Sugar on Top (25 page)

He swore roughly and captured her mouth with his. There was no sweet or warm; it was inferno from the word
go
.

A quick twist of the wrist and they were stumbling into her apartment. The kisses got deeper and hotter, and Glory’s hands somehow found their way into the front of his pants, which seemed fine with Cal since he was back to swearing again. Then he was moaning and his eyes rolled all the way back in his head.

“Jesus, Glory,” he moaned, stepping back out of her reach. “Not yet.” He kicked the door shut and straightened, his eyes hungry as he undid the rest of his buttons. “Off. Now.” He scanned her body. “All of it but the panties.”

Glory wasn’t big on taking orders, but she was big on Cal, so she reached behind her, grabbed the little zipper, and gave a slow, long tug all the way down to her lower back.

“I thought about getting you a boutonniere, but I figured this was more your style.” A single roll of the shoulder had her dress sliding to the floor in one swoop. “It matches.” She fingered the petal of her corsage.

Glory watched breathlessly as his gaze slid ever-so-slowly from her bra to her stomach. By the time he reached her red cheeky panties, she was trembling with need.

“Don’t move.” He shucked his shoes, tore his shirt off over his head, and went for his pants. She reached out to help. “I mean it, Glory.” He pinned her with an authoritarian stare that had her shivering in the best way possible. “Not one inch.”

Not a problem, since Glory couldn’t remember how to breathe let alone move with him looking at her like she was his cold beverage and he was going to drink her down. Who knew taking orders from Cal would be a total turn-on? Then again, everything about Cal was a total turn-on.

Completely and magnificently naked, he stepped closer, running his hands down her back, molding her new undies to her butt and pressing so far into her space she could feel him hard against her stomach.

He smelled good, felt even better when he leaned down and placed a devastating kiss on her mouth. But Glory didn’t move.

Cal’s eyes opened and he tried it again but she held strong. Not amused, he pulled back. “What are you doing?”

“You said not to move.” She smiled. “Not even an inch, you specified.”

“You decide to listen to me now? When you’re wearing this.” He tugged the leg band of her panties and let them go with a gentle snap.

“You seemed pretty serious,” she confessed.

“Oh, I was serious all right.” He scooped her up in his arms and placed a kiss on the lace edge of her bra before walking her down the hallway. “And you’re about to see just how serious I can get.”

“Does that mean I can move now?” She lay limp in his arms.

With a challenging arch of the brow, he tossed her on the bed. And then a six-pack of condoms. “Try not to.”

And before Glory could come back with some smart-ass remark, her butt met the edge of the mattress, her panties the floor, and Cal’s mouth met swollen, sensitive skin.

She jerked, just a fraction of an inch, but he noticed and she felt him smile against her. “Was that you moving?”

“Nope.”

He lifted his head and grinned, so she closed her eyes. “You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Because it felt like…” He trailed off as his tongue trailed right up her center, lingering until she had to grit her teeth not to move. “There. Did you feel that?”

Oh, she felt it all right, racing through her body and short-circuiting her brain. And no matter how stubborn she was, she was no match for Cal and his masterful mouth.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “Try it again and let’s see.”

Cal, never one to turn down a challenge, gave a smile that had her body quivering—on the inside, since there was no way she’d lose this battle—and got down to business.

And,
Lord have mercy
, Glory understood firsthand why Cal was such a successful businessman. His mission statement must be
Try, try, and try again
, she thought, because he teased and kissed her as though he couldn’t get enough, as though he was content to spend the rest of the night right there, in the Holy Land, driving her over the edge, again and again, until he got the job done.

Being kissed by Cal was a religious experience, one that had her panting and weeping and, yes, moving—in every direction all at the same time. It also had her begging him for release.

Which he did, immediately, putting his fingers into action, masterfully working her until she couldn’t stand it. She couldn’t hold back. Her orgasm took her by surprise, everything inside her coiling higher and higher, and then suddenly shattering.

Crying out, she arched up and then slowly melted back to the mattress, her body reduced to a big limp puddle of
Oh my
.

She was pretty sure she had her legs vised around Cal’s head, most likely suffocating the poor man. But he had ordered her not to move, so she held her position, allowing wave after wave of pleasure to pour over her.

A long moment later, Glory was still struggling to open her eyes when Cal
tisked
. “I’m pretty sure you moved.”

“You have no proof,” she mumbled, still half-conscious. “It’s my word against your—oh God,” was all she could get out as Cal gripped her hips and drove into her in one long, fluid stroke, filling her entirely, only to pull back completely.

She whimpered.

“I’m flattered, really I am. But you can just call me Cal,” he whispered and then drove back into her. “And, Boots, there was so much movement they felt it in Atlanta. Now you want to change your earlier statement?”

No, she did not, and she was about to tell him when she opened her eyes and something shifted between them. She felt it resonate in the way he looked at her, as though really looking at who she was deep down inside. Being at the center of his focus was like being lost and found all at the same time. She didn’t know how else to explain it, other than a feeling of being treasured.

His.

Her heart skipped a beat. She felt like his. And she wanted desperately for him to be hers.

Suddenly, all she cared about was seeing this moment through, seeing where it led. Seeing if what he had in his eyes was what he also felt in his heart. Because it’s what Glory felt.

“Move me, Cal,” she whispered.

With an intensity that shook her to her core, Cal pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek, her jaw, the corners of her mouth. His palm moved over her breasts, up her throat, to gently cup her face. And he kissed her again, on the lips, languid and unrushed, as his other hand slipped lower, gripping her bottom and pulling her to him, until she felt so full, so complete.

Connected.

“Move me,” she repeated.

And move her he did. She lost herself in every slow stroke, and even slower kisses, which moved her farther and farther away from the soul-deep loneliness that had become her life until it melted completely and all she could feel was him and their connection.

And love. She was pretty sure she felt love, too.

“Cal,” she whispered, afraid she was going to cry.

“I’ve got you,” he said and pulled her tighter, pulled her until she had no choice but to give in to him. She buried her face in the curve of his neck and they moved together, climbing toward something that was going to change everything.

Then he whispered her name, not Boots, not Glory, but Glo, the name her grandmother called her, and that combined with the weight of his body took her to a place that was impossible to hold back. Her body exploded and his name tore from her lips. Cal gave a final thrust and joined her.

Long moments later, he finally rose up on his arms, his body still shaking slightly, and looked down at her and smiled. “I’m pretty sure you moved. But if you give me a minute, we can try it again, just to be sure.”

Glory laughed, which was a whole lot better than crying. “I am pretty sure that I moved. I have sheet burns on my back to prove it.”

“Those would be rug burns, honey.” Glory turned her head and found herself staring at the leg of her nightstand. When she looked back, Cal laughed. “Don’t look at me. You’re the one who wrestled me to the floor with those legs of yours.”

She felt her face heat, as well as her other, happier parts.

“Not that I’m complaining. It was sexy as hell.” He nipped her earlobe and whispered, “But since I am a gentleman, and I know how important it is for a lady to be right, how about I help with that not moving test you seem so set on winning.”

“I think you helped me enough,” she said, smacking his bare butt and shoving him off. He didn’t budge, except to hold up her panties and send a wicked glance at her bedpost.

“What happened to your tie?”

“It’s in the truck. I’m improvising.” He ran the lace edging over her breasts and down her stomach. “What do you say?”

She was about to say, hell yes, only she’d be tying him up when a phone rang from the front room. It was hers. Cal didn’t care; he was too busy tickling her, trying to distract her from answering.

The phone rang again. “It could be Jelly Lou. Sometimes she needs help at night.”

With a defeated huff, he rolled off. She gave him a peck on the lips and stood, grabbing her robe off the end of her bed. He yanked it back, refusing to let go.

“Fine.” She walked naked out to the front room, sure to swish her hips the entire way. She heard him groan, and she smiled until she saw the name flashing on her screen.

“Payton,” she said. The only response were some loud sniffles. “Are you okay?”

Cal appeared in the doorway. Still naked and fully aroused. She put a finger to her lips, then picked up his shirt and threw it at him.

“Payton, are you there?”

Cal picked up on the situation right away, slipping his pants on and holding out his hand for the phone. Glory shook her head.

Cal gestured for the phone again.

“Glory, I messed up,” she whispered in a tone that had Glory slipping into her dress and searching for her keys. “Can you come get me?”

“You bet, just tell me where you are.”

“Only if you promise not to tell my dad.”

Glory looked at Cal, chest puffed out, expresion as calm as the eye of a storm, Daddy-mode in full effect. “I don’t think that’s a possibility, honey. Now tell me where you are.”

“Fine, but you have to make him promise he won’t yell at me.” Glory heard laughter—male laughter—in the background. “He’s so going to yell at me.”

“I promise, he won’t yell at you,” Glory said, sending Cal a stern look. His look was sterner and scarier—and he still had his hand out for the phone. Glory turned her back on him, only to hear the laughter turn to chanting and she could have sworn they were saying, “Chug, chug, chug.”

Oh boy.

“I’ll try, but you have to tell me where you are. Now.”

“At the country club, by the eighteenth hole.” The phone muffled and Payton yelled, “Brand, stop being stupid.” Then she was back. “Hurry.”

G
lory stared at Cal as he hopped out of the car, striding across the lawn like a man on a mission. To say he was on edge would be an understatement. All they knew was that Payton was not at Kendra’s house; she was at the country club with a boy.

With let’s-take-it-all-the-way varsity superstar, and every dad’s nightmare, Brand Riggs.

Cal wore his slacks and button-up from earlier, both of which looked as though they’d been used to tie her to the bed, and enough pissed-off-dad face to turn what could be a growing experience into a dividing line.

The tone in Payton’s voice told Glory that she didn’t need a lecture right then. She needed her dad to tell her that everything would be okay. And in order for that to happen, Cal needed to take it down a few thousands notches.

“I know you’re angry and disappointed,” Glory said, hopping out of the truck, her dress, she noted, equally wrinkled.

He didn’t slow down, just kept walking, tension rolling off him. “
Angry
and
disappointed
aren’t the words I’d use. She played me, plain and simple.”

Glory stepped in front of him, placing a hand on his chest and not speaking until he looked down at her. When he did, she almost wet her pants. “Part of growing up is making mistakes, and Payton made a huge one tonight and I know it will be hard, but try to give her a chance to explain before you go nuclear,” Glory said in her calmest voice, which had the opposite effect on Cal.

Or maybe it was the red and blue flashing lights that cut through the night sky, alerting them that this was more than two kids kissing behind the eighteenth hole.

She hoped to God they’d just been kissing.

“Oh, she’ll get to explain, all right.” Cal’s tone held very little promise of an actual dialogue happening anytime soon. “She’ll have a whole year of being locked in her room to tell me what the fuck she was thinking.”

He moved. She did, too—blocking him again.

“And then the next time, she might not call at all,” Glory reminded him gently, her heart aching for him. Cal had done the right thing, which she knew was hard for him, and it hadn’t worked out, and she wanted to tell him that she understood his anger, his frustration, wanted to ask Payton why she’d abused his trust like that, too. But going in there locked and loaded wouldn’t get him anywhere—except a fast track to weekend visitation.

“I’ll try,” he grumbled and then shooed her with his hand.

Cutting around her, he strode right past Deputy Gunther, through the entire Miss Peach court complete with tiaras, sashes, and escorts—who parted like the red sea—shoulder checking Brand Riggs hard enough that the kid stumbled backward, and past Jackson.

“Good, you’re here.” Jackson took off his hat and even Glory felt sorry for him. He looked more stressed than Cal—and that was not a good sign. Neither were the plastic cups and empty bottles littering the course. “We need to talk.”

“It’ll have to wait,” Cal said, not stopping until he was toe to toe with Payton.

She was shivering, her dress was a disaster, and it was obvious by the streaked makeup she’d been crying. She also looked pathetically young and so, so lost. And just when Glory thought Cal was going to snap, he slipped his jacket off and wrapped it around his daughter, pulling her in for hug that made Glory choke up.

He hadn’t been angry, he’d been terrified, Glory realized, watching as he held Payton tighter and tighter, rocking her back and forth as though she were still seven. And Payton allowed him to, burrowing even closer into the safety of her dad’s arms in a way that was so raw, so real, it drew Glory in. The moment was private, unconditional, and without waiver, and it made watching difficult.

He kissed the top of her head and then pulled back, his eyes studying every inch of her, and when he seemed satisfied that she was okay, said, “Want to explain to me why you’re here and not at Kendra’s? We had a deal.”

“I know,” Payton whispered.

“Then what happened?” Cal scanned the crowd. “And where is Mason?”

Payton looked at the grass and shrugged.

“That’s it?” Cal voice was a little too controlled. “I trusted that prick to drive you to Kendra’s. You called me—
from Kendra’s
—to tell me you were safe. Then an hour later you call Glory, asking her to come and get you and I show up to what looks like a party. And all I get is a shrug?”

“I called Glory because I knew that I’d messed up and that you’d flip out,” Payton said, sending Glory a betrayed look.

Glory, feeling every bit the busted teen, shrugged herself.

“Well,
I’m
here and you haven’t even seen the beginning of me flipping out!”

Oh boy.
There went any hope of a nice bonding moment. Cal’s voice was low and furious; Payton’s arms crossed with enough rebellious teen to have Glory rolling her eyes.

“Fine, you don’t want to tell me what happened?” Cal turned to the group of teens a few feet away. Glory couldn’t see his face, but it must have been terrifying because the whole group took a collective step back. “Mason Simms, either show yourself now or I swear to God I will hunt you down myself. Your choice, but I’d suggest you take option one.”

“Ohmigod,” Payton hissed, pulling Cal’s arm. “He isn’t here. He drove me to Kendra’s like he promised and then Brand picked me up and brought me here. Okay?”

“No, it’s not okay. You got in the car of a boy I don’t know, who brought you to a party.” He kicked a red plastic cup and it narrowly missed Brand. Glory snagged an empty bottle of Jack Daniels that was within kicking reach, in case the cup had flown wide of its intended target. “Without asking me. Nothing about that is okay.”

“Like you would’ve said yes,” Payton argued, her voice escalating.

When Cal spoke, it went up another bazillion decibels. “Because a fourteen-year-old at a party with seniors where there is drinking is a stupid idea. What the hell were you thinking?”

Silence exploded off both of them, so heavy with anger and disappointment Glory could hardly move.

“I don’t know,” Payton yelled. “That a really cute senior wanted to take me to a party and hang out with me.
Me.
” Payton pressed a palm to her chest, and Glory felt the pressure in her own. Tawny had done such a number on her over the years, and Payton was desperately trying to find her worth. “And I knew you’d take one look at him and say no. It wouldn’t matter what I thought or how I felt; you would just tell me how it was going to be.”

“So you decided to break every rule in one night to prove me wrong?”

Wrong thing to say
, Glory thought. And Payton must have agreed because she dug her hands into her hips and gave Cal a look that singed his soul.

“That is so you! I have worked hard, all summer, to do the right thing and you never noticed. Not once. I was always home by curfew, missed out on parties that my whole team went to because you said no, that’s it, just no with no other reason except you said so. I picked the right dress—”

“There was another dress?”

“Yes, and it was awesome. Just ask Mom.” Glory didn’t think the teen was helping herself any, but stayed quiet. It wasn’t her place to step in. This was between father and daughter, Glory reminded herself, and she didn’t have a lot of experience in that department. “But Glory told me that the blue one would match my eyes even though I knew she was just trying to get me to buy the longer dress because even she knew you’d freak.”

Cal’s eyes slid to Glory. They were tired and lost, and for a brief second she saw something soften there, something that reached out to her and begged her to have his back. So she took a step closer, showing him that he had this. But if not, she was there for him. He just had to say the word.

“I even picked the right escort so you’d feel comfortable saying yes,” Payton said. “Just like Glory said.”

Oh boy.
Cal’s gaze slid to Glory’s once more, and she’d bet it was the same look he’d just given the teens because she took a step back. “You told her to pick a guy that I would say yes to?”

“Yes,” Glory swallowed. “But I meant that she should date sweet guys, ones you’d approve of. Not use a sweet one as a cover.”

Another torturous silence stretched out, only this time she was in the hot seat. “Wait? You helped her pick her dress? How long did you know she was going to enter?”

“I told her that if you didn’t sign the application, she couldn’t enter.”

“How long, Glory?” He’d never called her anything but Boots and other nicknames, and hearing her given name from him for the first time wasn’t exactly how she’d dreamed it would sound.

“The day we were appointed co-commissioners.”

He gave a dismissive nod, one that her father had given her before. It was cold and devoid of any emotion and final in its delivery. It was his way of telling her she didn’t matter anymore—at least not in this moment.

“Cal,” Jackson said, and his tone set off every alarm in Glory’s body. “I hate to interrupt, but there is more going on here than a simple trespassing violation.” He turned a sympathetic gaze to Payton. “You want to tell them kiddo, or should I?”

She was back to shrugging.

“Apparently the pre-party started when someone hacked the alarm code to the Falcon’s Nest and they raided the bar,” Jackson began. “The rest of the kids are saying that Payton let them in.”

“What?” Cal exploded. “You broke into someone’s place of business and stole alcohol? Do you have any idea how much trouble you are in?”

“I didn’t know that they were going to do that,” Payton cried. “Someone said they heard the ballroom was haunted and it would be cool to get in and see.”
Someone
was undoubtedly Brand Riggs. “So I told them I knew the code, but I swear that I thought we were just going to walk around.”

And kiss. Payton thought some really cute and cool boy was going to take her inside and give her her very first kiss. She probably thought it was going to be wonderful and romantic and change her life. Glory could only imagine how heartbroken she’d been to discover Brand had used her.

“So when they went to the bar, I called Glory.”

“That was good, Payton, calling for help when it got out of hand,” Glory said, cringing when Cal sent her a betrayed look

“Where did you get the code from?” he asked.

It was only the second time during this entire conversation that Payton looked Glory’s way—and she knew the second she saw the girl’s guilty eyes that this was not going to end well. For either of them.

“I saw Miss Glory punch it in the other day when she was locking up after a Miss Peach rehearsal. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it this time,” Cal said. “You broke so many laws, I don’t even know…that’s it. I don’t even know. What to say. What to do. I just don’t know anything anymore.”

He sounded as lost as Payton, who started crying. Cal didn’t move to console her. Not an inch.

Glory wasn’t her mom, and she doubted she was even her dad’s girlfriend at this point, but she couldn’t stand there and watch Payton cry. She moved a little closer and wrapped an arm around her slim shoulders, and the girl immediately crumbled into Glory’s side.

“Hang on, don’t go all end of the world,” Jackson said gently. “We can work this out. In fact, the owners are willing to drop all the charges as long as the damages are paid for.”

“Can’t do that.” Cal crossed his arms.

“You sure?” Jackson asked.

“Daddy?” Payton whispered.

“I want to fix this, baby, I do. But you made this mess by lying and you need to find a way to make it right. Me bailing you out will only encourage more of this.” He gestured to the party.

What he didn’t see was that this wasn’t about Payton or some party. This was about the last fifteen years. Cal had been cleaning up people’s messes from the day his parents died and left him two brothers to raise. Then his wife walked out, leaving behind a pile of guilt and sorrow—and mistrust. All of which placed a pretty hefty burden on Cal’s shoulders.

“Cal,” Jackson said quietly. “You do realize that I’ll have to take Payton in. She’ll have a record.”

Glory could see him struggle between bailing Payton out or punishing her for lying. In the end, his anger won out. “She should have thought about that before she broke in and helped steal someone’s property.”

“I’ll just call Mom,” Payton said. “She’ll come get me.”

Direct hit. Cal’s face went slack and Glory knew that his entire world had just drifted off course, but rather than changing his mind, he said, “That’s your decision.” He leaned down and kissed Payton’s forehead, “Love you, kiddo,” then walked back to his truck, letting Jackson know he’d meet him at the station.

“Don’t leave without me,” Glory said to Jackson. “If he won’t come back, I’ll go with you to the station so Payton doesn’t have to ride by herself.”

Jackson nodded and Glory took off toward the truck. She found Cal leaning against the cab, arms bracing his weight, head hung.

Glory didn’t know what to do, how to fix this. She understood he felt betrayed by his daughter, but he’d let Payton down, too. She was intruding in a situation that didn’t involve her, yet if she didn’t, a lot more could be lost than a few hundred bucks in alcohol.

“You knew,” was all he said. “You knew what I was going through with Tawny and Payton and you didn’t say a goddamned word.”

“When Payton came to me about Miss Peach, I didn’t really know how against it you were,” she said then cringed. “Okay, I knew you wouldn’t like the idea of her entering, but I didn’t think it was my place to get involved.”

At that, he turned to face her, his gaze so cold it chilled her all the way through. “But you did.”

It was the sad truth and now she was terrified that she’d hurt him. Which was the last thing she’d ever want to do. She had tried so hard to stay detached, to not care, but Cal and his daughter had pulled her in, and she was not only involved, but invested fully. This was it for her. This was her chance to have the kind of family and life she’d dreamed of.

“You took her application, coached her into how to win me over, got
me
to extend the deadline. Shit, Boots.” The way he said her nickname, as though it hurt him deeply, made her throat burn. “You encouraged my own daughter to manipulate me to get her way and then took her side.”