***This is an excerpt from Embracing Calla by Tamara Mapstead.
Chapter Six
Calla: Wednesday, June 16th, 2021
It’s eight o’clock now, and no sign of Benedict yet. I was able to get some things done while I waited for him. I talked to Rose again, about nothing. She just wanted to chat about her boyfriend and how hot he is. Really, it was a cheap ploy to get me in the mood with my new friend.
Then right after Rose, I called Mary to cancel Benedict’s appointment and she might have read between the lines when I asked her for Dr. Marilyn’s next availability for him. Mary’s smart, and she’s worked with us long enough to know that Benedict’s hotness did triumph and I had to do the right thing by letting him go.
She also said, “I knew you two would get together.” She’s wrong there—we’re not together, we’re friends.
And strangely, Poppy keeps calling me, but I’m trying to remain in a good mood, so I didn’t answer any of the calls. I know it’s nothing serious because Rose would’ve known and said something about her if it was tragic or something.
I was even able to tell Luka again that I did tell him I would be in Los Angeles. He’s really dead set that I never told him. I know I did.
Then at around six or so, Benedict had texted me to ask me to dinner with him and his friend, Ash. I’d declined, because I like that Benedict has someone to talk to. Someone that he seems close to and trusts. That’s sacred and he needs to hold on to that. I don’t need to prance around in the middle of them.
I hear the door open. “Calla?” he whispers.
“Hello.” I quickly turn off Bridgerton and come out of the room.
He has a twinkle in his eye as he runs his hand through his hair. “What’s all this?”
“I promised you a slumber party, but this is not a slumber party. It’s a sleepover.”
“Calla, I—“ He puts a stray curl behind my ear.
He’s so close to me. The sincere look in his eyes makes my heart skip a beat. I catch my breath. “I hope you’re not too full from dinner.”
“I’m not.” He looks around. “You did all this?”
“I wanted to relax and maybe be a little silly.”
He’s checking out all the treats I bought. “What happens now?” He grins, eating a cookie. Is he following my lead?
I grab the pajamas I bought for him. I’m so extra. “I hope these fit.” I toss him the new PJs.
“You bought me pajamas?”
I know, I’m a weirdo. I grab my things and head to the bathroom. “I’m going to change too.” These might be too sexy. They’re floral, so maybe that’s something pretty? The booty is making an appearance, and so is the cleavage. I don’t have much cleavage, but the booty… mmm. I look good.
I know he’s a butt guy from this morning’s doggy-style convo, but I should be fine. Am I leading him on? No, no, I’m not. I’m comfortable.
I fluff my hair and fix an eyelash. Has that eyelash been like that the whole time? I walk out of the bathroom to an adorable Benedict. He does a twirl. The PJs fit him, and he makes them look so cute.
“I’ve never rocked plaid,” he says. “You look pretty in pink!”
Do I? I want to cuddle up with him. “Thank you for being a good sport.” I think he’s eaten most of the cookies already.
“I’m enjoying this.” He hugs me. “Now what, party planner?”
Take me to the bedroom. Rose’s tactic might have worked. I want him more with each minute that ticks by. I need to distract myself, or I’ll probably do something embarrassing. “I really want a cookie,” I blurt.
“Well, let’s get you a cookie.”
Who is this Prince Charming? Deep down, I think he just wants closer to the cookies.
“What kind of cookie do you want?” he asks.
“Peanut butter.”
He hands me one. “You went all out.” He shoves a cookie in his mouth. “I love cookies.”
Ya think? I break off a little piece of my cookie and nibble it.
He watches me, smirking. “Do you eat everything like that?”
“Like how?” I eat normally.
“Like a chipmunk.”
“I don’t eat like a chipmunk!” I push on his shoulder. He feeds me his cookie in one big bite. He’s so romantic. I put my hand over my mouth.
“Too much, little chipmunk?”
I swallow, trying not to choke as I giggle. “In case you didn’t know, chipmunks can stuff a lot of nuts in their mouths,” I point out. He has his head down, smiling, internally laughing as I eat some more of my cookie, grinning proudly. “Are you okay there, Benedict? You look adorable with your red cheeks.” He’s quite the blusher. “My sister says I eat like a baby bird, but chipmunks are cuter. I like to savor it.”
“I think of chipmunk because your cheeks are full and cute when you smile. I kind of want to pinch them.” He looks like he’s in awe of me—or possibly drunk. I think it’s awe. That makes me feel better.
I throw out a suggestion for what to do next. “Do you want to put face masks on and play truth or dare?”
“Let’s do it!”
I love how he’s doing what I say. I’m not used to this. “Do you want to put it on me?” I don’t think that’s necessary, but I want to see how far he’ll go.
“Sure.”
Wow, I like him. I sit on the bathroom sink.
He fondles the tube of face mask. “Where do I put it?”
“On my face,” I tease as I spread my thighs.
He raises an eyebrow. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. Everywhere?”
He positions himself between my legs as I point at all the spots. Touch me. He’s so gentle, like he’s trying not to hurt me. The fabric of his pants tickles my inner thighs, making me clench. He’s completely turning me on, and I didn’t think I was capable of feeling like that. I’m holding my breath. I can’t open my eyes because I know his eyes will send me over the edge, and I have to control myself.
I wrinkle my nose. The rose fragrance is intense and a bit overwhelming, but it’s worth it. I want to touch him so badly. He’s so close to me, and I want more of him. I’m so out of my element. I have this urge to pounce on him, and I also feel like that’s wrong.
“There,” he says, and I open my eyes. “You’re beautiful!” Those eyes. He washes his hands and exits the bathroom. That’s how you calm my tits; just leave the room.
In the other room, I find him stuffing his face with cookies. “Ahem!”
He turns around. “Sorry, I have a problem.” He talks with a mouthful of cookies.
“Did you not want me to put a mask on you?”
“Oh yeah. Sorry. Should we go back into the bathroom?” He rubs his hands together to remove the cookie crumbs.
“No, the couch works.” He sits on the couch.
Just don’t stare into his eyes and you will survive this. I dab a little on his cheek. “You know what? It would be easier if I hover over you, is that okay?”
“Do whatever you need to do.”
Okay, I will. I straddle him. Calla, don’t grind on him. Just put the mask on his face and get off him. I put a dot on his other cheek.
“It’s cold.” He crinkles his nose.
He has cookie crumbs on his lip and chin. Just wipe them off, don’t think about his mouth on you. What’s wrong with me? When did I become a horny teenage boy? His hand is on my back again, and I’m going to explode. I bite my lip hard and softly flick the crumbs off. He licks his lips, and I might moan when he does.
I’m losing my shit. He’s turning me on. I’m going to ruin this by trying to have sex with him.
“Are you okay?”
Fuck me. Just do it. I want to, I really do. I never thought I would want to have sex so bad ever.
“Yeah, why?” I’m panting. I think I broke out in a sweat. He has a pink, rose-smelling face now, and I still want to fuck the shit out of him. “There.” I lean back and make sure I didn’t miss any spots. “You’re done!”
He winks with a one-sided smile. “Am I beautiful now?” he teases.
“So beautiful.”
He runs his hand through my hair. Just grind a little, just a little grind. Not a noticeable one, a simple grind as you get off him. An oops-I’m-getting-off-you grind.
“Your hair was sticking to your face.”
He can touch my hair any time he pleases. I’m so glad you are not a client anymore.
I have to change the subject. I’m having a hard time getting off him. I should get off of him. “Are you ready for some truth or dare? I only do truth, just so you know. I’m scared of dares. I also have ‘Would You Rather’ because ‘Never Have I Ever’ would always be never for me, so I thought that would get boring rather quickly.”
“I’m up for anything, Calla.”
I get that. You have a pink face. I get off him, and I don’t grind. I have to be respectful. I wash my hands and grab the games off the bed. I had made that the game station, but putting him on a bed right now is a wrong move for my sexual desires.
I sit next to him and lay my head on the arm of the couch. I strategically put my legs over his lap.
“I’ll read first.” The irony hits me hard when I see the question. “What’s the weirdest thing you’ve done on a plane?” I ask.
“One time, this redhead was scared, but she needed my cuddles, so I accepted the challenge.” He looks like he doesn’t know where to put his hands.
Put them on my leg. I don’t mind. I’m encouraging it. “That girl sounds crazy. Your turn.” I hand him the box of questions.
“What’s the most scandalous photo of you in your cloud?”
“Do I show you or tell you?”
He looks interested…
