At Peace
Page 56

 Kristen Ashley

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“Vi, I’m drivin’ in LA. I don’t have a cell glued to my ear, they might arrest me.”
I didn’t think. If I did I would have quashed it. So, not thinking, the giggle slid right out of me.
Joe Callahan, rugged, tough guy, alpha male cracked a joke.
And it was a funny one.
When I stopped giggling, I told him, “I wouldn’t want you to get arrested.”
“Me either, been there, it sucks.”
This surprised me.
“You’ve been arrested?”
“Hard knock life, buddy, you saw my ex-wife crawlin’ drunk and whacked out of her mind on the floor.”
I blinked at the ceiling.
First he cracks a joke then he’s sharing. Before that, before he left to be away from me for two weeks, he made love to me, slow and sweet.
What did I do with this?
“I grew up, she didn’t,” he went on sharing.
“So you were arrested when you were a kid?”
“Juvie was my second home.”
“Wow.”
“Wasn’t home sweet home, buddy. Like I said, it sucked.”
“I’m sorry,” I said softly.
“I’m not, taught me a lesson, that’s life, you learn or you die.”
God, now he was being a sage and he was good at that too.
“Keira get her dog?” Joe asked.
“Next week,” I told him. “They aren’t totally weaned yet but we gave them the money and she picked the one she wanted. She’s over the moon, she can’t wait. She so can’t wait, we also have a dog food bowl, a dog water bowl, a dog bed in Keira’s room and four, enormous bags of puppy chow in the garage.”
“Sounds set.”
“That dog is so set, it isn’t funny. The thing is tiny. It’ll take him a year to get through that puppy chow. I just hope he doesn’t eat any of my shoes. Feb’s puppy eats all her shoes.”
I heard his soft laughter, something else I’d never heard from him and something else I liked, before he said, “Hang on a second, gotta give the keys to the valet.”
“Valet?”
“Yeah, at the hotel.”
“Oh.”
The thought of Joe at a hotel with a valet surprised me. He seemed more like a motel on a deserted highway type of guy, somewhere to crash where your car was outside your front door, ready for a quick getaway.
I waited, listening to what were sounds of Joe giving his keys to a valet then Joe said, “Back.”
I liked him being back, I also liked that he wanted to keep me on the line so when I said, “Hi,” I said it softly.
“Jesus,” he muttered.
“What?”
“We’ll get to what when I get to my room,” he told me mysteriously then continued. “Speakin’ of your garage, you need to start parkin’ your Mustang in there.”
“What?”
“Your ‘Stang, buddy, sweet ride. You should take care of it. You need to park it out of the elements.”
“I can’t.”
“Your garage is full, you should clear it.”
“No, I mean, the door won’t open, it’s jammed shut. Something wrong with the garage door opener.”
He said nothing for a second then he said, “I’ll look at it when I get home.”
I felt my breath leave me and I stared at the ceiling.
He bought my daughter a dog.
He made love to me.
I’d heard him laugh and crack a joke.
He was going to look at my garage door and he listened and advised when I talked about the girls.
And he wanted me on the line.
And, again, he bought my daughter a dog. And he did it because she lost her Dad.
“Violet?”
“What?” I whispered.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” I lied but I wasn’t. I wanted to believe in him, I really did and he was giving me a lot to believe in.
“Where are you?”
“Home.”
“Yeah, baby, but where are you?”
“In my bedroom.”
“Where?”
“Where in my bedroom?”
“Yeah.”
“On my bed.”
“The door closed?”
“Um…” I looked at the door I’d closed to mute the explosions from the movie the kids were watching then I replied, somewhat confused, “Yeah.”
“You wearin’ jeans or one of your sweet skirts?”
Oh Lord, I wasn’t confused anymore.
“Joe –”
“Baby, answer me.”
“A skirt,” I whispered.
“Pull it up.”
“Joe –”
“Vi, pull it up.”
“Are you in your room?”
“Yeah.”
“Joe, I’ve never –”
His voice was sexy low when he said, “I’ll talk you through it, baby, now I want you to pull your skirt up for me.”
I bit my lip and tucked the phone in the crook of my shoulder then I shimmied my skirt up.
“Okay,” I whispered.
“It up?”
“Yes.”
“At your hips?”
“Yeah, Joe.”
“All right, buddy, slide your hand in your panties.”
Oh God, I was going to come and I hadn’t even touched myself.
“Violet?” he called.
I slid my hand in my panties.
“Joe,” I whispered when my finger hit my cl*t and the feel of it slid through me.
“Christ,” he muttered, his voice gruff.
“Are you –?”
“No, wanna listen to you.”
“You want me to do it alone?”
“I’m here, baby.”
I rolled my finger, my neck arched and a mew came out of my throat.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Think of my mouth there.”
I kept rolling my finger, thinking of his mouth there and moaned, “Joe.”
“Jesus, buddy, you already sound close.”
I was. This was hot. I’d never done anything like this.
And anyway, thinking of his mouth there, hearing his voice on the phone, it worked.
“I like your voice,” I whispered then my h*ps bucked and I moaned again before I breathed, “I wish you were here.”
“Not as much as me, sounds so good, baby, this I’d like to see.”
I didn’t reply, just pressed and rolled my finger and ground my h*ps into it.
“Next time you’re in my bed, you do this for me,” he told me.
“I don’t think –”