Page 22 of Fire Island (Fire Island #2)

Twenty-One

EVIE

H eaven is Callum inside me.

He grips my hips in a rough hold and pushes his tip into my swollen entrance. The delicious stretch chokes out my last breath. Inch by exquisite inch, he slides inside me, eyes set on my face as I watch us come together. My mouth waters with the pure bliss only Cal will ever be able to give me.

“Fuck, nighean leanabh,” he growls. “I don’t know how much longer I can give you what you want.”

His control when it comes to this has always been touch and go.

It’s one of the things I love the most about this man. The way even the slightest touch elicits a response. The way he falls apart for me.

Like he was built for me.

And I him.

He pulls out, slow. Teasing. Exactly what I asked for. I tighten around him too soon.

“Move, we need to move,” I rasp.

One sweep of his arms, and we’re off the desk. Cal presses my back into the bed, letting his weight settle for a moment before pushing up on corded arms. He thrusts in slower, the reckless, desperate streak he has for me straining to break free.

I slap a hand to his chest. “Too sweet.” I’m shaking my head. His hand tugs my leg up under the knee, and he leans back, flipping me over.

“I distinctly remember telling you once before, baby girl. I am not sweet.”

He remembers that . . .

I can’t help but smile as he fists my hair, pressing my cheek into the mattress as a rough hand tugs my hips up to his cock.

He slams into me. The fit so tight, so overwhelming, I cry out, wrapping my fingers around any bit of blanket I can.

Long, hard vicious strokes thunder into me. His grip on my hair shifts, tugging my face back so I’m forced to look at him. “Still think I’m sweet, Evie baby?”

I open my mouth to respond, but my brain is nowhere ready to form words. Instead, I whimper as another orgasm crests. He slams harder, faster.

“That’s it. Come on my cock. Milk the ever-fucking life out of me. I’m going to watch this perfect damn ass bounce while you do. This is your reminder you are mine, mo ghràdh.”

“I know,” I rasp. “I understand now.”

With a low growl, he thunders into me, leaning over to plant kisses up my spine.

Warmth spirals from my core, sending lightning through my body.

Every inch of me vibrates around him. Ecstasy consumes me in the most beautiful waves as I look back to see his jaw feathering.

His eyes are a dark shade of deep ocean blue.

Cal’s domineering thrusts wane as they turn erratic. He roars, sending ropes of release into me. And I want every last drop he has.

Finally, I am home.

The early morning ocean breeze is in a playful mood, sending my locks about my face as I sit on the sand.

I sweep my hair away, refocusing my attention to the page in front of me.

I’m on book three of the latest popular fantasy series.

It’s safe to say I’m addicted at this point.

The world is magnificent. The plot is plotting.

The banter and spice between the two main characters. .. life-altering.

Cal runs past, jogging his way up and down the stretch of beach on the eastern side of the island. He runs when he needs to process. At least, that’s what I’ve figured out. And he has more on his plate than any man should.

I turn the page.

The heroine pulls her fighting knives from their sheaths as she is cornered in the fight. Five to one...

Eyes flying across the page, I don’t notice the man beside me until he drops onto the beach next to me. A kiss smashes against my cheek. “Good book, baby girl?” he pants.

“So good.”

“Mhmmm, I can think of a better way to spend your time...” He carefully removes the book from my hands, marking my page and closing it before setting it down.

In only shorts after an almost hour-long run, he’s all glistening corded muscle as he sweeps me up off the sand and runs for the waves.

“No! Callum McCreary, you put me down.”

We splash over the waterline, slowing as we move deeper and deeper.

“Still want me to put you down?” Cal’s face is lit up with mirth, the cheekiest grin wrapped around his gorgeous face.

“Don’t you dare!”

He jerks, pretending to drop me.

I squeal, sending the heartiest laugh rolling through his throat. For a tiny beat, I’m back at the south end of the island, hunting for food. Me Jane, Cal Tarzan. I’m being spun around, and the happiness that consumed me then does again right now.

“Cal,” I whisper, and he drops his gaze, the rambunctious laughter fading.

“Yes, my love?”

“ Now you can put me down.”

He releases me, and I sink into the dense, wet sand, the water soaking my shorts to the waist as we move further into the water. I slide my arms around his neck, and his forehead drops to mine.

“Sunshine looks good on you, Evie.”

He’s right. I feel positively alive. Alive, and overwhelmed in the best way possible, and so completely loved.

“I need to tell you something,” I say softly.

He raises a brow, but his eyes stay locked on mine. And to his credit, after the last bomb I dropped on him, he doesn’t flinch.

I press a palm over his heart and reach up on my tip toes. “I?—”

“You . . .”

I expel a nervous laugh.

The one thing I regretted most when I thought I would never see this incredible man again was that I never told him how I feel.

So now, in the sunshine and the swell, utterly enraptured, I brush my lips past his as I pull his head down a fraction and say, “I love you, Cal. I have for months. When I thought I would never have the chance to tell you. That I left without telling you... It broke me.”

“Sweet gir?—”

“No, I need you to know how I feel, especially now.”

Now his hands are cupping my face, his eyes intensifying with earnest as he shakes his head.

“Evie, you’ve been part of me since the day you tossed my journal at my feet.

I was gone before I even stood a chance.

I told you—you and me, we’re nonnegotiable.

No delusional stalker guy or ridiculous dead woman are going to tear us apart. Not happening.”

“Nonnegotiable . . .” I echo softly.

“You got it.”

“So, does that mean I can stay? I can turn the little shack into my library-slash-writing room?” I ask, biting my bottom lip, giving the best pleading face I can summon up.

“You can do whatever you like to it. But Evie, if they decommission the lighthouse, we won’t have a reason to stay here.”

I drag his mouth down until it brushes against my lips. “I can think of a good reason to stay tucked away on this little island with the man I love.”

He chuckles and claims my mouth, hungrier than I expected.

Breathless, I break away. “Where would you go? I mean, where would we go?”

“Now you’re getting the nonnegotiable part.”

I caress his jaw, studying his expression. “We could go anywhere.”

“And what if we can’t?” His face turns serious. “What if this island and lighthouse are all we ever have?”

“Then you will polish your lamp, and I will write my books, and when we are not busy doing that, we’ll make beautiful, beautiful babies.”

His mouth gapes.

I have no idea where that came from. I mean, Joshua and I talked about the idea of it before we got married. I’ve always wanted kids, but the words slipped out like they were the next natural thing for Cal and me. And I realize that was a mistake when he closes his mouth without a word.

“Sorry, I?—”

“Please don’t be sorry, you just took me by surprise. I neve?—”

“We don’t have to talk about it, especially now,” I add quickly. I need to get the hell out of the water. I can’t believe I said that. After finding out about Ava and Reese, that’s possibly the worst thing I could have said. God, I hate myself right now.

“Evie,” Cal calls after me.

I can’t stop. I break free of the oscillating water and swipe my book up as I march for the house. I am the world’s biggest idiot. To think?—

A rough hand grips my arm, and I spin back to face a flustered Cal. His chest cycles through quick breaths. “Mo nighean... I want all those things for you. I do. And we can talk and plan, when we’ve made it through the current crisis.”

“I’m sorry I said it. I just . . .”

“Besides, we never really had a proper start. I want to do things right.”

“What do you mean?”

“Dinner, movies. Kissing the girl I love on the sidewalk in the rain...”

I roll my eyes at him and huff a laugh. “You want to date me? I think we’re past that, Cal.”

“I want to do everything with you. But we’re doing this thing right.”

“I guess you’re going to need my number?” I ask, the coy sound of my voice taking me by surprise.

“Yeah, I should probably ask Irry for that.” He gives me his best shit-eating grin.

I narrow my eyes at him and cross my arms. “If we’re going on a date, we’re doing it in style.”

“We are?” he says with a chuckle.

“Yep. I want to ride on the back of an Indian, arms wrapped around a gorgeous man.”

“Well, shit. Now I have to fix the bike and find some guy...”

I chuckle at him, and he sweeps me into his arms, his mouth dropping to mine in a searing kiss.

A girl could get used to this.

We make it inside, and the radio squeals before settling into a familiar voice. “Watchhouse to Fire Island Lighthouse. Do you read? Over.”

I wander to the radio and pluck up the hand piece. “Watchhouse, this is Fire Island Lighthouse. Over.”

“Hey, Miss Evie. Fancy hearing you on this old channel.”

Em’s amusement makes me smile. Like I haven’t done enough of that today. I drop my book onto the small table the radio sits on and sit on the seat.

“What’s up, Em? Over?”

It feels weird having to add over to every single comment.

“Ah, you know, the usual. Iris wants you two here for the weekend. Over.”

I chuckle. “You use this channel to set up your social engagements often, Emmett Bradford?”

He laughs over the radio before adding, “Only for you and Cal.”

“We’ll be there. What’s the occasion?”

“Ah, nothing special. Some shopping and then a movie night, I think.”

I gasp. God... Yes, please! I could absolutely use a girls’ day out with Iris. “We’ll be there Friday, that soon enough?”

Cal smiles over the glass of ice water he’s holding.

“Perfect. See you then. Over.”

“See you then, Em. Over and out.”

Leaving the glass on the kitchen counter, Cal wanders toward me. “Movie night with Iris and Em?”

“Yep, if you want, we can call it a double date. Or our first date...”

“Em and Iris would have to be dating for that to work, Evie.”

“Yes, they would.” I peck a kiss to the cheek of his currently confused face.

Honestly. How he hasn’t picked up on that little detail already, I will never know.

With writing to get done, I down the last of his ice water and head for the shack, leaving Cal to shower after his run. Or should I say, my new writing-room-slash-library. Oh, the plans I have for this tiny rustic space...

I open my laptop and continue the scene I’m working on.

The heroine is settling into her new routine at the isolated cottage on the east coastline.

A slight variation to our story, but effective nonetheless.

Fingers flying over the keyboard, I tap out a good chunk of words before the sun starts to sink over the horizon.

After the first unwanted letter arrives at its new location, I save and shut the laptop, ready to head inside and help fix dinner. Pushing out of the chair, I stretch. It’s been a good day. I’m content.

I find Cal inside, stirring something that smells like chicken in the frying pan.

“Hmmm. Smells good,” I offer, sitting down at the kitchen counter stool.

“Chicken pasta, with your gourmet tomatoes.” He winks at me.

“Can I help?”

He chuckles. “I got it. You want to set the table or find some drinks?”

I slip from the stool and pluck out two glasses from the upper cabinet before spinning back to find the red in the base of the island counter cupboard. Padding to the table, I set the wine down. Cutlery goes down next, and then two plates. My stomach grumbles. This is my favorite dish.

Our dish. Cal’s cooking, my tomatoes.

Perfection.