Oh, she thought. Oh, my.
He rolled on the condom with those ever-so-precise movements that she was coming to learn meant he was intensely focused. When he was done, he scanned the room.
“On the bed,” he told her.
She slid her panties off and turned to tug the comforter and top sheet down. As she started to sit on the mattress, he stopped her.
“On your knees,” he said.
The words had her clenching her thighs together as another pulse of sexual heat struck her. She once again followed his directions, climbing onto the bed so she was on all fours, her knees at the edge of the mattress.
He reached down and spread her legs further apart, exposing her completely to him. His fingers drifted down and moved over her sensitive flesh as though gauging how ready she was for him. She drew in a sharp breath as pleasure speared through her.
She glanced at him over her shoulder when she felt him press against her.
“Look up,” he said.
She did. Her eyes met his in the mirror of her vanity. And they both watched as he penetrated her.
“Fuck,” they both groaned when he was finally inside her.
She might have found that amusing any other time. Now she didn’t care about anything besides her nearly savage need.
He didn’t move at first. His hands tightened around her hips for a beat before they relaxed, telling her he was doing his best to regain some of his control. She leaned back, taking him in even deeper and provoking more groans from both of them.
Her new position brought her closer to him. He took advantage of that, reaching around and cupping her breasts. His fingers found her nipples and pinched them, sending jolts of pleasure shooting through her. Watching him touch her in the mirror amplified the experience. She was sure her neighbors were going to lodge a noise complaint if her moans got any louder.
He tormented her for a while just like that. Then, just as she was about to start begging, he lowered his hand and rubbed against her in just the right spot. It only took a couple of strokes before her orgasm pounded through her.
Callan gripped her hips and started to move, driving into her again and again. Her hips lifted and lowered to meet each powerful thrust. Another orgasm built right on the edge of her last one. The sight of his expression in the mirror as he sought his release was enough to bring her to the brink.
And when he climaxed, the absolute ecstasy on his face sent her over again.
It took a minute for him to finally release her and step back. When he did, he stumbled to the side and sat heavily on the bed.
“Shit,” he said between pants of breath. “Can’t even stand.”
Very little could have pleased her more than knowing she had so thoroughly satisfied him. She eased herself off the bed as he removed the condom and tied it off.
“Where can I toss this?” he asked around a wide yawn.
“I’ll take it. I’d like to clean up a little anyway.” She gave him a scan as she took it from him, noting the shadows under his eyes that she hadn’t paid attention to earlier. “Why don’t you relax for a few minutes?”
“Probably a good idea,” he mumbled. “Just to get my second wind.”
He lifted his legs up onto the mattress and leaned back against the pillows, which was good, Roxy thought. It would save her from figuring out how to maneuver him onto the bed in a few minutes when he passed out.
She went to the bathroom and disposed of the condom. Then she hopped into the shower since she wasn’t sure what her morning was going to look like now.
Much as she suspected, she returned to the bedroom to find Callan fast asleep. He had tucked his arm under her pillow and turned onto his side, offering her quite the view of his exceptional ass. The light sound of snoring reached her.
What to do? she wondered.
Typically, she would wake the guy up and nudge him out the door. She didn’t do overnights. It led to too many expectations and she preferred keeping things casual.
But had Callan seemed so exhausted when she first saw him standing outside the office. Not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually. She reminded herself that he was a soul in need of comfort, and showing him compassion was simply something any decent person should do.
Although her inner voice warned her it was a bad idea, she raised the top sheet up to cover him, grabbed her laptop from her desk, and went out to get some work done in the family room.
Just one night, she told herself.
* * *
He didn’t stir throughout the night. She decided to pull out the twin bed sofa sleeper from her loveseat and slept on it, not wanting to disturb him by climbing into bed with him.
It appeared her caution hadn’t been necessary. He slept through her reassembling her family room the next morning, as well as her time in the bathroom getting ready for the day. Since she didn’t have any client meetings, she planned to work from home. She put on a simple pair of denim cut-offs and a tank top, tugged her hair into a messy bun, and decided to forgo the makeup, determined to make the most of her casual day.
More than ten hours after Callan fell asleep, Roxy stood at the foot of her bed staring at him with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. She really needed to figure out a way to get him out of her apartment so she could focus on her work. He was one huge distraction that she really didn’t need right now.
But, damn it, he was fucking delectable. How could a guy look so good while sleeping?
Thirty more minutes, she told herself.
She returned to her kitchen counter where she had set up her temporary workstation and dug into her emails.
A knock sounded at the door some time later. She glanced behind her to see if the noise had woken Callan, forgetting the bed wasn’t visible from her angle because she had pulled the bedroom door nearly all the way closed. Rising, she went to the door and opened it without looking through the peephole to prevent another loud knock.
She winced when she saw who it was.
You should’ve looked through the peephole, Rox.
“Ms. Wagner,” her landlord said in his deep, resonant voice, “I’m sure you know why I’m here.”
Of course she knew. That was why she had been dodging his calls and emails for the past few days.
She decided to respond with charm. Leaning on her doorjamb and giving him her brightest smile, she replied, “Yes, Mr. Stilinski. I’m aware I’m a little late with this month’s—”
“Your rent was due five days ago,” he interrupted. “This is becoming an unfortunate pattern with you. This is the third month in a row.”
Say it a little louder, she thought darkly. I don’t think the neighbors upstairs heard you.
“Yes, sir. I—”
“The standard grace period is three days, Ms. Wagner.”
Her nostrils flared over being interrupted again. “I’m aware of that.” When he started to speak again, she plowed on, “I’ll bring you the check by the end of this week.”
“You have until end of business tomorrow.”
Her heart sank. “Mr. Stilinski, I don’t get paid until the end of the week.” And that was if her client’s closing didn’t get postponed.
Again.
“That’s too damn bad,” her landlord barked. “No one lives here rent free.”
She rose to her full height, which was nearly two inches taller than his five-foot-eight. “You know who does live here?” she said, all trace of charm gone. “Seven tenants that I recommended move here over the past three years, all without collecting the referral fee you claim you’ll pay people. How about we talk about that?”