Chapter 16
Calli
Calli awoke in a cloud of white, the room painfully bright, and squinted through the glass wall over the city. Oh shit, I just had sex with someone on the first real date. And . . . I slept over. One for the record books, Calli. She looked under the covers and gasped. I’m still naked. She took in the lay of the land, the door they’d fumbled through, kissing and unable to keep their hands off one another. Calli blushed. Her dress lay in a pool on the floor beside the window. Damn, those are the only clothes I have to put on. She rolled her eyes and searched for a dresser or closet—none—only another open door leading to a bathroom. Speaking of . . . Calli flipped the covers and scurried to take care of morning necessities.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she found a thick terry cloth robe hanging behind the door. It smelled of Dom, clean as a fresh spring morning; she smiled as she slipped into it and tied the belt. Washing her hands, she caught a glimpse of her disheveled hair in the mirror and makeup smudges beneath her eyes. He’s up, and he’s already seen me like this . . . geez, what a wonderful impression. She ran her fingers through the tangled curls and braided her hair over one shoulder. The ends remained loose, but it held well enough to control the flyaways.
She scrubbed under her eyes with wet fingers and wiped away the black smudges with a tissue—at least he kept those handy. Calli ran her tongue over her teeth and cringed at the taste in her mouth. Rummaging through the drawers, she found a tube of toothpaste and a toothbrush. They’d shared a lot more than a toothbrush at this point. She considered. No, I couldn’t, she decided at last and brushed her teeth with some of the paste on her finger. It wasn’t perfect but much better.
When she emerged from the bath, the bedroom was still empty. At least he wasn’t waiting with the oh-so-cliché breakfast-in-bed scenario. Calli straightened the bed, reimagining their shared need the night—or early morning—before with a smile. She admonished herself mildly; but considering that she was a mature woman, they were safe, and it was the best night she’d had in probably fifteen years, she easily came to terms with it. And it had been like puzzle pieces fitting together. They’d each been a match for the other’s wants and desires, an improvised call and response.
Calli picked up her dress and his jacket, draping them both over the bed. She was beginning to wonder where he’d gone, or maybe it’d all been a dream. No, that was simply a silly thought. She’d woken here in his apartment, naked, and the soreness had been more proof. She went for the door.
Outside the bedroom, Dom’s loft was enormous, made to look only larger by the full glass walls and the blue sky above the city skyline. Calli turned from the view. The apartment was minimalist with two white hard couches presenting a formal sitting area and a square table with four straight-backed chairs. Stuffy was the word that came to mind. The kitchen, though, was 100 percent gourmet with an island offering eat-in seating for six.
“Hi, beautiful.” Dom, dressed only in gray jersey casual pants, stepped off the stool at the island bar and sauntered over. Without hesitation, he slipped his arms around Calli and landed a kiss on her temple. Calli placed a hand on his washboard stomach and looked into his smiling eyes and smiled back. “Enjoy the view?”
“Mmhmm,” said Calli, inhaling the rich smells deeply through her nose. “Coffee?”
“I’ll make you a cappuccino,” he said but didn’t move. Instead, he lowered his head to kiss her good morning. Thank the stars she’d found the toothpaste.
His lips made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and when he stepped away and behind the counter, it left her cool. Stop it, Calli. It’s too soon, she reminded herself, but her eyes betrayed her by thoroughly enjoying the sight of him in the kitchen, bare-chested and preparing the espresso machine to make her a gourmet cup of coffee.
She circled the island to watch as he worked the machine. He glanced up and asked, “Sugar?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head.
“Foam: a lot or little?”
“A lot.”
“The way I like it too.” He placed two shot glasses under the drips, poured milk into the metal carafe, and turned the knob to start the steamer. As it swished, then gurgled, he slowly pulled the carafe away, allowing the foam to thickly form. After he’d poured the espresso into the cup, he topped it with foam. He stepped behind her, cradled her back into his chest, and brought the cup to her hands. A stack of brown hearts decorating the white foam looked back at her. Accepting the cup, Calli grinned and rested her head against his shoulder.
“Thank you,” she said.
“My absolute pleasure.” Dom kissed her neck, sending a thrill up her spine again.
Calli stifled her shiver in an effort to save the coffee and willed herself to enjoy the feel of his soft, warm mouth on her body again.
“Did you want breakfast?” he asked. “I’d love to cook for you.”
Calli sipped the coffee, then swallowed and wiped the foam from her upper lip. “Can I take a rain check on that? I have a few chores to get done before work tomorrow.” She didn’t know why, but she didn’t feel ready to tell him about the details of her life—the boys, that her father was coming, or least of all her ex.
“Of course,” he said, but dropped his head and stepped away.
Again, she felt cold when he moved away. Sensing a small sadness, Calli rushed, “Hey.” She paused for him to turn back and look at her. “I definitely want you to cook for me someday.” She stepped into him. “But I get the feeling it could be something that could take a very long time and lead to other activities.”
A spark flashed in his eyes. “There’s no need to cook for the other activities.” He tugged on the robe’s ties.
Calli eyed him with raised brows.
“Okay, okay.” He held up his hands, clearly understanding her unspoken words and thankfully taking it with good spirits. “Drink your coffee and I’ll take you home.”
Calli lifted the coffee and sipped again; the woodsy, dark flavor was delightful on her tongue. “I hate to ask this.” She dipped a finger in the foam and licked it.
“If you keep making suggestive motions like that, all your attempts to resist are going to be quite ineffective.” Dom raised a brow over one silvery green eye.
“What?” Calli said, faking innocence, then dipped her finger in the foam again.
Dom seized her hand and put her finger in his mouth. Closing his lips around it, he sucked gently, reminding her of similar actions the night before.
Calli groaned and, in the daylight, blushed. “All right. Point made. But, unfortunately, I really don’t have the time today. I’m sorry.”
“What do you hate to ask?” Dom said.
“Oh, do you happen to have any sweats I could wear home?”
Dom
Dom pulled his M3 into Calli’s drive. In the light of day, the neighborhood reminded him of the home in the country where he’d grown up. The houses all had small seating areas and flowers or wreaths on the porches welcoming guests. The colors were all warm browns, obviously intended to be inviting. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect on him. It was the quaint upper middle class he’d run from with everything he’d had. He’d watched his mother cater to his father for years and his father have affair after affair. His mother had known all along but stayed. She’d believed that her only son needed his father. What a fucking joke that had been!