“Confident, were we?” she teases as I’m sliding it on.
“No, just really fucking hopeful,” Still standing, I lift her so our bodies are aligned. I slide into her at an excruciatingly slow pace, letting her adjust to me gradually. She feels even better than the first time. Because this time she’s mine. Her arms and legs are around me and I’m holding her in place, my hands on her ass.
“If you don’t start to move soon, I’m going to scream.” She attempts to arch against me, but I hold her firmly against the door.
“Believe me, baby, you’re going to scream either way.” I steady myself and start to move, going slowly at first. She feels so good, I don’t want to come before she does. But with every stroke, she’s gripping me tighter and I don’t think either of us are going to last much longer.
“Please,” she whimpers against my ear. Her breaths are getting shorter and her moans are getting louder. “Please, Callum, I need it faster.”
I groan into her neck. “Well,” I manage to get out, “since you asked so nicely.” Quickening my pace, I thrust harder into her as she clings to me for dear life. The feel of her body moving with mine is beyond description. I adjust my hips and this new angle makes her cry out as she digs her nails into my shoulders. She comes loudly, her head tossed back against the door, and I follow right after. The force of my orgasm makes me see stars and I’m grateful for the door for keeping us both upright. We slowly come back to earth sweaty and satisfied.
I return her feet to the floor, kissing her forehead. When I’m sure she can stand without me holding her, I slip into the bathroom to remove the condom. I grab two face cloths and run warm water over them, wringing them out in the sink. Rejoining Maggie, I hand her one and we clean ourselves up.
“We didn’t even make it to the bed,” she laughs, nodding at the standard hotel king-size mattress eight feet from where we’re standing.
“It was too far away.” I steal another quick kiss from her. “We’ll use it next time.”
“We’ll use it next time,” she confirms, beaming up at me. I hand her the dress from the floor and her eyes widen. “The wedding. People are probably wondering where I am. My dad, June…”
“So let’s throw our clothes back on and go.” I bend down and scoop up my discarded shirt and pants in one quick motion. “I mean, only if you want me to come with you.”
“Of course I do, but I ruined your shirt.”
“I’ve got a room two floors up with a change of clothes.”
“You do?”
“Absolutely. Just in case you told me to go to hell and I needed privacy to drink the mini bar dry and have a good cry.”
I leave her to freshen up, bolting back to the elevator as fast as my feet can take me. Once I’m in my suite, I change my shirt at a break-neck speed, making it back to her hotel room in under five minutes.
When she opens the door, my breath catches. She’s fixed her hair and reapplied some make up, but it’s not her appearance that takes my breath away. It’s the way she looks at me. Her happiness at seeing me hits me like a cannonball to my chest and I fall in love with her all over again.
“I believe you owe me a dance, Lois.”
“I’m all yours, Clark.”
Chapter 38
Maggie
“What if no one shows up?”
“People will show up,” Callum assures me without looking up from the box he’s unpacking. Even though I’ve had weeks to prepare for today, it’s still come faster than I expected.
My first craft fair.
I got the email from SoWa Open Market that a spot opened up the day after the wedding. We’d slept in after dancing the night away with my family. Well, we danced the first half of the night away. We spent the rest of the night fulfilling our promise to make good use of the king-size bed.
As elated as I was about securing a table, panic set in fast. Did I have enough product? Was I really ready to put myself out there?
Callum held my hand through the entire process. He’s been an absolute rock these past few weeks, showing up for me like no one ever has. He helped me with everything from soap production to building my website. Not to mention keeping me running with a steady supply of praise and baked goods. The last few weeks have taught me two things: That I can count on this man to be there for me when I need him, and that I will never tire of cinnamon rolls. Never.
“What if no one buys anything?” We’ve lugged boxes and boxes of soaps and lotions across town and I really don’t want to have to take it all home with me.
“People will buy it,” he assures me, planting a kiss on my forehead. I run my hands along his light cotton shirt, feeling his toned stomach tighten at my touch. The man looks so good in jeans and a t-shirt. If I slapped a price tag on him, there would be a bidding war. “It’s a quality product, sold for too little money by an extremely attractive business owner. You have nothing to worry about.”
We arrived at seven o’clock in the morning to set up. I’ve gone to so many craft fairs as a customer, but being here as a seller is a completely different vibe. There are vendors everywhere trying to get set up before the doors open to the public. I’m sandwiched between a gourmet cookie shop and a woman selling upcycled wind chimes. Her creations jingle gently, providing background music for us as we arrange the soaps on the multiple display tables. I can tell that Callum is trying to follow my example as he keeps glancing over at my stacks of soap and then tries to recreate them.
