head. “Playtime’s over,” she reminded him.
“Oh! Right.” Laughing, he untied her,
pressing kisses against her slightly sore wrists. “I’m so sorry, honey. I
forgot.”
“It’s alright.” Smiling, Callie wrapped
her hands around his waist, enjoying the feel of his bare skin against her even
though they were both slick with sweat. “I enjoyed it.”
“Did you?” He stroked her back, his hand
sending ripples of warmth through her as it traveled lazily up and down her
spine.
“Mmm.” She closed her eyes, snuggling
into him. A yawn escaped from her lips, and she thought that, given a few
moments, she might actually drop off to sleep.
“Enough to do it again?”
Her eyes popped open. “What?”
Frowning, Brendan turned to his side,
staring at her with those beautiful pale blue eyes. “You weren’t thinking that
we would sleep together this one time and then we would just go back to
business as usual, were you?”
“Umm…” Callie swallowed. The truth was,
she hadn’t really been thinking much at all, not since he’d ravished her in the
park. “I… I’m not saying it wouldn’t happen again, I just don’t want to make
promises. I’m not committing to anything,” she said firmly.
“Hmm.” He slid his hand down her naked
hip and squeezed her thigh possessively. “So what you’re saying is that you
don’t want to make anything official, but if we were, somehow, to fall back
into bed again, you wouldn’t necessarily protest?”
“That sounds about right.” Callie bit her
lip.
“Then that’s all I really need to know.”
He tucked her back into his side again, holding her gently, and soon his
breathing settled into a slow, steady rhythm that told her he was asleep.
Smiling, Callie curled up into him and
closed her eyes.
Chapter
Eight
A week later, Callie was sitting in her
office at four o’clock on a Friday, drumming her fingers against her desk as
she stared down at her cell phone. She’d spent the last fifteen minutes
debating whether or not she should call Brendan and ask him if he was doing
anything tonight, and she was no closer to making a decision than she had been
since she’d started the internal conversation in her head.
She hadn’t heard from him, or at least
not on a personal level, since the night he’d taken her to bed and made hot, kinky,
passionate love to her, the way she’d secretly always dreamed of but been too
afraid to ask for. He’d already left by the time she’d woken up that morning,
leaving behind a signed copy of the contract and an origami rose.
She’d taken the contract to her office to
sign and fax that morning, and left the rose by her bedside table, which she’d
stared at every night before she went to bed. It was the only reason she wasn’t
completely furious with him; origami roses had been another tradition of his;
whenever they’d been together, he would often leave her love notes, just for
fun, that were wrapped up into an origami rose. She would delight in unfurling
his creations carefully so she could read what was inside, and then would
always try to fold the paper back into place. She’d only succeeded doing so a
handful of times; crafts had never been her thing, though strangely Brendan
took to them like water. He loved to use his hands to make things, which she
supposed was why he was such a good guitarist.
She wasn’t sure if she hadn’t opened the
flower because she was afraid to damage it, or because she was afraid to know
what he’d written inside it.
So what, did you think he was going to
write you some nasty note and dress it up with an origami flower? A voice inside her head
snapped. After everything the two of you opened up to each other about that
night? Get a grip, girl.
Callie sighed. That was the problem. She
couldn’t seem to get a grip. Not where Brendan was concerned.
“Hellooooooo!” Lucinda’s voice rang out,
distracting Callie from her dilemma. Looking up, her eyes widened as
“Oh! Right.” Laughing, he untied her,
pressing kisses against her slightly sore wrists. “I’m so sorry, honey. I
forgot.”
“It’s alright.” Smiling, Callie wrapped
her hands around his waist, enjoying the feel of his bare skin against her even
though they were both slick with sweat. “I enjoyed it.”
“Did you?” He stroked her back, his hand
sending ripples of warmth through her as it traveled lazily up and down her
spine.
“Mmm.” She closed her eyes, snuggling
into him. A yawn escaped from her lips, and she thought that, given a few
moments, she might actually drop off to sleep.
“Enough to do it again?”
Her eyes popped open. “What?”
Frowning, Brendan turned to his side,
staring at her with those beautiful pale blue eyes. “You weren’t thinking that
we would sleep together this one time and then we would just go back to
business as usual, were you?”
“Umm…” Callie swallowed. The truth was,
she hadn’t really been thinking much at all, not since he’d ravished her in the
park. “I… I’m not saying it wouldn’t happen again, I just don’t want to make
promises. I’m not committing to anything,” she said firmly.
“Hmm.” He slid his hand down her naked
hip and squeezed her thigh possessively. “So what you’re saying is that you
don’t want to make anything official, but if we were, somehow, to fall back
into bed again, you wouldn’t necessarily protest?”
“That sounds about right.” Callie bit her
lip.
“Then that’s all I really need to know.”
He tucked her back into his side again, holding her gently, and soon his
breathing settled into a slow, steady rhythm that told her he was asleep.
Smiling, Callie curled up into him and
closed her eyes.
Chapter
Eight
A week later, Callie was sitting in her
office at four o’clock on a Friday, drumming her fingers against her desk as
she stared down at her cell phone. She’d spent the last fifteen minutes
debating whether or not she should call Brendan and ask him if he was doing
anything tonight, and she was no closer to making a decision than she had been
since she’d started the internal conversation in her head.
She hadn’t heard from him, or at least
not on a personal level, since the night he’d taken her to bed and made hot, kinky,
passionate love to her, the way she’d secretly always dreamed of but been too
afraid to ask for. He’d already left by the time she’d woken up that morning,
leaving behind a signed copy of the contract and an origami rose.
She’d taken the contract to her office to
sign and fax that morning, and left the rose by her bedside table, which she’d
stared at every night before she went to bed. It was the only reason she wasn’t
completely furious with him; origami roses had been another tradition of his;
whenever they’d been together, he would often leave her love notes, just for
fun, that were wrapped up into an origami rose. She would delight in unfurling
his creations carefully so she could read what was inside, and then would
always try to fold the paper back into place. She’d only succeeded doing so a
handful of times; crafts had never been her thing, though strangely Brendan
took to them like water. He loved to use his hands to make things, which she
supposed was why he was such a good guitarist.
She wasn’t sure if she hadn’t opened the
flower because she was afraid to damage it, or because she was afraid to know
what he’d written inside it.
So what, did you think he was going to
write you some nasty note and dress it up with an origami flower? A voice inside her head
snapped. After everything the two of you opened up to each other about that
night? Get a grip, girl.
Callie sighed. That was the problem. She
couldn’t seem to get a grip. Not where Brendan was concerned.
“Hellooooooo!” Lucinda’s voice rang out,
distracting Callie from her dilemma. Looking up, her eyes widened as
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