“Have you thought about what you want to do tomorrow? You won the bet.” They were sitting in her living room eating huge bowls of ice cream and listening to classic rock music.
Slowly licking the ice cream from her spoon, Callie shrugged. Dylan couldn’t help but wonder if she had any idea of what she was doing to him. Right then, he needed a cold shower a lot more than he did ice cream.
“Don’t know.” She paused, searching his face for a moment. “Are you sure you have the time?”
Even a deaf person would have heard the uncertainty in her voice.
“I wouldn’t have made the bet if I didn’t want to spend time with you.”
It was true. Even if Phillips hadn’t requested he keep an eye on Callie, he would have wanted to spend time with her. In fact, his agreement with Phillips had been the furthest thing from his mind when he asked her to the game that night.
She shrugged again. “I guess...” Chewing her bottom lip, she paused. “It’s just that... well, it’s not...” Again, her voice trailed off.
Putting down his bowl of ice cream, he moved closer to her. “Not what?”
“There’s not anything between us,” she answered, not looking him directly in the face. “We’re... friends. And I promise to not break your legs if you don’t honor your debt. I know you have a busy schedule.”
Had she already forgotten the kiss they shared the last time he was here? He sure as hell hadn’t. He’d lain awake at night thinking about it. Picturing them doing that and a whole lot more.
Operating on emotion rather than common sense wasn’t something he ever did. Yet it was exactly what was happening when he removed the partially eaten bowl of ice cream from her hands.
“Do you really believe that, Callie?” Without waiting for a response, he tugged her onto his lap. “Is this how friends act?”
He didn’t give her a chance to answer. Instead, he captured her mouth for a kiss she wouldn’t forget anytime soon. Callie’s body stiffened in his embrace, and he thought she might pull away. As he teased her lips apart, however, she relaxed against him. Slowly, she put her arms around his neck, returning his kiss with equal intensity.
He continued his assault on her mouth for several seconds before pulling back and moving his lips to her neck. A small sigh escaped from her as she leaned her head to one side, providing him with better access.
“Still think we’re just friends?” he murmured against her skin. “If so, I’ll keep trying to change your mind till I finally convince you. I’ve got all night.”
“I’m not sure. Maybe that is how you Englishman say hello to your friends. I’ve never been to England.” Callie moved her hands to his shoulders. “I might need more convincing,” she said, her voice all business.
If she wanted to play that game, he was certainly up for the challenge. Without warning, he tore his mouth away from her neck and once again settled his lips on hers. The minute their lips touched again, a wave of desire like he’d never experienced before engulfed him. Merely kissing her was no longer enough. He wanted to feel her skin against his, know every inch of her body.
Sliding his hands under her t-shirt, he ran his hands up her slender back. Her skin was just as smooth as he remembered from the day he’d spread the sunscreen on her. Dylan paused at her bra clasp, silently giving her a chance to stop him. Instead, she entwined her fingers in his hair. Taking that as an okay, he undid the tiny hooks and took her breasts in his hands. They fit his hands perfectly, as if they’d been made just for him to hold.
Soon, just touching her wasn’t enough, though. He needed to see her.
Dylan forced himself to break their kiss and yanked her Red Sox shirt off. It landed with her sensible, no-frills, cotton bra on the floor somewhere. For a minute, he just looked at her.
Perfection. Even better than he’d imagined.
“Not fair,” Callie whispered, tugging at the shoulder of his shirt as he trailed kisses down her neck.
Not having to be told twice, Dylan tugged his shirt over his head, barely stopping what he was doing to her. The feel of Callie’s skin against his was more than he could take.
Bed. He needed to get them to a bed. Without stopping his assault on her lips, he scooped her up off his lap and headed down the short hall. Using his shoulder, he pushed open the bedroom door.
They fell onto her bed together, sending purple and red throw pillows to the floor. Never once letting his lips leave Callie’s, he stripped off their remaining clothes, making sure he tossed his wallet on her nightstand before throwing his jeans on top of her shorts.
Slow. You’ve got all night, his mind screamed, but somehow his body didn’t get the message. Flames licked his body, and Callie’s gentle caresses were only pushing him closer to being engulfed in a full-out inferno.
When he could no longer take the sweet torture of just being next to her naked body but not inside her, he reached for his wallet. Withdrawing the small foil packet inside, he paused for half a heartbeat.
For some untold reason, he regretted having to use the thing. He tore the packet open anyway. Dylan didn’t know if Callie was on any type of birth control, and he didn’t want her telling him he was a father nine months from now.