Keep Me: A HERO Novella (6 page)

“Good.” His eyes graze over me before he looks at his watch. “Lunchtime. Mind if join you?”

“Well, actually—”

“Come on, Cat. Give me this.”

I sigh. “All right. Sure. I’ll just let Mel know.”

I grab my jacket and purse from the back and tell Melinda I’ll be back. Grant waits for me out front, holding the door open.

“The usual?” he asks, and I nod.

We start for the corner market.

“How’s work?” I ask.

“Going well. I got back from my trip last night.”

“That’s right. I forgot. Japan.”

“It was good for me to get away for a while. I had a chance to do some thinking too.”

I look at the ground and wait. He doesn’t say anything though, just pulls open the door to the market when we get there and heads for the deli.

“Two turkey sandwiches, mine with everything, hers with cheddar instead of provolone and no mayo.” He looks down at me when the woman behind the counter turns away from us. “That is, unless anything has changed these last few weeks?”

I smile. “No. Not my eating habits, at least.”

He pays for our food and drinks as I pick a table out on the sidewalk. The day is cool, but the sun is just the right kind of warm. When we’re a few bites in, I ask, “So what is this about?”

“It was lonely in Japan. I mean, I took a few trips this year, but this one was different. I knew you wouldn’t be here waiting for me, and that pretty much ruined my time there.”

“I’m sorry. I know this has been sudden.”

“Sudden, yes. I’ve had some time to think since we last talked though. Being away from you—it’s been hard. I wish you’d give me a shot to try and make things right.”

“Grant—”

“I brought you something.”

“Me?” I ask, touching my chest. “How come?”

He takes his briefcase from the ground and sets it on the table. It opens with two clicks, and he removes a small rectangular package. I push my sandwich aside and unwrap the brown craft paper, glancing up at him as I do.

Three panels make up a painting of a single cherry blossom tree branch. The background is snowy grey, as if it’s the middle of winter, but the pink petals remain vibrant and inviting in their paleness.

“It reminded me of you,” he says.

“It’s beautiful,” I say. “I’m not this delicate, though.”

“Maybe not. You’re right, the cherry blossom is fragile. Its lifespan is short. This is a reminder to appreciate those rare and precious moments.”

My eyes flicker between the gift and his face. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Grant.”

“Perhaps you felt—I don’t know, underappreciated. I never meant for that.” His suit wrinkles when his normally stiff shoulders wilt. “I could be in the wrong profession. Sometimes I forget that just listening is more helpful than problem solving. If I’d known I was losing you, babe, I would’ve tried harder to be there for you.”

“It’s not that,” I say. There’s thickness in my throat and a pang in my heart.

“Give me another chance.”

I look at the table to avoid his sad eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“Why not? I need a reason, Cat. ‘It isn’t working’ just makes things worse. That could mean anything.”

“I met someone.”

“What?”

I make myself face him, but he’s staring at an invisible spot on the table.

“That was quick,” he says. “Unless . . .” He looks up. “While we were together?”

“No.”

“Who is he? What’s he do?”

“He’s . . . a work in progress.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

“But so am I.”

I reach for his hand and squeeze it. “Thank you for the gift.”

I bundle it up while he cleans off our table.

“I’ll walk you back.”

“It’s out of your way,” I say, but we’re already walking.

“Cat,” he says, hedging. “You sure about this? We’re a good match, everyone says so. Work’s going well; I have a home where I want you to be. I was helping you deal with all the shit you’ve been through. I love you. Can this guy give you all that?”

We stop outside the gallery’s oversized windows, and I study the lapels of his suit. It’s true, Grant is the dream boyfriend. Life with him would be easy, and a far cry from life with Calvin. “I don’t know,” I say finally. “But it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters, because there’s no keeping me away from him.”

I’m grateful when he turns away because I can’t stand his expression. He stops though and looks back. He peers past me, into the gallery. “The first time you showed me that photo, I asked why it was important to you. You said you sat there, waiting and wishing.”

“You asked if I ever got what I had wished for.”

“You said no. Why do I get the feeling that’s changed?”

I cock my head. “It has. I didn’t get what I wanted, but I got something better.”

“Bye, Cat.”

He walks back the way we came, and I watch for moments after he’s turned the corner. I worry what it says about me that I’d choose Calvin over Grant, like I’m unable to walk away from the pain that seems inevitable with us. His pain, mine, and ours together.

Later, I’m in the same spot locking up the gallery for the night when Melinda whistles softly. “Wow.”

“What?” I ask, pulling down the iron gate.

“Tall and sexy staring in our direction right now.”

“Who?”

She gestures down the sidewalk, and I spot Calvin leaning against a car.

“That’s Calvin,” I say.

“That’s your new boyfriend?”

“Told you he was hot.”

“Um, hot is hot. He is gorgeous.”

I nod in agreement. He is hard, lean muscle in a forest green sweater and jeans as he relaxes against the hood. His sleeves are pushed up, and his brawny arms are crossed. But perhaps the thing that stands out the most is that he’s wearing his black, thick-framed glasses for the first time since he came back into my life. I sense his tension, even from a distance. Or, maybe, it’s my own tension from seeing him in his old disguise.

Melinda smacks her forehead. “Oh—don’t be mad. I forgot to mention that he called earlier.”

“He did?” I ask and take a deep breath. “Calvin and I have plans right now. I’ll introduce you another time.”

Only his eyes move as I approach him.

“This is a surprise,” I say.

“Want to tell me about your lunch date?”

I stop so our toes almost touch. “Closure, I guess. Grant’s having a hard time with this. I told him about you.”

“Yeah? What’d you tell him?”

I smile. “My superhero wears a green sweater,” I say, plucking the soft fabric in front of my face, “to match his eyes.”

He grunts. “What’s that?”

I follow his nod to my purse, where the painting’s brown packaging sticks out. “You are nothing if not astute,” I say. “A present.”

His jaw flexes familiarly. “He bought that for you?”

“In Japan.” I pull it from the wrapping and hand it to him. He flips it over, looks at it, and hands it back to me. I smile a little and force my arms around him as he’s rigidly still. “I’m glad you’re here. Can we go home now?”

He kisses the top of my head. “Yeah.”

He’s quiet as we walk, but I don’t mind. Since I mentioned the idea of roleplaying a few days earlier, Calvin’s been distant. The time I feel closest to him is the middle of the night when he unknowingly crushes me to him. It should bother me, how tightly he holds me when he sleeps, but I’m afraid it’s the only thing capable of calming me—maybe him too.

When we arrive at the apartment, he pulls out his key but pauses. I look at him, waiting until he leans in and gently kisses my cheek. “Cataline?” he whispers, lingering there. “I love you.”

“Cal?”

He opens the door and holds it for me to pass through. I set down the painting and my purse before removing my shoes. When I look over my shoulder, he’s still in the doorway, watching me with heavily-lidded eyes.

It takes only three giant steps for him to reach me. “Kneel.”

“Calvin—”

“On your knees. Now. Do not make me tell you a third time.”

The shift in demeanor is so easy for him, it sends a shiver down my spine. I lift my chin. My lip twitches. “Or what?”

“Excuse me?”

“What happens if you have to tell me again?”

His expression doesn’t change, but his chest rises and falls a little faster. He seizes my arm and spins me around. I yelp with surprise as he bunches up the hem of my dress, yanks my tights over my ass, and spanks me hard. Before I can protest he hits me again, shocking me into silence.

“Should I get my belt, or are you ready to suck me off?”

My knees fold at the word
belt
. His heavy hand on my shoulder helps me to the ground faster.

“That’s it,” he mutters. His eyes are alive and fixed on me while he undoes his jeans. The waistband of my tights grips my thighs, forcing my legs together. Even in the mansion he never spanked me that way.

“Close your eyes for me.”

I do as he says, and one hand grabs my breast, squeezing, rubbing, pinching, and repeating.

“You’re such a tease, showing off your tits in this tight dress. I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to fuck them. Then come all over your face. Would you like that?”

“Yes, Calvin,” I say.

“Open your mouth.”

His finger slips inside, and I suck instinctively. He adds fingers until my mouth is full, and he’s caressing my tongue, thrusting them to the back of my throat. “Wider,” he instructs. “Wider, Sparrow. Keep those eyes shut.”

Saliva sucks and spits as he fucks my mouth with his fingers, wetness leaking from my eyes because I’m trying not to gag. “That’s my good girl.”

I’ve never been wetter in my life. My body thrills remembering what it’s like to be completely dominated by Calvin. My tights are silky against my palms, and
God
how I need to be felt.

His hand snatches my wrist, and he raises my arm above my head so it’s extended. “Did I give you permission to touch yourself? Tonight is about me, Cataline. If you behave, maybe I’ll let you come. Leave it open.”

His fingers disappear, but he keeps my arm in an iron grip. He grabs his cock and holds it to his stomach, dropping his balls in my mouth. I test them with my tongue, and he moans. I suck, and he growls, so I keep doing that. His shaft rubs along the side of my face. He lifts his balls out and spreads pre-cum over my lips with his crown. “This is
my
mouth.” His free hand grasps my breast through my dress. “Mine.” He tugs up on my arm. “Look at me.”

My eyes immediately obey, snapping up to his. He enters my mouth, collecting saliva with firm thrusts to the back of my throat.

“Christ, that’s beautiful. Maybe I’ll film this and send it to any asshole who’s ever touched you.”

My eyes widen, and I shake my head as best I can with my mouth stuffed. I’m not sure what terrifies me more: the idea of being filmed or that I believe he’d do it.

He chuckles, a sinister and gravelly sound. “Up.” He squeezes my wrist, pulling me to my feet. “Bend over.”

The hairs on the back of my neck rise. “No, Calvin. I haven’t—I don’t want . . .”

“Don’t want what?”

I clear my throat, but it still comes out as a whisper. “Anal?”

He wraps his hand around the back of my neck and folds me at a ninety-degree angle, stopping my face next to his wet dick. His hand remains there for a few moments, reminding me to stay put. He disappears from my sight, and I clench my thighs together. If I tell Calvin to stop, I know he will. I think he will. But my body is alive and writhing. It wants me to give Calvin whatever he needs. He returns after a moment and kneels behind me. His lips attach between my legs and come away with a smacking noise. “This isn’t for you, so don’t come,” he says. “Still the sweetest thing I ever tasted, though.” His tongue glides along the taut waistband of my tights, licking and massaging the aching area.

I can’t help my throaty moan when his teeth pull the skin where my thigh and ass cheek meet. Without a wasted second, his tongue is circling lower, just missing my clit. “Please,” I utter.

“I get so hard when you beg.”

“Please,” I say, but it pitches into a squeal when he sucks my clit into his mouth and bites lightly. He holds me between his teeth and flicks his tongue back and forth, sending agonizing ecstasy throughout my veins. My face is flushing, my mouth open in silent moans as pleasure nears its crest. My body protests when he leaves, screaming for him. He curls his hand into the roots of my hair as his cock drives into me with one confident stroke. Rooted there, he thrusts hard but short, feeling my insides deeper and deeper. He closes over me and pulls my head backwards at the same time. “Don’t come,” he says hotly in my ear. “I mean it. Do not come.”

I grip the backs of my thighs as he straightens up and gives it to me, his hands clutching my hips then sliding up my back, tangling in my hair, clasping over my shoulders, anywhere he can touch so all I feel is the scrape of his rough fingers and the relentless pounding.

“Tonight I own all parts of you,” he rumbles. “You’re nothing more than a little bird, caught in my cage.”

He pulls the elastic of my tights and snaps it against my thigh. Coldness shocks my lower back and drips between my buttocks. He rubs it down and over my asshole until I’m smeared with it.

“I’m only going to ask you this once. If you lie, I’ll know.”

My climax is building, but I try to suppress it, bite it away with sharp teeth in my bottom lip.

There’s pressure on my anus but nothing penetrates. “Did he fuck you here?”

“No,” I say emphatically.

“Why not?”

“I wouldn’t let him.”

“Are you telling the truth?”

“Yes.”

“Did he try?”

“Yes.” I’m so wet, the sound of our fucking is both melodic and filthy. “I’m going to come, Calvin,” I pant.

“Do it. I’m dying to give you the spanking of your life.”

I choke on an unexpected sob. I can’t seem to stop what’s coming. I’m trembling with impending release, alive with frustration. He must feel me clenching, preparing to dissolve into spasms, because he pulls out. “Get on the floor.”

With controlled but shaky movements, I lower myself to the ground so I’m flat on my stomach. He lies down next to me and pulls my back against him. A strong arm wraps around the front of my shoulders. With his other hand, he guides the tip of his cock through the lube and against my asshole. I clutch his forearm just under my throat, digging my fingernails into his skin.