The Bully (Calamity Montana)

AS WE STEPPED inside my house, Cal’s hands came to my shoulders while he kicked the door shut. The sound was as loud as my thundering heartbeat.

A night with Cal was a horrible idea, and for a split second, I’d almost walked away. Why couldn’t I walk away?

From the moment I’d stepped out of his car, my body had been trembling with this insatiable need for more. These days, I always wanted more.

Was it my turn to initiate sex? For the life of me, I couldn’t remember who’d made the move last time. Did it matter? All I knew was that I burned for his touch.

I sagged against his chest as his hands skimmed up and down my arms, his fingertips leaving tingles in their wake. He pulled at the neck of my top, exposing my skin. Then his lips were there, barely a whisper as they traced the line of my jaw. “Fuck, I want you, Nell.”

My eyes drifted closed as his breath caressed the shell of my ear. “Then take me.”

On the floor. The couch. Against the wall again. I just wanted him inside me. I needed him to satisfy this ache.

The heat from his chest vanished as he stepped away.

I stood frozen, my heart in my throat, waiting for what he’d do next. Strip off my shirt. Loosen the waistband on my pants. Take down my hair. Cal was a master of anticipation.

His hand slipped into mine and as he tugged me forward, I opened my eyes and followed as he walked us to the stairs.

“Wait,” I whispered.

He ignored me and took the first step.

No. I didn’t want him in my bedroom. Any other room, but that one.

Cal had already ruined one of my bedrooms. Once he fucked me on my bed, I’d see him there. Always. I’d picture him naked between my sheets. I’d search for the scent of his cologne on my pillows.

But as he climbed the staircase, any other objection lodged in my throat.

I didn’t want Cal in my bed, but I didn’t want him to leave. The truth would lead to questions and the answers would only chase him away. So I let him tow me upstairs, and when we stepped through the threshold of my bedroom, I realized I should have pushed harder for a romp on the couch.

Cal looked like a dream in the muted light as he stood next to my bed. Handsome. Sexy. His laugh from dinner echoed in my ears.

That laughter had been magical. Unique. Tonight, he’d laughed his real laugh. A sound that came from deep in his chest because it was honest. And he’d given it to me.

“Turn around,” he ordered.

I obeyed, facing him with my back to the bed.

Cal’s hazel eyes darkened as he stepped away, his eyes never leaving mine as he started unbuttoning his shirt. One painful button at a time, it seemed to take hours. As each was loosened, I was granted a glimpse of his skin, until finally, he yanked the hem from his jeans and stripped it from his muscled shoulders.

My mouth went dry, taking in his abs and arms. The pulse in my core bloomed as I stared at the strength of his chest.

“Take your clothes off.”

Again, I obeyed. Outside the bedroom, I fought him tooth and nail for control. But the rules were different when our clothes began hitting the floor.

My heels landed with a thud on the carpet as I unbuckled the straps at my ankles and kicked them aside. The cool air raised bumps on my skin as my shirt plopped to the floor. When I unzipped my slacks, they slid from my legs as I shimmied them down my hips until the sleek material puddled at my feet.

Cal stood unmoving, towering over me as his eyes feasted on every inch of my flesh. His breath shortened as I freed my breasts from the black lace bra. His mouth parted when I hooked my thumbs in the band of my panties and eased them down my thighs.

“Christ.” His Adam’s apple bobbed before he jerked his chin to the mattress. “On your back.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Say please, Cal.”

“You want me to say please?” He crossed the space between us in a flash. “Then I won’t be saying it alone. You want me to make you beg, sugar?”

Oh, God, yes. “Say. Please.”

He leaned in, his lips touching mine as he growled, “Please.”

I reveled in my victory.

“Now get on the bed. Legs spread wide.”

I sat on the edge of the bed, slowly inching deeper onto the mattress until I could lie down. The touch from the quilt seemed to increase the buzz beneath my skin.

Cal’s hand came to one ankle, placing it wide. Then he did the same with the other until I was bared to him, vulnerable and dripping wet. “Your pussy is so fucking perfect, Nell.”

A lot of people called me Nell. But it was always different with Cal. It was that shortening of my name that had been my undoing from the start.

The night at his hotel in Charlotte, both of us a little raw, and he’d asked one question.

Why can’t I get you out of my head, Nell?

“Fuck me, Cal.” I’d said the same that night too.

“Patience.” He planted his elbows on the bed, his shoulders spanning the space between my knees, and without any teasing, dove for my clit.

I cried out, arching my back as he sucked and licked. He was a man who knew how to please, and at the moment, I didn’t want foreplay.

I wanted a toe-curling, blinding orgasm. A score.

Cal always scored.

His tongue worked magic through my folds, eating me like I was his last meal. A finger plunged deep, followed by another, stroking the spot inside that made my limbs quake.

My hands threaded through his hair, gripping it tightly as I tilted my hips into his mouth, chasing that glorious release.

“Cal.” My head thrashed. My chest heaved. Then everything tightened as the orgasm broke, wracking my body while my heart soared to the stars.

Our moans filled the bedroom. I’d hear them echo for months, just like I had in Denver. But as my orgasm rolled hard and long, I didn’t care. For this, I’d cope with the memories.

He lapped at my wetness until the aftershocks subsided.

My legs and arms fell limp at my sides, my head spinning. No man on earth had such a wickedly talented tongue.

Cal kissed the inside of my thigh, then stood.

The sound of his zipper unlatching filled the room. Then came the ripping of a condom’s wrapper, followed by the drop of his jeans as they joined the clutter on the floor. The mattress dipped with Cal’s weight before he settled into the cradle of my hips.

His hands came to my face, pushing away the hair that had fallen out of the bobby pins I’d used earlier. “Open your eyes.”

“Say—”

“Please.”

I obeyed.

His face hovered inches from mine, and there was an intensity to his expression. A furrow between his eyebrows.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re beautiful.”

I stilled.

Cal had called me beautiful before. Usually with an undercurrent of irritation, like it pained him to admit I was pretty. Other times he’d said it as we’d been clawing at each other’s naked bodies. Those compliments had been driven by unfiltered lust. But this was different. This was . . .

Intimate.

That word rang so loudly through my mind that I sucked in a short breath.

Cal caught my gasp with a kiss. My taste lingered on his lips. His tongue tangled with mine and any fear vanished, replaced with an all-consuming need to have him inside me. I wrapped a leg around his, molding us together. His arms bracketed beside my head, his fingers diving into my hair and pulling it loose.

“More,” I whimpered.

But he didn’t thrust inside. He tortured me with another kiss and his incredible weight pressing me deeper into the bed.

His kiss was languid and slow. His lips were soft and supple. He teased and toyed like he wanted me to remember this one. Like this was our first kiss.

Maybe it was.

Tonight was different, this path we were walking unfamiliar, but I stayed with him, lost in his arms.

We kissed like lovers. And instead of pushing for more, instead of urging him on, I let him sweep me away. I blocked out the past, the fights and angry words, and kissed the man who’d laughed with me at dinner. Who’d given me the best date I’d had in well . . . a long, long time.

His cock was hard against my core. He rubbed against me and the throb in my lower belly became impossible to ignore. But I held on to him, wanting the kiss to last just another moment. Another second. Just in case it didn’t happen again.

A first kiss.

And a last.

He groaned against my mouth, finally unthreading his fingers from my hair to reach between us. Then he fitted himself at my entrance, finding no resistance, as my body stretched around his length.

“Open your eyes,” he said, his cock pushing deep inside my body, and when I obeyed, his gaze was waiting.

Desire and emotion swirled in his hazel irises.

My heart lurched. Look away, Nellie. Block it out.

This was Cal. Trusting him was as foolish as it was dangerous.

“Keep your eyes open as I fuck you.” He spoke like he could read my mind.

Did I object? No. I wanted to watch. I wanted to see him come undone.

Stroke after stroke, he pushed us higher and higher, until the edge was as close for me as it showed on his face. He barely blinked. Neither did I. We stayed locked together until we came together, our bodies shuddering in a simultaneous rhythm.

Cal collapsed on top of me, our bodies slick with sweat as we regained our breaths. His heart thundered against my own, and before I was ready, he slid free, shoved off the bed and disappeared to the bathroom.

With the condom dealt with, I expected him to get dressed and make a hasty exit.

Instead he returned to my side, yanking back the covers of the bed and forcing me to move. Then he flopped onto the sheets, burying his face in a pillow as he lay on his stomach and sighed. An arm snagged out, wrapping around my waist to haul me closer.

“Are you . . . cuddling?” I liked cuddling. But with Cal? We’d never cuddled.

“Sleeping.” He closed his eyes, pulling me closer. “I’m tired. I’ll leave in a bit.”

There was a hell no on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t work it free. Because I really, really liked cuddling. And it had also been a long, long time. What was the harm in a quick nap? I closed my eyes and relaxed too, snuggling into my pillow as Cal dragged the quilt over our naked bodies.

Fifteen minutes. We’d sleep for fifteen, maybe thirty minutes, then I’d take a shower and he could go to his camper.

Fifteen minutes.

Then I’d put my guard back up.

And kick Cal out of my house.

NIGHT HAD FALLEN when I jerked awake. The heat from Cal’s body had turned my bed into a sauna.

I pushed up on an elbow, the covers falling to reveal my breasts.

Cal was sound asleep beside me.

Lifting a hand, I reached to touch his shoulder and shake him awake, but stopped short. He looked at peace, his face relaxed and his hair mussed. He looked like a man who’d needed to sleep for a decade but had been waiting to find the right place to rest and had finally found it in my bed.

He looked like he belonged here.

That notion had me slipping free of his arm draped across my hips. My bare feet hit the floor, and I tiptoed to the closet, not daring to turn on a light as I felt around for a pair of sweats and a hoodie. Then I clutched them to my naked chest, easing the bedroom door closed and willing it, for once, not to squeak.

It squeaked. Damn.

I held my breath, listening for Cal to stir. But the room stayed silent and there was no rustling on the bed. I hurried to my office, still not bothering with a light as I pulled on my clothes, then snuck downstairs, filling my lungs once I stood in the safety of my kitchen.

Oh, God, what was I doing? In all the years of this strange back-and-forth with Cal, there hadn’t been a single hookup where he’d spent the night. Any time I’d gone to him, I’d made sure to leave the minute my orgasm haze had cleared.

I paced the length of the kitchen, shoving hair out of my face and pulling out the few pins that hadn’t worked themselves free. They clattered as I dropped them on the island.

The clock on the microwave glowed green at three fifty in the morning. Beyond the windows, the porch lights from the neighborhood homes brightened stoops, but otherwise, the street was dark.

Sleep would be impossible with Cal upstairs, so I went to the kettle on the stove, filling it with water and setting it to boil. I took the teapot off before the spout could whistle and filled a mug with my favorite green tea. Then I carried it to the living room couch where I curled into a corner and flipped on the TV.

With the volume at the setting just above mute, I didn’t hear much of the movie playing, but the lights kept me company. The dull murmur helped keep the worries in my head from screaming too loud.

This meant nothing. It had to mean nothing. Cal was just tired. The bed in the Winnebago wasn’t large enough for a man his size. He’d been in Bozeman and maybe he hadn’t slept well wherever he’d been staying.

It means nothing.

I repeated it to myself over and over and over, until the sunrise filtered into the room.

The creak of the lowest stair stole my attention. I looked up to see Cal walk into the living room with his shoes in one hand. He’d pulled on his shirt but hadn’t closed the buttons. The waistband of his jeans was undone and the denim draped down his long legs.

Of course he’d have the gall to look sexy. The bastard.

“I meant to leave.” He yawned. “Didn’t realize how tired I was.”

“It’s fine,” I lied.

He raked a hand through his hair and sat on the opposite end of the couch, leaning forward to pull on his shoes. “You didn’t run me out of your house. And you haven’t tried to run me out of town in a while. What gives?”

I shrugged. My make-Cal’s-life-agony plan had fizzled early on. “I don’t like doing mean things. I don’t like feeling guilty.”

“Because you’re not an asshole.”

“You drew that straw in high school, remember? You’re the asshole. I’m the smart one.”

He chuckled. “True.”

“What about you?” I asked. “You haven’t tried to make my life miserable. Don’t you want me to leave Calamity?”

He stared at the TV, his shoulders falling. “I don’t know what I want, Nell.”

This man was killing me. I had to fight myself to stay on my end of the couch and not hug the jerk.

His phone rang and he shifted to dig it out of his pocket. He took in the screen, then blew out a long breath before answering. “Hi, Mom.”

There was a cheerful voice on the other end of the call, though I couldn’t make out her words.

“No, it’s fine. I was awake.” There was a softness to his voice, a tone I’d only heard him use with Elias. And now his mother. “Yeah, getting ready for a workout. What’s up?”

He frowned as she spoke, shaking his head. “I already told him no.”

Told who? Wade? Was this about the commentator job with ESPN?

“Yeah, I get that it’s important to Dad. But like I told you yesterday, Benton is going to have to find someone else.”

Benton. What was happening at Benton?

“Look, Mom. I’d better let you go. Talk soon, okay? Love you.” He ended the call and glanced over. “They’re having some fundraiser shit at the school. They wanted someone to speak to the donors. I haven’t talked to my father directly in years, but without asking, he pitched my name to the dean. Had Mom tell me. Guess he thought she’d be able to convince me to do it.”

“Oh.” I wouldn’t want to talk to those stuffy alums either, but that was Cal’s crowd. At least, it had been. Apparently, it was still his father’s. “You haven’t talked to your dad in years?”

“No.” He shook his head. “The piece of shit talks about me. Brags to his friends. But he doesn’t contact me, and I sure as hell don’t contact him.”

Wait. Piece of shit? In high school, Cal had told me the problems he had with his dad. But I’d assumed those had passed as he’d gotten older. That they’d eventually bonded over extreme wealth and arrogance.

“This will sound strange,” I said. “But I like you more if you dislike your father.”

He huffed a laugh. “Figured you would.”

“And your mom? Are you close?”

“As close as we can be. I love her. I’ll do whatever I can for her. But she’s chosen him. And until he’s out of the picture, we’ll always have that strain between us.”

I couldn’t imagine not having a loving relationship with both my mother and father. I couldn’t imagine how it would feel to take sides. If I was having a bad day, Dad was my first phone call. If he didn’t answer, I went straight to Mom. And the older I got, the closer we became.

They weren’t just my family, they were my friends too. I genuinely enjoyed every minute we spent together.

What had Cal done on his trips home to Denver? Where did he go for the holidays? Granted, during the football season, he’d usually had games. But what about now that he was retired?

“I’m sorry,” I said. “That must be sort of lonely.”

“It’s not as lonely in Calamity.”

Because he had Pierce, Kerrigan and their kids. He was as much a part of their extended family as I was.

And for weeks, I’d been ordering him to leave.

Except where else did he have to go?

That familiar guilt began creeping through my limbs, making me squirm in my seat. There were feelings here, besides the guilt. Besides the lust. And they churned my insides into a tornado.

If I wasn’t careful, he’d destroy me. And I’d vowed a long time ago to never let Cal Stark win.

“I’d better get out of here.” He stood from the couch and walked to the door. “Thanks for the good time. I’ll see you soon.”

“Cal,” I called as he twisted the knob. “Not soon. I, um . . . I need some time. Some distance.”

The guard he’d dropped last night came slamming down over his face. His jaw clenched. “You got it, Blondie.”

I flinched as he slammed the door behind him. It didn’t matter if he was mad. It had to be this way. I’d learned a long time ago not to trust Cal.

That was never going to change.