Unfinished Seductions Read online

Page 14

I kiss my way down her neck, tasting the salt on her skin. Her collarbones are as delicate as I remember, the hollows warm and secret.

  She sighs deeply and threads her fingers through my hair, kneading my scalp. Sparks surge through my brain, spinning away from her fingertips.

  I reach for the zipper of her dress, letting the fabric peel away and reveal her skin. Thank Jesus she’s not wearing a bra, like usual.

  I have to pause and take in her breasts, which are sweet enough to make me ache. Small and high, with dark, proud nipples—I see these breasts every night in my dreams. I fit my hand to one, savoring her moan of appreciation.

  My cock stiffens against her belly. Christ, just the noises she makes can have me as hard as stone.

  I take a nipple in my mouth, suckle deeply. She tastes like salt and her own warm musk, and the scent of roses is so strong my head spins. Her hand tightens on my head, her moans going broken and breathy.

  I don’t know how I’m going to keep it slow if she keeps sounding like that.

  Focus. It’s what I’m good at, but Callie’s always been able to take my focus and tear it to shreds.

  I pull her dress all the way off, helping her step out of it. She’s left in only her panties and heels, and it’s so fucking erotic my cock stiffens painfully.

  I kiss my way down her belly, lingering over the shallow curve there.

  She thought she was pregnant.

  Our child might have grown here, one we made together. It seems too surreal to have ever been true.

  But of course it wasn’t true. Suddenly I desperately wish it had been. A child… A child would have been wonderful. And Callie never would have left me if we’d had a baby.

  It’s too late for that pregnancy, but maybe we can try for real this time.

  I lift her into my arms and carry her into my bedroom, making good on my promise to get her there safely. As she strips off her panties and kicks away her heels, I tear off my own clothes. Once we’re both naked, I guide her to bed.

  She looks like a dream, one I was terrified would never be real again. But here she is.

  I touch one hipbone, then the other, re-marking my claim there. Mine. You were always mine. She shifts restlessly, her movements languid as lapping waves.

  I love her like this, where desire almost has her hypnotized.

  I dip my fingers into her pussy, circle her clit. Her folds are wet and warm, swollen and welcoming. She lifts her hips toward me.

  I can’t resist any longer. I settle between her legs, rubbing my cock through her folds. Her juices coat our skin.

  I push forward, slow, steady, deep, watching her expression.

  She’s got her bottom lip between her teeth, her cheeks are flushed, and her pulse thrums at the base of her neck. The picture she makes is so arousing I almost come then and there.

  I pull back, grit my teeth. Focus. I thrust deep, going inch by inch, my every muscle clenched.

  She groans deep in her throat, and my climax ticks that much closer, building deep in my spine.

  I find her clit as I keep up my steady movements, all of me focused on her. The rhythm of her breath, the color of her skin as pleasure flushes through her, the way her pussy feels, gripped around my cock. The shifting of her hips as she moves with me, the marks her teeth have left in her lip, and the fluttering of her eyelids.

  When she comes, I’m already expecting it. The rush of her juices on my cock, the way all of her tightens in anticipation have told me. The pulse of her pussy around me is slow but deep, and my cock responds.

  I thrust once, twice, three times quickly, and then I’m gone too, coming inside my wife. Coming home.

  I can’t let her go. Not again.

  When she opens her eyes, I inhale, sharply. Callie is so beautiful she’s always taken my breath away. But in this moment, her skin flushed and a smile curving her lips, she’s beyond beautiful.

  “We should do this again,” she says with a sleepy smile.

  “Oh, we will. In about five minutes, if you can wait that long.” Maybe less if she keeps looking like that. Already my cock is stirring again.

  She laughs, and the sound is warm and soothing all at once. “No. Well, yes, definitely do that again. But I meant going out with Mark and January.”

  I watch her for a moment. Was it really that simple all along? I just take her out with friends occasionally and everything is suddenly good again?

  No, it’s not that simple. I wish it were. But she’s made a simple request here that I’m happy to honor.

  “Sure,” I say. “We’ll definitely do that.”

  Chapter 23

  I’m about to shatter the lovely calm of the day.

  Last night was… fun. I put my hand over my mouth, holding in my smile. Why hadn’t we done something like that before?

  Because Mark had never dated anyone before or at least not long enough for Logan to introduce us. Theirs was always a very male world, or so it seemed to me.

  Things are different now. So different that Logan is sitting in our office, typing away, completely focused on his work. But still here, with me.

  We had a leisurely breakfast, then went off to our office together. Things are quiet and content.

  It’s lovely having him here but also difficult because I need to call my mom, which means I have to sneak away.

  I get up from my chair and grab my phone. “I’ll, uh, be right back.”

  He frowns as he looks up. “Is everything okay? Who are you calling?”

  He’s thinking that I’m calling Julian—the tension around his mouth is a dead giveaway—but to his credit, Logan doesn’t say it.

  “My mom.”

  He actually flinches, which is funny because I’m the one who has to talk to her. “Tell her hi.” Hi comes out under strain.

  I can only imagine his last conversation with my mother, when he told her about the divorce and she admitted where I was. She wasn’t supposed to tell, not that my wishes would stop her if she thought something was for my own good.

  And talking to my mom isn’t easy under the best of circumstances. She’s strong and determined and takes no shit, but I imagine it’s kind of like having Athena for a mother. She’s going on and on about all the divine intervention she’s been doing and all the smiting, and all you really wanted was chicken nuggets for dinner. Like some kind of boring mortal.

  “I will,” I say. “Along with some other things.”

  Logan turns back to his computer, but I recognize it as a strategic retreat.

  I make my way to the living room, curling up into one of the nooks built into the windows. The City spreads out before me, the fog gone for once.

  I’d like to sketch this as an illustration—strong lines, bold primary colors, something like Mondrian but way less abstract. I want to see the people and the buildings and the cars, the life sprawling over the grid of streets.

  Meowthra climbs up into my lap and yowls.

  “You’ve got a set of lungs on you.”

  He blinks. I can’t tell if he’s agreeing or offended. I keep petting him, enjoying his soft fur and the comforting weight of him on my lap.

  After a while he blinks again. This time it’s accusing.

  “Okay, I’ll call her.”

  My heart is racing as I dial the number, my hands clumsy, but I manage to do it.

  “Hello?” Mom always answers as if she doesn’t know who it is, even with caller ID. She’s not a technology truster.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Honey.” Oh boy, she’s really happy. Probably because she thinks I’m about to tell her about the divorce. “How are you?”

  “I’m good.” I take a deep breath, but my head still feels light. “I’m in San Francisco. Back home.”

  There’s nothing on the other end but her sharp intake of breath. “What? You were supposed to be getting a divorce. You went back to him?”

  Jeez, she doesn’t have to make it sound like that. “Mom, calm down please. Besides, you told him w
here I was.”

  “Because he said he was going to give you a divorce.” She’s not the least bit apologetic. “I thought you could finally finish this.”

  “You really want my marriage to end?” I ask that quietly, because hearing her say it out loud is a shock. I knew that’s what she wanted, but the bald way she states it is still a gut punch.

  There’s a long pause. I can see her in my mind’s eye—she’s at her kitchen table, staring out at her backyard. She decided to take up gardening in her retirement, and like everything else she ever decided to do, she’s amazing at it.

  “No, of course not,” she says finally. “What I really want is for you to be happy. And you weren’t. Aren’t.”

  Am I happy now? I think so—at least I’m not as miserable as I was before I left—but I was also happy at the beginning of our marriage.

  “Things feel different now.” I turn in the direction of the office, where Logan is working. “And there might have been extenuating circumstances.”

  “He was never home. What’s to excuse?”

  I decide not to tell Mom about Logan’s dad again—I’ve explained before, but she just doesn’t get it. Having raised me entirely on her own, and also having been there for me at every turn, she can’t understand how everyone couldn’t do that.

  I love my mom, but she’s so nearsighted when it comes to other people she needs glasses.

  “One of Logan’s rivals might have set him up.” I try to think of a way to explain it to her—she doesn’t even read the newspapers, much less websites. “There were these pictures that I thought meant he was cheating, but his rival was putting them up to mess with us.”

  “I don’t understand. Even without those pictures, whatever they are, there were still problems.”

  I know. I press my palm hard against my forehead, my fingers cold. I know all that. “I’m not saying everything is fine now. But we’re working together on something. If he’s changed… I have to try.”

  Mom sighs, a deep one that says I still think you’re wrong, but I’m going to let you make your own mistakes. “Fine. When you disappear this time, can I tell him where you are? Or will you really mean it then?”

  There’s no malice there. Or even sarcasm. She just thinks my marriage is doomed to fail.

  “You’ll do whatever you want anyway.” God, I sound like a surly teen again.

  “No. I’ll do what keeps you safe. But really, hiding from your husband for months? Callie, you needed to decide if you wanted to be married or not. You can’t live your life in limbo.”

  She’s right. I hate it, but she’s right. “I’ve decided to be married again, I guess.” I run my fingers through Meowthra’s fur. “Like I said, things are different. Logan and I are working together on a big project.”

  “What are you working on? I’m so glad to hear you have a job again.”

  I perk up. “It’s a website. This rival of Logan’s…” I’m not sure how to explain Fuchs and TidBytes to my mother, so I stop. “Well, it’s going to be news about the tech world, some gossip, and I’m going to ask some people I know to do columns.”

  I don’t mention The Silicon Wife because I never told my mom about that. If she knew I wrote a secret blog, it would break her heart. She’s always believed in being loud and proud, and The Silicon Wife isn’t any of those things.

  “Oh. Something that isn’t so male-focused then?” she asks.

  I smile, because I was expecting that. “Yep.”

  “Good. It’s about time that place listened to some women.”

  I’m not one of them, I’m only a graphic designer, a wife—what do I have to say? tingles on my lips. I hold it back because I recognize it as self-defeating, and I already know what my mother’s answer would be.

  Women see things men don’t. Especially women looking from the outside in.

  What did I see of Silicon Valley that others didn’t?

  Well, as a graphic designer, I saw their contempt for anyone not part of their dudebro programmers’ club. If I had a nickel for every coder I came across who thought he could do my job no problem, I’d be as rich as Logan.

  As a wife, I saw the strained marriages and families as the men exalted work above all else, reaching for one more multibillion-dollar deal.

  Logan never treated me with contempt, he always respected my skills, but as a husband…

  We’ll have to make this time different.

  “There will definitely be plenty of women on staff,” I say.

  “It sounds very interesting,” Mom says. “And you sound excited about it. I haven’t heard that from you in a while.”

  It’s true. I haven’t felt this excited about something in a while. And nervous too, because the deeper I look into setting up an entire website, the more I realize what needs to be done. Every day the to-do list just gets longer and longer.

  “I’m enjoying it,” I say. Meowthra butts my hand, demanding pets. I blink at him—he’s never done that before. “And I got a cat. You remember the one in the rental? He came with me.”

  “How does he like city life? He seemed to be a pretty independent guy.”

  I scratch behind his ears, and he purrs like an old engine sputtering to life. Meowthra never was an elegant purrer.

  “He’s taken to the high life like a duck to water. He never even bothers to go outside anymore, and he’s claimed an entire corner of the living room for himself.”

  “What does Logan think?”

  I lower my voice to an amused whisper. “The cat sleeps on Logan. Like, right on his chest.”

  Mom tries to hold in her laugh, which comes out as a snort. “I can’t imagine. Wait.” Seriousness ripples through her voice. “Are you sleeping together again?”

  “Okay, Mom, I think we’re done discussing this.” Meowthra bounds off my lap, clearly upset by the tone of the conversation.

  “You’re so uptight, Calliope. I taught you to be sex positive.”

  “Which is great, except when I’m discussing sex with my own mother.”

  “Well, you can talk to me about anything.” There’s a pause, and I sense my mother gathering her thoughts. “I mean that, sweetie. I’m your mom, and I’m always here for you. We’ve got to stick together.”

  I pick at a cat hair on my pants, feeling my eyes sting. She used to say that all the time when I was growing up—we’d always have each other as long as we stuck together. I can always go home to her if I need to. I’ve always known that.

  “Thanks, Mom,” I say through a tight throat. “I’m here for you too.”

  “Oh, honey, I don’t need help. I’m not messing around with some man.”

  That man is my husband, but it’s useless to point that out. My mom was happier on her own, so why wouldn’t I be?

  “I still really like that man,” I say calmly.

  Which is true and also the heart of my problem.

  Chapter 24

  We’ve arrived at Roasted at exactly noon, just as I wanted. When you’re ambushing someone, always arrive early.

  The lunch rush has already started, but I manage to snag a table for Callie and me near the back. It’s got a good view of the entire café—especially the back corner—which is perfect for what I’ve got planned.

  “I’ve never been here before.” Callie looks around as I pull out the chair for her, her gaze landing on the hand-lettered signboard advertising the menu. Her mouth screws up in the most enchanting way—she’s probably redesigning the sign in her head. “Is the food any good?”

  I shrug. “You don’t come here for the food.”

  “They why did we come?” She settles into the chair in spite of her protest. “I could’ve made something at home.”

  I wish we could’ve. A cozy lunch with just Callie, followed by maybe an hour or so in bed together. Yeah, that sounds way better than this place.

  An itch sets up at the back of my brain. You can’t take time off in the middle of the day. You need to call Anjie, get the workmen mov
ing on your office—

  I squash the rest of that. This is work. And I haven’t let Callie distract me at home. Yet.

  “You come here because everyone else is here,” I say.

  Her gaze scans the room again, this time taking in all the people. “Are we meeting someone?”

  I adjust my jacket, getting myself ready for the big moment. “More like ambushing them.”

  “What?”

  I ignore that. “How was your phone call with your mom?”

  “Fine. She—” Callie shakes her head. “We’re not talking about my mom. What about the ambush?”

  “Don’t worry about it.” The door opens then, a group of five worried-looking engineers coming in. When I see who’s coming in behind them, my every sense sharpens. “Look, I want you to be calm. There’s nothing to fear from him.”

  Fuchs hasn’t seen us yet as he makes his way to his usual table. After Mark humiliated him here in front of the CEO of Pixio, you’d think Fuchs wouldn’t come back or would at least randomize his schedule. But no, he’s just got to be here, same as he is every week.

  Callie’s face goes bone white when she sees who I’m looking at. “Wait, you knew he’d be here?”

  I grab her hand, pull her up, and start to drag her over. “Yep. He eats lunch here with whichever employees he wants to ream. Tuesdays at twelve thirty. On the dot.”

  She pulls against me, stumbling slightly in her heels. “I don’t want to meet him.”

  “We’re not meeting him. We’re confronting him.”

  I don’t bother to smile as I bear down on Fuchs. Leave that shit to Mark—Fuchs is going to know I’m good and pissed and out for blood.

  His assistant, the ice-cold Minerva, is sitting next to him. Fuchs whispers to her, and she dismisses the other employees with a quick word.

  Suddenly I wish I’d brought Elliot. He could go a few rounds with Minerva for me. But Elliot sets Callie off, and I don’t want her any more upset than she has to be.

  But she also has to see Fuchs, look him in the eye, and realize he’s just a man. That we can defeat him.

  My first thought was to do this on my own, to protect Callie from this confrontation. Yes, Fuchs targeted her, but I’m the one to defend her. I’m the one to take on her burdens.