Page 39 of Playboy Husband

CALLUM

Iburied my head between Maisie’s legs, my cock painfully hard and my entire being begging to just sink into her, but there were more important matters at hand. Like the way she was writhing against me, a pillow stuffed over her face to keep her moans from escaping.

Brody was asleep right down the hall, and even though both bedroom doors were closed, I knew we had to be careful.

It was definitely going to take some getting used to, though.

I loved being able to hear her, every moan and barely restrained scream burrowing deep into my soul, but when we were at her place, I was going to have to settle for whatever I could get that wouldn’t bring him rushing into the room.

I circled my tongue around her swollen clit, grinning against her soft, soaked flesh when her thighs started trembling around my ears. God, I could do this all night.

Part of me wanted to back off just to make the experience last longer, but Maisie’s muscles were tensing and her insides were fluttering around my fingers. She was too close and I wasn’t sure I could wait much longer either.

I sucked her clit into my mouth and angled my fingers inside her, just grazing my teeth across that sensitive nub before she went off like a firework.

Her body locked around me, her moans turning into muffled cries into the pillow.

She thrashed and gripped my head tighter with her thighs, nearly setting me off as my hips started rocking gently into the mattress of their own accord.

My balls were already tight and tingling, my body right on the precipice. She pulled me up and kissed me hard, obviously not giving a damn about tasting herself on my tongue. She wrapped her legs around me as she pushed her fingers into my hair, her nails dragging across my scalp.

I moaned into her mouth, my breath hitching when I felt her against my shaft, hot, wet, and so fucking soft. Nearly thrusting into her right then and there, I pulled back to grab a condom, my eyes on hers as I rolled it on.

Maisie was completely naked, spread out on her dark purple bedding.

Her chest was heaving, her skin glowing and flushed even in the dim, ambient light streaming in from outside.

With her nipples peaked and her eyes heavily lidded as she looked up at me, she was every dream and every dirty fantasy I’d ever had come true.

I planned on taking it slow, but when her hand came up to cup my cheek and I caught a glimpse of the metal on a very specific finger, I buried myself inside her in a single thrust. My lips crashed back into hers and I started moving, unable to slow down despite my best laid plans.

Maisie met every thrust of my hips with one of her own, her fingers dragging across my back and her mouth hungry on mine. I didn’t stop kissing her even once as I moved in and out of her, suddenly knowing that this was what it meant to make love to someone.

Nothing else existed to me right now, and it wasn’t just because I was horny as shit and chasing that release. It was because this was her and it felt like we’d entered into our own realm of existence. One where there was only pleasure, love, and us.

Unfortunately, even in this realm, physiology and need were physiology and need, and much too soon, I felt an unstoppable orgasm sneaking up on me. Maisie came apart at the same time, quaking underneath me as pleasure exploded out of the very center of my being.

I cleaned her up after, then fell asleep with her in my arms, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was what I wanted. Forever. Contracts and signatures or not.

I woke up some time in the middle of the night. Maisie’s soft, warm breaths ghosted across the bare skin of my chest, and for a while, I just lay there, listening to the even sound of her breathing and waiting for it to lull me back to sleep. It didn’t happen, though.

In the light filtering into the room from outside, I could make out the glint of my ring on her finger where her hand was splayed out across my abs. A deep sense of satisfaction settled in my chest and I closed my eyes, but still, sleep refused to claim me.

Eventually, when I realized there was too much on my mind, I eased out of bed, careful not to wake her.

I found my sweats on the floor and pulled them on.

I hesitated for a second. Looking at her in the pale glow of light coming in through the window, I finally had to force myself to turn and leave the room before I climbed back in beside her.

As beautiful as she was, and as much as I was aching to wake her up for round two, I couldn’t do it. Maisie needed the rest and it looked like she was fast asleep. It felt like it would be almost cruel to wake her up now, either with my cock or my tossing and turning.

I padded down the hall to Brody’s room. His door was cracked open just enough for me to peek in and check on him.

He was sprawled sideways across the bed, one arm dangling over the edge, his mouth open, completely dead to the world.

A tiny snore drifted out of him and I smiled, popping in to tug the blanket back over his shoulder before I left his room.

Obviously, it hadn’t been any sound or movement from here that had woken me. Which meant I was just awake. Randomly. This didn’t happen to me often, but when it did, I’d never managed to go back to sleep before, so I headed downstairs, afraid I’d wake them if I puttered around up here.

Outside, the world was white, but it had stopped snowing.

I drifted toward the kitchen, not sure what I was looking for, but I ended up next to the window with a glass of water in my hand.

I peered out into the street for a little while, thinking about how much fun Brody had had in the snow earlier and wondering if Maisie would let me take them somewhere really wintery during the next school break.

Perhaps Aspen. Or the Swiss Alps. Brody would probably love snowboarding. As I wondered if he’d ever done it before, I kept my hands busy straightening the pile of mail on the counter. Then I adjusted the fruit bowl, then started opening and closing cabinets like I had a reason to.

If I’d brought my laptop, I could’ve used this time productively, but I didn’t have it with me.

I had grabbed my phone from Maisie’s nightstand, though.

Planning on working my way through the mountain of emails in my inbox, I headed to the living room, but as I sat down, a photo album on the shelf under the coffee table caught my eye.

Curiosity got the better of me. My talent for procrastination was stronger than my desire to read yet another proposal about authenticity in branding and how it applies to Westwood and Sons. Leaning forward, I grabbed the edge of the album and flipped it open.

I landed on a page containing old pictures of Maisie and Brody when he was a baby. Pictures of Maisie cradling him in her arms, his tiny body wrapped up in a blanket and his fist curled against her collarbone.

I smiled and turned the page. It really struck me now how young she’d been when she’d had him. Her beaming grin was the same in every picture, bright, fierce, and proud, but I could see the shadows under her eyes. Back then clearly hadn’t been an easy time for her.

Feeling like I was gaining insight into the family I was claiming as my own, I flipped to the front of the album.

When I opened the front cover, a few loose photos slipped out from the inside of the plastic sleeve, nearly falling into my lap.

I caught them just in time, glancing down to see that these weren’t of Brody and Maisie, but of her alone.

Immediately, I recognized them for what they were. Pictures of her diving days, a photographic record of the competitions she’d taken part in back when I’d known her.

In the first one, she stood beside a pool, her shoulders lean and powerful and her hands on her hips as she listened to her coach.

The stands behind her were packed, other people with similar physiques and serious expressions in the background.

The next picture had captured her mid-air, her body arched and her muscles taut as she tucked into some kind of roll.

She looked unstoppable in these. Untouchable. Like a girl with big dreams and even bigger talent. In the third picture, I saw the fire in her eyes that I remembered so well, the competitive spirit that had never been far from the surface.

My stomach knotted, evidence of who she could’ve been literally staring me in the face. I’d known about all this, of course, but it hit differently, seeing it like this instead of just remembering how good she’d been.

She should’ve had a diving career second to none, a future that didn’t involve diapers and playdates when she’d been just a kid herself.

All because some jackass couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

Maisie had sacrificed everything to keep that jerk’s life from derailing, and the price had been her own. Her talent, her dreams, and her future.

I leaned back against the couch, turning to face the window again, but I wasn’t looking at the snowy ground outside.

Instead, those images of Maisie seemed to have been burned into my retinas and a bitter taste filled my mouth.

She’d never once complained to me about having to give up diving.

I’d never heard her say a single bad thing about the jackass who had impregnated her.

She definitely didn’t seem to be dwelling on the what-ifs, but I knew she had to think about it sometimes.

Hell, even I did and I hadn’t even given it up.

I’d played hockey until my career had come to a natural end after college.

D1 was always going be the furthest I took it.

There had been scouts and opportunities, but my reality had always been that the family business was my future.

I’d known that going in, so it hadn’t felt like I’d sacrificed anything once I graduated.

But I still wondered sometimes. Wondered what might’ve been. Maisie had to feel the same way, but she didn’t seem to resent the asshole at all for forcing her to give it all up just because he’d slipped one past the goalie—if there had even been a goalie.

I groaned, immediately shaking that thought out of my head. I absolutely did not want a mental image of her with anyone else, but I swore right then and there that if Maisie, Brody, and I ever went to live on the estate, I’d damn well build her a pool.

Not one to just float around in, but one that was deep enough and wide enough for her to dive in, with diving boards that would allow her to fly again if she wanted to. With my mind made up, I slipped the loose photos back into the sleeve and turned another page.

I froze and blinked hard as I found myself staring at a picture of Sterling.

Except it wasn’t my brother. It couldn’t be, which meant that this had to have been Brody at probably about two years old.

He was grinning with a toy truck in his hand, but something about the angle, his smile, and the exact way his hair had been styled made my breath stall in my lungs.

“What the hell…” I muttered. My mom had a picture of Sterling up on the wall at the mansion, taken at his third birthday party, a picture in which he’d also been holding a toy truck. If I hadn’t known any better, I would have said this was a copy of that exact picture.

I kept staring at it for a long time. My mind fumbled for an explanation that just wouldn’t quite come. Finally, I picked up my phone and snapped a picture of that photograph. Next time I was at the mansion, I would hold it up beside the picture of Sterling just to compare.

I’d seen the resemblance between them before, obviously, but it’d never been as striking as it was now—and I had absolutely no idea what to think anymore.