Dirty Thoughts (8 page)

Chapter Eleven

T
HEY ATE
C
ORN
Pops and Honey Smacks on the floor of her living room. Cal leaned against the couch, and Jenna sat cross-legged on the floor.

They’d done this so many times in high school, she could barely count. She’d lied a lot back then, telling her parents she was spending the night at Delilah’s, when really, she was at Cal’s. His dad didn’t care when he’d stumbled out of his bedroom in the middle of the night to pee and caught them cuddling on the couch with bowls of cereal on their laps.

She didn’t know what it was about cereal, but if she was having trouble falling asleep, all she needed was a bowl of carbs and milk, and she’d sleep like a baby. Of course, she’d always slept the best in Cal’s arms.

Cal had finished his cereal, and the bowl sat on the coffee table. His legs were bent, wrists braced on his knees. His head was leaned back on the couch seat behind him, but his eyes were on her. He was still barefoot and shirtless, wearing the pair of old jeans he hadn’t even bothered to button.

She didn’t know what happened now. Their visions for the future were so different. Cal was resigned to a life of bachelorhood, and she wanted a life partner, a family.

It pained her to see how much his vision of the future had changed. At one time, that had been all they talked about, making a life together in Tory. Sure, they’d been eighteen, but they’d meant every word. She was sure of it.

And now, Cal couldn’t be more adamant that he was fine with a life of bachelorhood. She didn’t think it was necessary to have marriage and a family to be happy, but Cal had always been so family-oriented. And he’d talked all the time about starting a family with her. It’d been the one thing that was sure to put him in a good mood.

Their connection was still white-hot, but they were going to douse it in a bucket of ice themselves. Again. Was it possible there was another man out there who would make her want and feel and
crave
as strongly as Cal did?

Maybe that wasn’t in the cards for her. She’d meet a nice man—husband and father material—who wasn’t grumbly and wasn’t stubborn. Hopefully, he’d still like to eat cereal in the middle of the night.

This didn’t feel like enough, this time they’d had, half of it discussing the past and the future they’d never have. She wanted to live in the moment, the present, and enjoy a little time with Cal where they weren’t reminded of all the reasons they couldn’t be together.

“Do you have plans tomorrow?” she asked.

Cal’s head slowly tilted forward until he pierced her with those slate eyes. His gaze flicked to clock overhead and then back to her. “Do you mean today?”

“Right, today, Saturday. You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t have plans on Saturday.”

“So spend the day with me,” she blurted.

He didn’t react.

“Just a day, Cal. A day where we don’t think about everything we had and everything we could have, but we just . . . enjoy the now.” He opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “I’m glad you told me what you did, about not wanting a family, rather than let us go on and raise my hopes. So all I’m asking for is a day. And then . . . that’s it. We’ll move on and coexist in Tory and that will be that. We’ll remain history.” Her voice cracked on the last word. He must have heard it, because he flinched slightly. His jaw tensed, the muscles moving beneath this skin.

He was silent for so long, she wondered if he’d fallen asleep with his eyes open. And just when she thought about reneging on the whole offer, he said quietly, “Okay, I’d like that.”

So this was it. And while this attraction was still hot between them—hotter than ever—that didn’t seem like it was enough anymore. They were two separate people who wanted two separate things.

But for now, for one day, they’d want the same things.

Jenna crawled toward Cal. He unclasped his hands and let his knees spread farther apart so she could wedge herself between them.

Cal’s tan was uneven, a little redneck. But he’d always looked like that. This was Cal, a guy who didn’t give a shit about tan lines while he was bent over the hood of his car.

She ran her fingers over that tattoo. Damn him. She’d almost swallowed her tongue when she’d seen it. “Were you angry when you got this?”

The dim light in the room made his pale eyes glow. “No.” He paused for a minute, and she knew he was sorting the words out in his head, in that way he had. Cal didn’t like to start talking until he knew exactly what was going to come out. “I was lonely and drunk.”

“Cal,” she whispered.

“It’s done, and I don’t regret it.”

“It’s hot,” she admitted.

His laugh was husky. “Glad you think so.”

She ran her hands over his skin, feeling the imperfections, the scars from high school football and accidents at the garage. Cal was so different than a lot of the polished executives she’d dated in New York.

Cal was . . . real.

Her hands drifted down to the open button of his pants. She lowered the zipper, and Cal’s stomach expanded and contracted as he took deep breaths. She wiggled down onto her hands and knees and then peered up at Cal. He was watching her with narrowed eyes.

“You didn’t let me finish earlier,” she said, pulling out his shaft and stroking it slowly.

He shifted his body lower and his lips twitched. “I’ll be a gentleman and let you finish now.”

She opened her mouth and took him in. He grunted softly above her, and his hand rested on the back of her neck. But he didn’t push, and she took her time, opening her jaws wide to take him in as much as she could and then sucked hard as she pulled off his shaft. She swirled her tongue around the head and performed every single trick she knew—most of them learned from Delilah.

A lot of girls complained about giving head, but Jenna wasn’t one of them—if it was a guy she really wanted to give pleasure. She thought of it as a gift. Something she wanted to give, but she wasn’t up for giving it out to anybody, because hell, blow jobs were work.

But Cal? She’d suck Cal for all he was worth. She intended to suck his brain out through his dick until he was half comatose, and if the writhing of his hips and soft curses were any indication, she was doing a hell of a job of achieving her goal.

And Jenna MacMillan had always been an overachiever.

She took a breath, opened wide, and took him down the back of her throat, swallowing around the head of his cock.

Cal came on a gasp and her name, shooting his release on her tongue.

Jenna rose to the sight of Cal’s head thrown back on the couch cushions, his eyes closed. She leaned against his chest and curled her arms around his neck. He didn’t move. He didn’t hug her. A small moan escaped his lips. She grinned against his skin. “You okay?” He didn’t answer her right away, and she began to giggle. “Cal?”

“I need . . . a minute,” he croaked.

She laughed harder. “Wow, it must have been a really bad blow job if you can’t even face me afterward. I’ll make sure not to wake you up with one tomorrow or anything.”

His head shot up. His eyes were glassy and a little unfocused. “What? Wait, what? You’ll do that?”

“Well, if it was bad, then—”

He grabbed her head and smashed his lips into hers, licking into her mouth, tangling his tongue with hers. He pulled out of the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. “Best I ever had.”

“Yeah?”

He leaned back so he could look her in the eye. “Well, actually, my high school girlfriend was really good at that.”

Jenna huffed. “Oh yeah? Where is she, so I can go beat her up?”

Cal’s smile slowly faded, but his features remained soft. “Ah, no need to do that. Didn’t know it was possible, but I like you more.”

Damn Cal and his honesty. His fingers teased the edges of her robe.

She shook her head. “How about we go to bed, because I’m about to fall asleep on my feet, and you owe me tomorrow.”

His grin returned. “I owe you, huh?”

She nodded.

“Sounds like a win-win for everyone.”

Jenna rolled her eyes and stood up. She reached for the cereal bowls, but Cal pulled up his pants and beat her to it. “You go on up. I’ll take care of these, lock the door, and turn out the lights, okay?”

“Sounds perfect.” And as Jenna walked up the stairs to the bedroom, she realized how domestic it all sounded.

She wondered if Cal had noticed. She wondered if he liked it.

C
AL WAS HOT
. He didn’t remember ever waking up and it being this hot. He had central air conditioning, and he didn’t have a damn dog. He was serious about that “not being responsible for another living thing” vow.

He inhaled and immediately smelled
Jenna
. His eyes popped open. He was lying on his side, his arm slung around a female waist, and her head was tucked right under his chin, brunette hair in a mass of waves on white sheets. And then he remembered—he was in Jenna’s house.

He told himself to pull away, to roll out of the bed and walk away, but his body wasn’t dumb. It was warm, and he had a naked woman pressed against him. A naked Jenna. This—he could get used to this. But this would lead to
that
and the
other thing
or a
couple of things
and
family
and
no
. Just no. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t do this—that a life of bachelorhood was fine, and he’d dote on nieces and nephews.

But as her warmth seeped into his skin, he cursed himself. Because even though he couldn’t give her a wedding or kids or anything long term—hell, he didn’t even want to promise her Labor Day—he wanted her, needed her, for a little bit longer. He knew it would probably only increase the pain when this ended, but he was going to focus on instant gratification now and forget about next week. Because now, he had Jenna in his arms, her scent on his skin, and he wanted her there a little bit longer.

This had always been good between them. So he was glad they had one more day together. And it was still the morning. His dick was hard, pressing into the cleft of her ass. He had to grit his teeth not to thrust like an animal until he came all over the small of her back.

Good morning! I rutted against you while you were asleep. Sorry about that.

Plus, he owed her.

He grinned to himself and fanned his hand out on her stomach. She was waking up now, making small snuffling sounds. He nuzzled down to kiss behind her ear. She lifted her shoulder and made a sound of protest, because she was ticklish as hell. He always had to warm her up, because if she wasn’t turned on, all she would do was giggle whenever he touched her. So he needed to work harder until she was aroused and no longer ticklish.

He slid his hand lower, until his little finger touched the top of the curls between her legs. She shifted her thighs restlessly and made a small whimper at the back of her throat.

When he ran his nose along the shell of her ear, she shivered. He trailed his fingers up her stomach to her breasts, flicking a thumb over her peaked nipples. She moaned his name and pushed her butt back into his groin.

He lowered his head to her neck and placed open-mouthed kisses on her skin. She didn’t giggle or shy away, and he smiled, because she was ready now.

He lowered his hand again and dipped a middle finger into her slit, sliding it through the wetness. “Oh God,” she said and curled an arm around his head, her hand clutching his hair.

“Give me some room,” he ordered. And she did, immediately, separating her thighs by hooking one leg behind his.

And then, it was easy to work her. He dipped two fingers inside of her, plunging them in and out, while his thumb worked her clit. She gripped his hair harder and panted, riding his fingers. She had no inhibitions when she got going, no self-consciousness about how she looked or the sounds she was making. She just let go.

Her breasts rocked with their movements, and he could stare at them all day, those rosy nipples begging for his mouth.
Later,
he thought. He still had the rest of the day.

When she came, she came hard, crying out his name, grinding herself down onto his fingers. He left them in as the orgasm slowed, rubbing slightly until she angled her hips so they slipped out. Her hand that gripped his hair fell to the bed in front of her. “Jesus, Cal.”

Then she reached forward, opened up a drawer, and pulled out a condom. She opened the wrapper and handed it to him over her shoulder.

He didn’t question it. He slipped it on, rolled her onto her stomach, and kneeled between her legs. He opened her up wide with his knees and entered her from behind.

She bit her pillow as he thrust in and out of her sensitive flesh. He was so wound up from watching her come all over his hand that it didn’t take long. He raised himself up on his hands and watched her face where it was turned so the light from the window highlighted her features.

He let his gaze fall, taking in her narrow waist and full hips. He loved those hips, and if he had the energy, he would have pulled her up onto her knees, gripped her ass, and rode her hard. What a fucking view.

He’d save it for later.

But even the thought had his balls drawing up tight, his spine tingling, and then he was coming on a soft exhale of her name.

He fell onto his stomach on the bed beside her. Her head was turned to face him. She was disheveled, and her face was clean of makeup, and he swore this was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

He thought about what it would be like to wake up to her every day. Just like this, with her fresh face on the pillow next to his and her warm skin pressed against him.

But that was a fantasyland. Still, she needed to know just how much this meant to him. He brushed her hair off her forehead and pressed a kiss to her temple, letting his lips linger there. “There’s not a cloud in the sky, but all the sunshine is right here in this bed.”

He didn’t wait for her reply. He stood up and walked toward the bathroom.

When he walked back out to the bedroom, he found she hadn’t moved. He crawled back under the sheets and lay beside her on his back, his arm tucked behind his head. He really wanted a cigarette, but lying with a naked Jenna won.