Single Dad Burning Up Read online

  “Callan,” Gemma says in a soft voice. I lift my head, and our eyes latch. As if she knows every dark thought inside me, she presses a light kiss to my mouth. “Let’s get out of our heads, okay? Just me and you. No one else but the two of us, right here, right now. What we’re doing is right. It’s right, Callan.”

  “I know,” I say, not questioning it either. I feel this every bit as much as she does. “I need you, Gemma,” I say. I rip my shirt off and pull her to me. I slide my hands up her back, and grip her shoulders, needing the skin-on-skin contact. “I need you so bad.”

  “You’ve got me,” she whispers into my ear. “Just like I’ve got you.”

  I inch back and kiss her, deeply, passionately, opening up a part of me that had been closed off for two full years. It’s frightening, but it’s also so fucking nice. The tension in my shoulders lessen, and I revel in the sensations racing through me as she runs her hands down my back, offering herself to me. The fact that this woman is opening up to me after her past experiences isn’t something I take lightly, and I plan to do right by her.

  My mouth leaves hers, tracks down her body until I’m sitting on the bed, and she’s quivering on her legs before me. I rip open the button on her shorts, and peel them down her legs.

  “Gemma.”

  “Yes,” she says as I tug my phone from my pocket.

  “Are you calling someone,” she asks, and starts to wrap her hands around her body.

  “No.” I set my phone on the bed. “Do you feel beautiful?”

  “I…” She glances into my eyes. “Yes.”

  I smile and nod at that. “When was the last time you danced?”

  She shakes her head and looks down. “It’s been a long time, Callan.”

  That breaks my fucking heart. “Did dancing make you feel good…free?”

  “Yeah, I miss it, actually.”

  “Would you dance for me?” I ask, and her head jerks back.

  Her breath comes a little fast. “You were serious about that?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t know, Callan.” She looks down at her feet. “I’ll feel silly.”

  “I’ll start with you.” I flip through my apps and put on a song, an old one from our high school days and she laughs.

  “Why is that on your phone?” she asks, her body relaxing.

  “The women at the station got hold of my phone one day,” I say.

  “Liar. You just like the oldies.”

  “I admit to nothing.” I set my phone down and take her into my arms. “But you should see the pic they added to my wallpaper.” I roll my eyes and laugh. “They had fun that day, and taught me a valuable lesson. Keep my phone locked.”

  She chuckles and puts her head on my chest as we move to the slow song. “I think I like these women already.”

  “They’re going to love you,” I say, and my throat tightens as I hold her against me. They are going to love her. Heck what’s not to love.

  Whoa, easy, Callan. This is all just pretend.

  My cock thickens as I hold her to me, her body swaying and stroking me in places so deep, it’s almost frightening. I honestly can’t remember the last time I was this happy. Gemma helps me forget about the real world for a while, but it’s there for me to go back to once this weekend is over. I must say, though, after a taste of this, it’s going to be fucking hard going to bed alone, waking up alone. Again.

  As she relaxes in my arms, I step back and sink back onto the mattress. She bites her bottom lip, and stills.

  “Dance for me, Gemma,” I murmur.

  Dressed in nothing but black lace panties, she begins to sway her hips, her beautiful breasts jutting out, her nipples so pink and puckered, my mouth waters. Jesus, I like her. She is the most beautiful woman on the planet. But she’s more than just beauty. So much more.

  She grips the thin elastic band with her thumbs and tugs. All thoughts dissipate as my blood rushes south. “Hmm,” I say.

  “You like that, Callan?”

  “Uh huh,” is all I can manage to push past my lips.

  She turns around, and presents me with her lush ass. As she shakes it, I remove the rest of my clothes, until I’m stark naked. I take my cock into my hand, and her eyes go wide when she turns back to face me.

  “You like this?” I ask as I tug from base to tip.

  “I do,” she says, her gaze latched on my cock.

  I want my hand in those panties, but I need to see her naked. “Get rid of the panties. I want to see your pussy,” I say.

  She bends forward, and a growl rips from my throat as she sheds the last of her clothes. Moving slowly, she stands back up again and continues to sway.

  “Open yourself up. I want to see all of you.”

  She reaches between her legs, and using her fingers, she spreads her damp lips. I almost weep. “Fuck, Gemma,” I gulp.

  “You like?”

  “Yeah, I like.”

  She rubs her clit, and moans as she slides a finger into herself.

  “I have a confession,” she whispers.

  “Tell me.”

  “Many years ago, I used to touch myself, imagining it was you.”

  Jesus Christ, I can’t believe she’s admitting that to me. “You did?” I ask, excited by that.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, you don’t have to imagine it anymore.” I stand, slide one arm around her as the other goes between her legs. I move her finger, and replace it with mine. I slide deep inside her, stretching her soaked walls, and lightly rubbing the bundle of nerves that sets her on a path to ecstasy. She’s so damn hot and wet, she nearly orgasms right there. I fucking love it.

  “That’s so good,” she says and sags against me. I hold her upright and fuck her with my fingers slowly.

  “Are you going to come all over my fingers?” I ask.

  “You keep that up and I am.”

  I press the butt of my hand against her clit and massage it. She grips my shoulders and a cry catches in her throat. “I want that too, but I also want you to ride me and come all over my cock. I want to hold your hips and pull you down, feel you squeeze around me. Mostly, I want to see your face when your sweet pussy takes every inch of me inside you.”

  My words do something to her. Her nails dig into me, and her body spasms around my finger. “Fuck, I love watching you come,” I say as she pulses and clenches and comes some more. The second her tremors subside, I lower myself onto the bed and position her on top of me, until her legs are on either side of my body. I lift her and drag her up until her pussy is over my mouth.

  “Sit on my face,” I tell her and she takes her breasts into her hands and lowers herself until her juices soak my mouth. I lap and eat at her, and suck her sensitized clit until she’s moaning in pleasure again. She rides my face shamelessly and I fucking love it. Her hips move, back and forth, as she grinds on my tongue.

  As my cock aches, I slowly lift her and reposition her. Seconds before I’m about to pull her down, plunge high inside, some brain cell reminds me I need a condom. “Fuck, Gemma. Condom. My bag.”

  Face flushed, she pushes her mess of hair from her shoulder. “Actually,” she says, breathless. “I have some in my bag.”

  I grin at that. “You thought ahead.”

  “When you insisted on coming with me,” she teases, “I found some I had and they’re not expired.”

  “Brains and beauty, how the fuck did I get so lucky?”

  She laughs at that, and climbs from my body, and I instantly miss her warmth. “Hurry back,” I say and take my cock into my hand. She bends over to root in her bag, pointing her sweet ass at me and I growl.

  “Jesus, Gemma. You got a thing about shaking that ass at me?”

  “You don’t like?” she asks innocently as she stands with a condom in her hand.

  “You tell me,” I say and gesture to my cock.

  She slowly crawls back on to the bed, and goes between my legs. “Poor guy needs some attention.” She takes me to the b
ack of her throat, and I grab a fistful of her hair as she sucks on me. I pull her off and her grin is coy. Yeah, she knows exactly what she’s doing to me.

  “You’re a tease, Gemma.”

  “Who, me?”

  I laugh. I loved my wife, I loved having sex with her, but I don’t ever remember laughing. I like this. A lot.

  “Put that condom on me already,” I growl.

  “Such an impatient man,” she says.

  “Have you seen yourself?” I say. “Can you blame me for wanting my cock inside you sooner rather than later?”

  She rolls the condom down the length of me, and I reach for her, pull on her until she’s straddling me. “Open your pussy,” I say, and she parts herself with her fingers, a sweet invitation if I ever saw one. “Tell me what you want,” I say as she tries to lower herself, but I keep hold of her hips to prevent her from burying my cock inside her.

  She moans her disapproval as I continue to prevent her from moving. “I want you, Callan. I want this gorgeous cock inside me.”

  I let her hips go and she sinks down, taking every last inch into her hot, tight body. “Fuck.” I groan.

  “Exactly.”

  She twirls her hips, and my balls ache for release as she clenches around me. I take her breasts into my hands and knead gently. She arches into my touch, her eyes half-mast. I sit up, licking her nipple, sucking on it gently and twirling it between my teeth. Her hands go around my head and she holds me to her as her hips continue to move, rotate. I put one hand behind me and power up.

  “Oh,” she says breathlessly as I piston in and out of her, changing the pace and rhythm, wanting her cum all over my cock.

  I fall back to the bed, and grip her hips again, taking pressure off her thighs as she rides me. With each downward thrust, she grinds her clit on my pelvis, and it’s all I can fucking do to hang on, but before I let go, I want her juices all over me.

  Her head goes back, her hair wild around her shoulders, and it rattles my control. I muster every ounce of strength I can possess to hang on, but every movement, the sexy way she writhes against me, torments every bone in my body. My muscles tense, everything in the way she’s taking my cock totally fucking wrecking me. I hit her deep, and she moans.

  “Callan,” she cries out, and when she realizes how loud that was, she glances at me and bites her lips.

  I grin at her as we bang like two hormonal teenagers and pray to fucking God her family can’t hear us. “Take what you need,” I say, my voice much lower than hers. “Ride my cock, Gemma. Take it deep.”

  She lifts, drops down onto me, and I gasp, meeting each thrust until I’m practically buried in her balls-fucking-deep. I briefly close my eyes, but open them again, absolutely blown away by how amazing she feels. I’m so fucking close, I sit up, and pull her mouth to mine. I slide my tongue into her mouth and her body lets go around me. Her body spasms around me and her hot cum sizzles over my cock and drips down my thighs.

  “Gemma,” I say into her mouth as sparks dance before my eyes, my own powerful explosion rocketing through me, leaving me perfectly satisfied, perfectly content.

  Perfectly into this woman.

  10

  Gemma

  The sound of children playing pulls me awake, and I reach across the bed, happy to find Callan beside me. I roll to face him as his chest rises and falls with his easy breathing. My heart squeezes in my too-tight chest and I swallow against a dry throat. He is such a good guy, the best guy I know, and it hurts to think he plans to spend the rest of his life alone.

  He opens one eye, and then the other, and a smile splits his lips when he finds me up on my elbow staring at him. “Hey,” he says his voice sleepy and groggy. “How long have you been awake?”

  “Not long,” I say, and lightly trace his nipple. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

  “Of course you woke me. I could feel you lying there staring at me like some sort of creeper.” I laugh at that and he quivers and grabs my hand to stop my exploration of his nipple. “That tickles,” he says.

  I laugh. “Now you know how I feel.”

  “Oh, are you saying you don’t like it when I do this?” He reaches out to circle my nipple.

  “Not exactly.” I exhale a satisfied sigh, my body warm and so satiated, I’m not sure I ever want to leave the comfort of my bed.

  “How are you feeling?” he asks.

  I stretch out. “Glorious, you?”

  For a brief second, something that looks like pain and guilt flashes in his blue eyes before he blinks it away. “I’m good,” he says, but his voice lacks conviction. I let my mind drift to last night, and all the other times his deep sadness penetrated my skin and wrapped around my heart. He misses his wife, and that’s totally understandable, but every intuition in me tells me there is more going on with him. I give that more thought, and that’s when it hits me. He feels responsible somehow for his wife’s death.

  “Callan?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Can I ask you something?” I fluff my pillow and lay on it sideways. He does the same.

  “Sure.”

  “How come you don’t want to ever have a relationship again? Don’t you think Zoe would want you to be happy?”

  He rolls to his back, rests his arm on his forehead and stares at the ceiling. My entire body tightens. I don’t want to hurt him anymore than he’s already hurting, or for him to think he’s doing his daughter an injustice by avoiding relationships, but I hate to see him spend his life alone—thinking he’s somehow to blame.

  “There are things you just don’t know, Gemma.”

  “I understand that. As your friend, I’m here to talk to if you want. If you don’t want to talk, that’s okay too. I just want you to know I’m here for you. No judgement.”

  He goes quiet for a long time, and the sound of the kids playing in the yard fills the silence inside the room. I lay there, not wanting to move or breathe, and when he finally breaks the quiet, my heart jumps into my throat.

  “I couldn’t save her.”

  I take a few shallow breaths and wait for him to continue. When he doesn’t, I say, “She was in a car accident, Callan. There was nothing you could do.”

  “No, you’re wrong. I’m a first responder. I save people all the time. It’s what I do.” He opens his mouth, but a garbled sound catches in his throat. “It’s what I do, Gemma.”

  The pain of his loss, the weight he carries on his shoulders, mushrooms inside me. Sorrow fills all my dark corners, and I touch him lightly. He flinches slightly, so I take my hand back. “I’m so sorry it happened.”

  He nods as hurt, sorrow, sadness and loss move over his face. He takes my hand and pulls it back, like he needs the connection. “I know.” His head slowly turns my way. “She was pregnant.”

  I suck in a fast breath, my stomach coiling so tight, I think I might throw up. I shift a bit closer to offer my warmth, sensing he’s opening up to me and telling me something he’s never told another. There is so much going on inside this man, things he keeps from the world, things he buries and hides by using humor. He’d come here with me, running to my rescue, but from the vulnerability and pain in his eyes, it’s easy to tell he’s the one in need of rescuing. “Callan, I didn’t know.”

  “No one did. We were waiting to announce it.” He makes a noise, a humorless laugh, as a pained smile twists his lips. “Zoe had this whole thing planned. We had T-shirts with pizzas on them, two slices missing. Kaitlyn had a T-shirt with one slice. People were supposed to figure out why there were two slices missing.”

  “I get it,” I say. “It’s clever.”

  “Yeah…”

  His voice trails off, and I lay my head on his chest, leaving him to his thoughts. His strong heart beats rapidly beneath my cheek and he puts his arms around me, absorbing my warmth and comfort. We stay like that for a long time, and soon enough we hear cars pulling into the driveway as friends and family gather for the day’s adventures. I don’t move and neither does he.
If he needs me to stay here with him for the rest of the day, the weekend, then so be it. There is nowhere else I’d rather be.

  Deep sadness moves over his face. “I like being with you, Gemma.”

  “But you don’t think you deserve it,” I say, voicing his thoughts when he can’t. He doesn’t answer, so I simply wrap my arms around him and hold him tighter. Callan is one of the nicest yet toughest guys I know, but deep inside he’s raw, stripped bare. He’s shouldering a lot of responsibility and guilt. It’s no wonder he can’t move forward when he can’t come to terms with the past.

  “I can’t give you more than this,” he says.

  “I know, I’m not asking. I have a lot of healing to do myself. But Callan, eventually I hope you can move on. I’d love to see you have a family again. If anyone is a family man, it’s you.”

  “I loved having a family. I just can’t do that anymore. A wife, and more kids…what if I couldn’t…I’m just. It doesn’t feel right.” He goes quiet again for a long time. “I promised to keep them safe,” he mumbles.

  “It wasn’t your fault, Callan,” I say gently. “You deserve happiness. Zoe would want that. I know she would.”

  “She was on her way to the doctor for a checkup. I was supposed to go, but got tied up with some paperwork. She told me it was okay, she was easy and independent like that…but if I would have been with her, then maybe…”

  “Then maybe Kaitlyn wouldn’t have a mother or a father.” I go quiet for a moment to see if he’s going to allow me to continue, because yeah, I’m overstepping here, but this guy needs to talk, and right now I want nothing more than to be the friend he needs. When he remains silent, I restart with, “I know it doesn’t feel that way, and I know my words aren’t going to matter or change your mind, but you need to know the only one who blames you is you. Zoe was in a terrible accident. No one could have done anything. The police, the doctors, the firefighters…her husband.”