without feeling that sick churn in his stomach, a nausea that always left him longing to vomit, just to purge himself of the feeling. During the worst times, darkness and despair had seemed embedded in every nook and cranny, oozing from the walls and carpet. The lingering echoes of those emotions still pressed in on Matt. Even now he felt the hair rise on the back of his neck every time he glanced up the hallway.
Matt lived on the other side of the house where he had a bedroom and an office large enough to afford him some private space of his own. The kitchen and living room provided a common area in which Tommy, Penny and Matt could choose to hang out together at the end of the day. Since Matt traveled so much, he rarely spent more than a week at a time at his home base.
Clearly the current living situation wasn’t a permanent solution, but for now the arrangement worked. When Penny had joined the Paulson household, Matt had offered to move into one of the nicer apartment complexes up the street. But Tommy had refused to kick Matt out of his home. With Tommy’s track record, most of the decent rental properties would refuse to take him on as a tenant. Unfortunately, Penny’s history ruled out even some of the shadier places in town. In truth, Matt hadn’t fought the setup, mostly because the two couldn’t hide much if Matt occasionally occupied the same home.
So they existed in this state of limbo, a lot like the limbo of his and Callie’s relationship.
Sighing, Matt entered his bedroom and toed off his shoes. He gripped the hem of his scrub top and wearily pulled it over his head before reaching for his pants. He needed a shower, food and a good night’s rest. But mostly, he needed to see Callie again.
Yesterday’s sketchy night of sleep had started with dreams of her in a wet T-shirt, Matt’s hands roaming freely over the thin cotton, tracing the lace of her bra. As if by magic, then he’d been stroking the bare curves of her breasts. Tasting her skin. Reaching for her shorts. And because everything came easy in a dream, suddenly she’d been naked, squirming beneath him with an endless amount of enticingly silky skin, and he’d been licking his way down her flat stomach and to her inner thigh...
He needed to get a grip.
Last week’s flight back home had been delayed and he’d been stuck in the Minneapolis airport for twelve hours and, instead of catching a much-needed nap, he’d spent the entire time fantasizing about being back in Callie’s bed. Not exactly the way to encourage grabbing some shut-eye on the plane, either. By the time he’d arrived home in Michigan, it was almost 3:00 a.m. and he was dead-tired, frustrated and ready to turn around and head back to New Orleans. Instead, he’d dropped into bed and tossed and turned, missing Callie even more. He’d finally fallen into an exhausted sleep and slept until nine in the morning, which meant he’d missed seeing Tommy before his brother left for work.
An anxious twist in Matt’s chest had him clutching his dirty clothes, and he dumped his scrubs into the wicker hamper with more force than necessary.
At first glance, everything had seemed fine at home. Tommy looked good, Penny looked good and both appeared to be continuing on the path of the straight and narrow. Dinner that first night together had included steaks on the grill, as promised, but Tommy’s behavior seemed off. The nagging feeling wasn’t anything Matt could put a decisive finger on. There was a distance Matt wasn’t used to, especially since they’d been living in each other’s pockets for the past two years. And the tension had now been gnawing at Matt’s insides for days.
Matt pondered the possible causes as he showered and dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt. He padded into the kitchen. Standing at the kitchen counter, he ate delicious leftover pasta, thanks to Penny, who knew how to cook. Adding her to the mix had definitely improved the cuisine in the Paulson house.
Two of his three requirements met, and with sex with Callie disappointingly out of the question, he knew sleep was still a long way off. Matt headed for his office and dropped onto the leather couch, turning on his laptop on the coffee table.
An icon popped on his screen, indicating Callie had just flipped on her computer. With her a time zone behind him, the late hour wasn’t quite as bad for her as for him. He hesitated for a moment and then hit the call button.
The moment Callie’s image appeared on screen, he felt his tension ease. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, wearing pajamas. Unfortunately, the fifteen-inch screen on his laptop didn’t do her beautiful eyes justice.
“This is a surprise,” she said.
“A pleasant one, I hope.”
“Absolutely.”
He couldn’t see the playful light in her gaze, but he knew of its presence because of her tone. And for a moment, all he wanted was to climb onto a plane and fly back to New Orleans where everything seemed so much easier and simpler.
And certainly a hell of a lot more fun.
“Did I interrupt anything?” he asked.
“Nothing exciting.”
Files and small patches of fabric samples surrounded Callie on the bed. A silk robe clung to her shoulders but remained open in front. Matt spied a lacy tank top and what looked like a feminine pair of...
“Are those boxer shorts?” he said.
“You can take the tomboy out of the country, you know, but...” Smiling, she finished the sentence with a shrug and reached for her bedside table, picking up a glass of white wine. “At least they’re hot pink and edged with lace. Besides, I haven’t had to entertain company this late at night since you left.”
A twinge of possessiveness flared, and Matt tamped it down and concentrated instead on the twinkle in her eyes on the monitor.
Her hair hung in a gentle loop at the nape of her neck, gathered in some sort of casual twist that managed to look comfortable and pretty and sexy, all at the same time. An empty plate on her nightstand suggested she’d just finished her dinner. Clearly she’d eaten in bed.
He wished he’d eaten in her bed, too.
Matt glanced at the files scattered on her comforter. “What are you working on?”
Her smile held more than a hint of mischievousness. “Just sitting down to compose my reply to an Ex Factor reader for my blog. Actually, you’re the perfect person to help me with my response.”
Matt let out a soft scoff. “I doubt that. I thought this was Colin’s department.”
Callie laughed. “He’s responsible for the man’s view, yes. But I wanted your thoughts before I replied.”
“What’s the question?”
Two seconds ticked by before she answered.
“A bride-to-be asking for advice on how to convince her future brother-in-law to walk her down the aisle,” she said.
The one-two punch to his conscience came out of the blue, shocking the hell out of him.
Matt let out a groan. “You’re making that up.”
Callie shifted some paperwork and fabric swatches aside, settling back against her headboard with her glass of wine in hand. She stretched those toned, silky legs in front of her, bringing to mind when they’d been wrapped around his waist. The inside of his chest grew hot, heating the blood shooting through his veins.
When would he get a chance to hold her again?
He pushed the hopeless thought aside and concentrated on Callie, who was currently eyeing him over the rim of her wineglass. An expression like that meant trouble for sure.
She took a sip and carefully set her drink on the nightstand. “I had a long talk with Penny yesterday.”
Of course she had.
“She was desperately trying to come up with someone to walk her down the aisle,” Callie said. “And I told her she should ask you again.”
Matt shifted uneasily on the couch, propping his feet on the coffee table just to the left of his laptop. Might as well get comfortable for the conversation ahead.
“Yeah?” he replied in his best noncommittal voice.
He knew Tommy was disappointed Matt hadn’t told Penny he’d give her away. His brother hadn’t come out and said as much, but Matt knew. The closer they drew to the date of the wedding, the tenser things had grown. Still, compared to all the other issues brewing between them, Penny’s request seemed minor in comparison.
Callie’s lighthearted tone was long gone. “Matt, you said yourself that I should be grateful for the family I have. That I should get over myself and go to that reunion because wasting the family I have was stupid.”
His brow crinkled. “Those are not the words I used.”
“No,” she said, her chuckle drifting over the speaker. “You were definitely more tactful. But that’s what you meant. And you were right. Going to the reunion is the right thing for me to do. I have a family. One that wants to see me, even if they do make the occasional callous remark.” Callie sat up a touch, her brown eyes earnest, her voice soft. “You don’t have that choice because your parents are dead, and that’s a tragedy. But Penny doesn’t have a choice, either. Her parents refuse to have anything to do with her.” She paused before going on. “And that’s a tragedy, too.”
“I know.”
Several beats passed by before Callie went on, tipping her head. “Do you not like Penny?”
He resisted the urge to bring the video chat to a close. He could sign off and close the lid to the laptop and be done with this conversation. But no matter the topic, the sight of Callie in her sexy boxer pj’s was impossible to resist.
“It’s not that.” Matt wearily scrubbed his hand down his face. “Penny’s fine.”
And he meant the words, he seriously did. They weren’t just a platitude he pulled out of his ass when convenient. He admired anyone who could fight an addiction and win. He knew better than most just how hard that battle could be. Penny was bright, capable and, if nothing else, she clearly loved Tommy.
“Are you against this marriage?” Callie asked.
“No.” He winced at the force behind his words. He dropped his hands into his lap, and his voice dropped several octaves, as well. “Maybe.”
In response to Callie’s hiked brow, Matt let out a sigh. “Yes.”
Despite the harsh word, it felt good to get the sentiment off his chest. From the very moment Tommy had introduced Penny to Matt, Matt had been fighting the part of him dying to find a way to send the woman packing. He let out a soft scoff at the thought. As if he held that kind of power in his hands.
But the overwhelming urge had nothing to do with Penny personally and everything to do with the need to protect his brother, no matter what.
Matt felt like a dirtbag for admitting he didn’t want Tommy and Penny to marry, but Callie’s gaze remained free of judgment. And as he studied those beautiful brown eyes, relief slowly washed over him because he knew he could be absolutely, brutally honest with Callie. No matter how ugly his feelings, she wouldn’t hate him for the truth.
He definitely could have used her steady presence during the worst of Tommy’s addiction years.
“Tell me,” she said softly.
The tight knot in his chest unwound a bit. “Jesus, Callie,” he groaned out. “It’s like taking the potential for disaster and multiplying the bloody thing by a hundred.”
“What are you talking about?”
He dragged a hand through his damp hair, knowing he was leaving tufts sticking out in all directions. “I’m talking about Tommy relapsing and dragging Penny down with him.” He scowled in an attempt to mask the all-consuming fear as he considered the alternative. “Or vice versa. If she starts using again, how is Tommy going to resist temptation?”
Fear gripped him, and he hated himself for succumbing to the familiar emotion.
He shifted on the couch again. Now that he was on a roll, the words spilled out. “Or let’s say they do manage to stay clean while they’re together. What happens if the relationship tanks? Because let’s face the facts here. Two former users probably aren’t the most stable of sorts. How would Tommy handle the stress of a breakup and not be tempted to slip?”
Callie pursed her lips in thought as she reached for her glass and took another sip of wine. “Every relationship has the potential to tear a person down.” She set her drink aside and met Matt’s gaze again. “And this one is no different.”
He briefly pressed his lids closed, wishing the logic helped. “I know.”
But how many ran the potential to lead to something so dark? So permanent? Because nothing was more permanent than death.
Callie crossed her arms across her chest. “Tommy and Penny understand each other better than anyone else ever could. Yes, they could bring each other down. There’s no doubt about that.” She didn’t sugarcoat the words, even allowing more time for them to sink deep before going on. “But I happen to believe they’ll hold each other up.”
He hiked a brow dryly. “Yeah, well, you arrange weddings for a living. Your favorite character is Elizabeth Bennet, a woman who conveniently managed to fall in love with a man who could save her family from destitution. A fairy tale.”
“Pride and Prejudice is not a fairy tale.”
Matt hiked a brow. “Close enough. Seriously, Callie, real life rarely works out like that.” He let out a self-directed scoff. “You see happily ever after around every corner, but I get to patch people up after they beat the crap out of each other.”
I get to be the lone family member left to pull my brother out of the gutter, over and over again.
“Did you have a bad shift tonight?” she asked.
Hell, yeah.
“Kind of,” he said instead. Despite the topic of conversation, Matt fought a smile, his lips twitching at the memory. “The chief of staff argued with the head of E.R. about transferring a patient, a divorcing couple had a screaming match in triage and two best friends showed up because they’d beat the crap out of each other over a computer game.”
Callie rolled her eyes. “The friends were guys, I’m assuming.”
“Yeah. It started out as a joke and ended up fairly ugly,” Matt said. “To be fair, a case of beer had been consumed, so I’m not sure you can hold them completely accountable for their stupidity.”
“Of course you can hold them accountable,” she said. “There’s no excuse for being stupid enough to drink so much alcohol that a computer game becomes more important than a friendship.”
Callie leaned forward and came closer to the screen, lying on her belly and folding her arms on the bed. The new position brought her close enough for him to see the light in her eyes. This time the spark was earnest, nothing playful about it at all.
“Penny needs you right now, Matt. She’s going to be a sister of sorts, and you owe it to your brother to start this relationship out on the right foot.” A line appeared between her brows. “Don’t make Penny keep paying for the same mistakes over and over again.”
Callie was right. He knew she was right. Penny and Tommy both deserved Matt’s unconditional support. But so far, he’d let fear rule his reactions. The habit would be difficult to break because the fear ran so deep that nothing short of a scalpel could cut the sucker out, and even that would take a significant piece of Matt during the process.
He’d just have to carry on with the fear firmly in place.
Matt blew out a breath and studied the woman on the screen, wishing like hell they were in the same room. “Man, I wish I could touch you right now.”
A glimmer appeared in her eyes. “Tell you what,” she said. “If you agree to at least have a conversation with Penny about the wedding, I’ll let you watch me touch myself.”
The bark of shocked amusement slipped out even as Matt’s heart set up a pounding pace beneath his sternum. “Are you freaking kidding me?”
“I’m deadly serious.”
He eyed Callie’s cleavage, the potential blooming and bringing all sort of delicious scenarios to mind. “How many glasses of wine have you had?”
“I just had a conversation with my mother,” she said dryly, “which rarely goes well. The numbing effects of two glasses of wine are about the only way I can survive our conversations. Unfortunately, that’s just enough alcohol to also make me reckless—” a huge grin crept up her mouth “—but not enough to excuse me from my stupidity.”
Callie dropped the robe down her shoulders and tossed it aside, leaving her lacy tank and the curve of her breasts displayed. The view on Matt’s screen improved considerably.
“I’ll touch mine if you’ll touch yours,” she said smoothly.
The libido-punching words and the seductive look on her face morphed his blood into flaming rivers of fire, licking along his limbs. He fisted his hand, fighting the groan.
He’d give anything to able to reach through the screen and pull Callie onto his lap. His mind filled with images of his time with Callie: the wet shirt plastered against firm breasts, her cheeks flushed, her mouth parted as she convulsed around his fingers in the hammock.
Even better? Callie beneath him as she’d urged him on in her bed.
On screen, she reached for the hem of her lacy tank and pulled the fabric over her head.
Callie now sat there, beautiful breasts exposed, her top dangling from her finger. “So what do you think?”
His voice hoarse, he said, “I think what they say about cameras is right.”
“What do they say?” she said as she tipped her head curiously, a lock of honey-colored hair falling across her cheek.
And a bare-chested woman had no right looking so innocently adorable and sexy and sophisticated, all at the same time.
“The lens does add five pounds.” A teasing grin tried to hijack his mouth. “Specifically, 2.5 to each side. You look bigger, even without the corset.”
She threw back her head and laughed, and the sound soothed away the lingering bits of his bad mood, courtesy of a shift with patients who’d brought their arguments into his E.R. Matt’s muscles relaxed as the tension slipped away.
Callie scooted forward and propped her elbows on the bed, her breasts now hanging in full view of the camera. The immediate reaction of Matt’s libido almost did him in, tenting his sweatpants in an embarrassing way, and he tried to discreetly ease the pressure by tugging on his waistband.
“Careful,” Callie said, “or I’ll hit the minimize tab on the screen, and you’ll look much smaller.”
A hoarse chuckle escaped. “Don’t you dare.”
Though God knows he had bigger worries to be concerned about, like the fact that moving air in and out of his chest suddenly felt complicated.
“I haven’t been sleeping well.” Her tone husky, she slowly slid a hand down her stomach. “You?”
His voice felt raw. “No.”
“If you agree to talk to Penny, I’ll let you watch me masturbate.”
His already straining erection strained some more, and his groin grew so tight he thought he’d crack in half. Christ, every muscle was tensed and ready and willing and able, urging Matt to do exactly whatever Callie asked.
But wouldn’t he be better off calling a halt to this impossible relationship now? Every interaction led him further and further down a slippery slope. He’d shown up in New Orleans to find a wedding planner and leave, but had wound up staying for two weeks. He’d left for home with the plan of returning for the wedding, and moved heaven and earth to free up some time for another trip back. Until eventually breaking things off felt impossible.
“And then I can watch you do the same,” she said.
“You want me to masturbate on camera for you?”
“Why not?” she said. “We’re both grown-ups. If I sign off now, what will you do?”
“Take care of this myself.”
“What’s a little video sexting other than a way to challenge ourselves? You know, up the ante on our third-base event on the dock.”
“So now, instead of third base we’re...what?” He quirked a teasing eyebrow. “Hitting zero base?”
“You wouldn’t want to deprive me of the pleasure of watching, would you?”
Desire shot through his limbs, his heart slamming in his chest, and he tugged on the leg of his briefs, dying to provide a little relief.
“Why are you so intent on this little endeavor, anyway?” he asked.
“You look like you’ve had a crappy day.”
“I did.”
The arguing of the administrators had been prolonged and, as with most management types, full of a lot of hot air as both sides seemed intent on hearing themselves speak. Matt just wanted to provide appropriate care for the patient. But the scene had morphed into Matt being thrown into the mix of two men running for political office. And between the fighting friends and the divorcing couple, the evening had ended on a truly sucky note.
A little sexual release seemed a small pleasure to ask.
But part of him wondered about the point of this little, well, exercise, for lack of a better word. Callie lived in New Orleans. Callie loved New Orleans. And her business clearly thrived in a city that provided ample opportunity for themed weddings. Matt knew few couples, if any, would travel to Manford, Michigan, to fulfill their adventure wedding fantasies. And he certainly couldn’t move because Tommy lived here.
The last time Matt had left his little brother for too long, Tommy had almost died....
Matt slammed his eyes closed, torn between what he wanted now and what he feared would be too hard to let go of later.
“Matt.”
He opened his eyes and found Callie had shifted on her bed.
“Okay,” he said. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll think about having a conversation with Penny.”
“That’s all a girl can ask,” Callie said.
A palm cupped her breast and her seeking hand finally slid beneath the front of her boxers. “I have a thing for your broad shoulders,” she murmured. “I have ever since the dressing room.” Her honey words rolled over him, and her thumb began to circle the tip of her breast. “I love the feel of your hard chest against mine when you move on top of me.” The bud hardened and swelled, and blood whooshed annoyingly in his ears. He didn’t want to miss even the tiniest inflection in the drawl.
Her eyes glazed over. “Picture me spread beneath you.”
His chest struggled to suck in enough oxygen.
She looked like every adolescent’s wet dream. Granted, she didn’t have as lush a figure as most centerfolds. But he craved the feel of her skin, her taste on his tongue and the toned legs. The gentle flare of her hips was just enough to entice a man. Her breasts were perfectly formed. As her breath came faster, the tips rose and fell faster with every breath. The hand down her panties moved faster. The fact that he couldn’t see exactly what was going on was almost hotter for the secrecy.
The only thing he knew for certain was that she was ready for him. If he was in her bed right now, he could pull her beneath him and thrust deep, no foreplay needed. Good God, he closed his eyes and remembered sliding between those silken thighs and into her wet heat.
With a groan, he reached into his pants and grasped his erection. He ignored the thoughts swirling in his head as he began to stroke himself.
“Matt—” Callie’s voice cracked.
“I know.”
“Hurry,” she said.
His hand pumped a little harder as he watched her eyes glaze over, her hips start to roll with every movement of the hand between her legs. He grew so tight he thought he’d crack.
“That’s really...” Her voice trailed off. She sounded out of breath. “Hot,” she drawled.
“Is hot the agreed upon safe word?”
“Do we need a safe word?”
“With you around, hell, yeah.”
Nothing was safe with Callie around, most of all his sanity.
Even on screen he could see the flush on her cheeks and her lips part as she began to pant for breath. And while his gaze remained locked on hers, every once in a while he saw her tick her gaze down. To watch what he was doing.
Frustrated by the constricting fabric, Matt gave up on restraint and tugged his sweatpants down to his thighs before returning his hand to his erection, his hand beginning an intense rhythm. His attention drifted between memories of Callie moving beneath him in bed and the live picture of her on screen. Sweat dotted his upper lip, and the pleasure wound tighter. He remembered the scent of her shampoo and the sounds she made as she clutched his back. Callie whimpered—even that tiny sound held a hint of the South. A second ticked by before he realized the noise had come from Callie and not just his memories.
“Oh, my God, Matt. I can’t—” Callie’s voice gave out.
He glanced at her, and suddenly Matt couldn’t suck in the oxygen fast enough.
Matt had the overwhelming urge to lean forward and lick the computer screen, a sad substitute for the sweet taste of Callie’s skin. Instead, he imagined taking her nipple into his mouth and sucking hard, picturing her writhing against him. He could almost smell the scent of sex, the feel of sweat-slicked skin against sweat-slicked skin. An electric energy pulsed in his groin, demanding to be released.
Don’t you dare finish first, Paulson.
“Callie,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.
The single, desperate word had the intended effect. Callie arched her back and let out a long, low moan. Despite the soft tone, the sound slammed into Matt, and he closed his eyes, following on her heels.
Matt had no idea how much time ticked by before he could focus again. Slowly he became aware of his heaving breaths, and he lifted his head to stare at the computer screen. Callie had a dreamy look on her face and a slight smile on her lips.
“Hey,” she said softly.
“Hey, yourself.”
Her smile grew bigger. “Aren’t you glad you agreed?”
A chuckle escaped. “Callie, hitting zero base with you is a hundred times better than hitting a home run with someone else.”