With Everything I Am (The Three #2)(68)

Sonia liked the idea of showing Regan her store. She was proud of Clear. It was, in the only way she’d ever get, like showing her Momma her store because Regan had known her Momma for ages and they’d been close friends.

“I’d like that,” she said softly and Callum’s eyes also went soft, this time not in a sexy way, in a tender way.

“She’s also going to take you to the grocery store,” Caleb announced from across the table and Sonia’s head swung to face him. “You don’t have any beer in your house.”

Sonia glanced at the clock she could see over her sink in the kitchen and back at Caleb.

“It’s 10:30 in the morning,” she informed him.

“Your point?” Caleb shot back hilariously before he grinned.

Sonia grinned back.

“Queen Sonia, this is Magnum, he’s Sergeant of Callum’s Royal Guard,” Saint introduced the man sitting at the table that Sonia didn’t know. Though she had briefly met him, though didn’t remember his name, in the round robin introductions yesterday after they’d dealt with Desdemona.

“Magnum,” she smiled at him.

“Queen Sonia,” he replied.

She threw her hand out and said to Magnum, “Considering all this queen stuff is new and I don’t want to get a big head, you know, being suddenly royal and all, it’s probably best to lose the ‘queen’ part and just call me Sonia.” Her eyes glided to Saint to include him in her statement.

She felt Callum’s body relax under hers and hadn’t noticed it was tense. He leaned forward and grabbed his coffee mug from the table, taking her with him and bringing her attention to him. As he leaned back, his neck twisted, he looked at her and he winked.

King Callum winked at her.

Holy cow.

Her body went statue-still.

He took a sip of coffee, replaced the mug, sat back and his hand at her hip gave her a squeeze before he called, “Baby doll?”

“What?” she whispered, still frozen, mind blank, reacting to the wink and the fact that that one wink took the cotton out of the thimble and filled it with cement.

“You okay?” Callum asked.

She blinked. Then she swallowed.

“I just have a headache,” she replied.

One look at his face told her that was the wrong answer. His brows shot together and his hand at her hip gripped her harder.

“Do you get those often?” he enquired.

“What?”

“Headaches?” he asked, his voice not soft, not tender, not teasing but sounding impatient.

“Um…” she was uncertain of the state of affairs or, more to the point, uncertain how his mood had flipped so quickly. For goodness sakes, it was just a headache. “Not really. I mean, occasionally. When I’m under stress.”

“Did you take something for it?” he queried, she nodded and his hand relaxed as did his body. “Is that what I heard you taking this morning?”

She nodded again, saying cautiously, “That and my vitamins.”

“It sounded like you were opening a pharmacy in there. How many vitamins do you take?”

She did a quick mental calculation and told him, “Six.”

He stared at her.

“In the morning,” she went on when he didn’t speak. “I take a couple more at lunch.”

He burst out laughing.

She blinked again at his second change of mood in the last thirty seconds then she decided to look on the bright side. At least he didn’t look angry anymore.

His hand traveled up her back to cup her neck and maneuver her head toward his.

Mouth again at her ear, he stated quietly, “We’ll work out that stress later, baby doll.”

And, fighting the shiver his words caused, she could do nothing but nod yet again.

His other hand slid up the outside of her thigh, over her hip and under her silk knit, wide ribbed, black turtleneck, then down, digging into the waistband of her winter white wool slacks.

This time, she hadn’t forgotten their audience and she stiffened in his arms.

“Callum, what are you –?” she stopped when his long finger hooked on something under the material of her slacks and he pulled out her claiming chain. Freeing it completely, he settled it around her h*ps outside her slacks as she finished breathily, “Doing.”

Her mind took that moment to remind her how the chain felt dangling from her body while he drove into her last night, the delicate links a tantalizing torment against her sensitive skin. And more, after they had cl**axed, when she had lowered her arms and Callum was still behind her, gently thrusting inside her, the chain had slid up her waist, her ribcage, to rest on the underside of her overly aroused br**sts. The charm tweaking so close to her nipple, at the time, every inch of her body so responsive, she’d had to bite her lip not to cry out in pleasure.

That reminder, so sharp it was almost as if took her back to the actual moment, made the urge start to surface, wanton impulses flooded her brain. Things she wanted to do to Callum. Things she wanted him to do to her.

“I like to see it,” Callum muttered, his voice bringing her hooded eyes to his. His gaze lifted from the chain to her face and his body grew tight under hers then he whispered, “Fucking hell, baby doll.”

She took in a fluttering breath and tried to calm her thoughts, focusing on his hand still moving at her chain. He was fiddling with it and her head tipped down to look.