Chapter Thirty-Four

Drunk chicks were fun.

Well, not when they vomited all over your shoes or your hair. Fuck, there was nothing worse than getting puke in your hair, especially someone else’s.

Jon laughed, he had to admit seeing Callie plastered was pretty fucking amusing. He ran his hands over her back and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her jeans.

“So feeling a little naughty are we, Ms. Richards?”

She nipped at his chin and her eyes flicked up, playful and blue, they called to him. Fuck. He traced his knuckle around the soft curve of her breast and brushed over her nipple, grinning when it became rock hard.

He shifted his knee between her legs, her breathing hitched when denim ground against heat. Her eyes widened and her slick little lips parted.

He groaned when she kissed him, her thumbs scraping over his nipples.

“Callie,” he growled shifting his hands up her back, her skin warm and silky under his hands.

Tequila agreed with Callie.

He ran his thumbs down the dip in her spine, feeling her vibrate against him. There was something in the power of touch, so simple yet so effective.

His lips traced over her nose, barely touching skin and settled on her lips. She tasted like tequila and sin. His hands slid under cotton until his fingertips brushed against lace.

Lace drove him mad. A woman in lingerie and smelling like sweet seduction was enough to make him wish they were alone so he could sink into her.

“Come on.” He tugged her past Doc, and down the hallway. People were scattered everywhere, smoking and drinking. He pushed through the plumes of smoke and found his room.

“Fuck,” he muttered as two girls sat cross-legged on his bed, wearing tiny tops and skirts.

He didn’t give Callie a chance to comment as he whirled her further down the hall desperate to find somewhere that they could be alone. He needed her now. People blurred by them as her laughter trailed behind them, with an extra hiccup or two.

“Jonny, where are we going?”

He backed her into the swinging door, into a room full of stainless steel benches that stretched across the room. Brass and steel utensils dripped from the racks, along with copper pots. Plates stacked the walls, and the smell of lemon bleach stung his nostrils.

Blissfully empty.

“This is the kitchen!” Her eyes grew wide and she slapped her hand over her mouth. “We can’t do this here!”

Even for a drunk Callie, her animated moves and big gestures were out of character. She was kind of amusing, really.

He whirled her in close. “I don’t care.” He captured her mouth with his and held her tight against him. The heat and smell of her swept him under a spell. His tongue dove in, exploring each corner of her mouth with a taste he only knew now as Callie.

Dark and heady, warm and thick, she punched through him until he felt it in his gut. His cock stretched against the denim of his jeans, god he needed to be inside her.

She lifted her hands onto his cheek and leaned into the kiss, he swallowed the moan that left her throat. Each sigh, each moan shot straight to his belly.

He backed her up, until she bumped against the rounded edge of the large steel table. He hauled her up on the edge and opened her knees, closing the gap between them. His lips teased hers, as his fingers found the hem of her top. He smiled against her mouth when she gasped.

“Cold,” she muttered against his mouth as she shifted from side to side.

He popped her jeans button and slid his hand in until he found her pure heat.

“Hot.” He dragged his mouth up her jaw to her ear.

“Someone could walk in, Jon.”

He chuckled. “Doesn’t that make it all the more exciting?” His hand skimmed up her shirt, until skin replaced cotton. Silk and fire buzzed over his hands as his fingers walked up her abdomen. “That anyone,” he sucked her lobe into his mouth, “could walk in here. Right now.”

She moaned, and his hand was saturated in her juices.

“You are a dirty girl. You know what happens to dirty girls, Callie?”

“Oh god,” she whimpered rolling her lip under her teeth. Nails pierced his shoulders but instead of pulling back he leaned forward, and his fingers slid into her bra.

“They get punished.” He flicked her nipple and as expected, it hardened instantly.
He dipped to her neck. “Oh yeah, they get punished – real good.” He swiped his tongue down the lean column of her neck to her clavicle. He let his fingers flex, surrounded in her dripping heat. He found her breast with his mouth, and sucked through the lighter than air material.

“Oh Jon. Oh god.” She clenched around him, her knees viced his hips as she shook.

Christ, he was going to shoot in his pants at the sight of her. Head tipped back, eyes closed, and lips parted as she groaned her way through the orgasm.

He was hard. Stone fucking hard.

He let her come down, removed his hand, and licked his fingers with a grin.

“You taste like sin.”

Her eyes sparkled and her lips pursed. “I need to taste you, Jonny.” She grabbed his coat and tugged him forward.

But he wasn’t finished with her yet. He stepped back, breaking them apart.

“I’m not done yet.” He winked and turned towards the sleek sliver fridge that crept out along the back wall. He clicked the handle and explored the contents lined on the shelves.

Tomatoes, lettuce, butter...wine. He lifted an eyebrow and yanked the opened bottle out and then grinned as he saw something else.

He lifted the cake and wiggled his eyebrows as he set it down on the counter beside her. He scooped some icing on his index finger and brought it to her lips but she leaned back with a laugh.

“Jon, this could be someone’s birthday cake.”

“Happy birthday then.” He pushed inside her warm mouth and her tongue curled around his finger. Was there really anything hotter? Fuck.

He tugged her top off and unclasped her bra, and before she could protest he swiped the icing across the soft curve, smothering the tight bead of her nipple. He sucked the sweet icing off his thumb and smirked. “Creamy and delicious.”

His mouth hit her breast, using his tongue he swirled around her nipple until all he could taste was butter cream and woman. Her fingers wound through his hair, and her legs clamped around his hips as he continued to suck.

~

Callie rolled her head back and groaned. The buzz of alcohol and pleasure radiated across her body, making her skin tingle. She curled her toes as he tugged at her nipple and her hands buried themselves in his streaks of blonde and sandy brown.

She felt more alive than she had in years--warm and free. He chuckled against her when she held his head between her breasts. God, he could stay there all day if he wanted.

Fine by her.

She captured his wrist when he reached over to the icing, and pulled him up. She shifted forward, squeezing her legs tight around his hips. His eyes shone with anticipation and his lip quirked. God she loved that lip.

She carefully drew the rich butter cream that still buzzed in her mouth, onto her finger. She traced it across his lips, and watched his tongue flick out to taste.

She painted a line down the middle of his throat and grinned. Leaning forward she licked, from bottom up over his Adam’s apple all the way up to his chin.

“I think I like drunk Callie,” he murmured as her lips grazed his.

“Oh, I’m not done yet.” Through slitted eyes, she ground into him, her heat against his. She lifted an icing covered finger and swirled it around his nipple, he jolted forward, palming the bench as he let her roam him.

Then she was over him. Tasting, licking, and sucking every inch of his chest. The loud scrape of metal across floor echoed around them. Her fingers trailed up his arms, shedding any leftover clothing to the floor. She needed to feel his skin on her, his heart against hers.

His eyes fell on hers as he scooped her in for a long lazy kiss. The kind that summers were made of, warm and breezy. He tasted like a creamy dream--one that she didn’t want to end. She fingered his buckle, and thread his belt out slowly before letting it thunk to the ground.

He grabbed the bottle of wine and took a quick swig.

“Nervous are we?” she purred, pressing herself against him. Ahh there it was--skin against skin.

She curled into him, the cocktail of alcohol and lust blurring her thoughts as she let herself go. She drizzled her finger down his chest and over his belly. Her hands dove into his jeans, finding him hot and hard.

“I do love this no underwear policy you have.”

He growled, arching over her. “Callie, c’mon.”

She massaged his length, slowly rolling her thumb across the tip of him.

His hands gripped her thighs. “Teasing gets you nowhere baby.”

She snorted. “You’re just saying that because you’re not the one teasing. Besides,” she rested her lips against his tight little nipple, “I object. I think it gets me everywhere.”

He groaned, her hand was dripping in his pre cum as his hands fisted in her hair.

“More,” he growled.

She smirked and pulled her hand away.

His eyes shimmered with fire. He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Oh, I see. Like that is it?”

He hovered over her, her gaze fell to his lips but they didn’t touch.

“C’mere.” She grabbed his shoulder and pulled him towards her, connecting their lips. She slid his hand down her, so his fingers were teasing the heart of her. He pushed her flat, until cool metal stung her skin and she wriggled the jeans off.

She closed her eyes and relished him filling her, completely. He draped a leg over each shoulder so her toes pointed to the sky. She cupped her breasts, groaning at the sensation of her own touch and him inside her. He hooked his hand around one of her legs, kissing her inner calf as he moved.

She felt like she was in another world, skin slapped against skin and they matched their groans as he rose within her. Sensation sizzled up her spine, her body so wound and tight, she had to let go.

Callie wanted to let go. Her palms slid across the table as she failed to anchor herself anymore. Their eyes met, and he pressed his nose into her leg as he grunted and spilled himself deep.

The hum that left her throat was primal and low, as her eyes fluttered closed and she shook on the table. Stars shattered in front of eyes as she came back to down to earth, her chest tight as she struggled for breath.

She squeezed her feet at each side of his head. “Wow.”

His hands glided down her shins, as he smiled. “You’re beautiful.”

She was? She was sure her hair was now destroyed--stuck to her face and neck with sweat. Her cheeks her burning, and her skin was clammy. That couldn’t be beautiful, it just couldn’t.

Beautifully destroyed was more like it.

He lifted her up into his arms, letting his fingertips run across her back, causing little jolts to buzz through her. She sighed against his shoulder, the delicious weight of afterglow in her eyes.

She heard the pop of fingers being licked.

“Cake?” he asked pressing a kiss to her temple.

She chuckled, and closed her eyes as she settled against him. She didn’t want to leave. At this moment, all she wished for was that time would stand still and tomorrow would never come.