He stood outside a long time, apparently too long because Violet slid into him again, this time pressing up to his front and wrapping her arms all the way around him.

He dipped his chin to see she was gazing up at him.

“Come inside, baby,” she whispered.

It was her calling him “baby” like she did her daughters, sweet, gentle, tender, that one word getting under his skin, making Cal give it to her straight and he didn’t delay but he also didn’t share it all with her, not even half of it.

“That was my ex-wife.”

Violet pressed closer. “I figured something like that.”

Cal noted the sudden absence of the toxin searing through his system just as he noted that Violet’s face was soft, her eyes searching his through the dark. She wasn’t casting judgment, nothing was working behind her eyes, wondering about him, about Bonnie, about how he could have been with Bonnie, about the scene she’d just witnessed. She was focused solely on him and, he suspected, even though she didn’t know it was there, she had to know something was, so she was focused on taking away the burning sting of the poison a visit from Bonnie always injected him with.

He’d never had that either but having it then from Vi made him lift his hand and cup her jaw, tilting her head back further so he could bend his neck and touch his mouth to hers. He’d done that twice tonight, kissed her lightly, and he couldn’t remember if he’d ever done that to a woman in his life.

When he did, she unwrapped one of her arms from his waist and her hand came up, her finger slid down his hairline then all of her fingers glided into his hair.

She lifted up on her toes and, against his mouth, she urged, “Come inside, Joe.”

Then she moved away but grabbed his hand and he allowed her to lead him into his house.

* * *

“Fuck,” Cal whispered, his hands in Vi’s hair, his palms at the sides of her head, his fingers curled around the back.

She was on her knees in front of him, he was standing, her hands were at his hips, over his jeans, she’d only pulled his dick free before she started working him.

Now, if he didn’t stop it, he was going to come in her mouth.

He pulled out, leaned down and yanked her up with his hands in her pits. He twisted her, throwing her on the bed and he covered her.

“Joe, I wanted to –”

His hands found her hips, she was wearing underwear so he wrenched it, her hips jerked and she gasped to silence as the material tore free and he tossed it aside.

He wrapped his hand around his cock, guided the tip inside then surged in.

So slick, so tight, he hadn’t even touched her, didn’t kiss her, she just led him to the side of the bed, dropped to her knees, unbuttoned his jeans, wrapped her hand around his dick and pulled him free then she went down on him and he loved it that she so obviously got off on giving him head.

“Joe,” she breathed when she was full of him.

She liked his dick, Christ, she fucking loved it and didn’t mind him knowing it.

His hand fisted in her hair and he brought her mouth to his, fucking her hard as he kissed her. She kissed him back, lifted her cocked legs and pressed them to his sides so he could ride her harder and drive even deeper.

“Yes, baby,” she moaned into his mouth, rocking her hips to meet his thrusts.

She’d worked miracles with her mouth. If she didn’t hurry, he was going to come before her.

“Buddy, hurry, I want you to come with me.”

“Harder, Joe.”

“Split you in two, I fuck you harder.”

Her arm tightened around his back and her fingers slid into his hair.

“I can take it.”

He drove into her harder, deeper, so much her breath hitched with each stroke.

“Baby?” he called.

“Love that, Joe,” she whispered, he couldn’t believe it but she proved it by kissing him.

He felt it start for her, her cunt spasmed, sucking him deeper and that felt so fucking good, he had no choice but to let go so he did and he experienced, for the first time, sharing an orgasm simultaneously with a partner.

It was outstanding.

When he was done, he gave her his full weight and only shifted to a forearm when he heard her breath go heavy.

“Joe –”

Before he thought about what he was doing, his head came up and his eyes locked on hers in the dark.

“You even think of tellin’ me you’re goin home, I swear to Christ –”

Her fingers came to his lips just like he saw her do to Keira at Colt and Feb’s barbeque.

“Baby, relax,” she whispered. “I was just gonna tease you about tearing my underwear.”

He felt something contract in the left side of his chest, something he didn’t get. It wasn’t exactly painful but it was strong enough that it made itself known. His fingers curled around her wrist and he pulled her hand away.

“I’ll buy you another pair.”

“I don’t need another pair.” Her thighs, still at his sides, pressed deeper. “Anyway, it’s worth the loss to have that memory. Big, bad, scary Joe Callahan, security to the stars, losing control and ripping away my underwear.”

He pushed his hips into her and he heard her suck in breath.

“Not a big fan of bein’ teased, buddy.”

Her arms tightened around him and she whispered, “Then whoever did it to you wasn’t doin’ it right.”

Cal didn’t reply and she gave him another squeeze of her arms.

“We got about an hour, Joe, I need to sleep.”

He again didn’t reply but he pulled out and righted her in the bed. He tugged off his jeans, pulled her key out of the pocket, putting it on the nightstand and tossed the jeans aside. Then he stretched out beside her and yanked the covers over them. She settled into him, wrapping a leg around his thigh, her arm around his gut and setting her cheek to his shoulder.

He stared at the dark ceiling and moved his fingers on her hip and ass until he felt her relax into him.

He thought she was asleep when she mumbled, “You okay, honey?”

She meant Bonnie.

He closed his eyes and his hand palmed her ass.

“Go to sleep, Vi.”

“All right,” she whispered on a weak squeeze of her arm.

He felt sleep claim her and he knew he needed to be shot of her. He needed this done. He shouldn’t have started it up again, even with her getting the way it was, he should never have fucking started it again.

But he did and even knowing he should end it, he had no intention of doing that.

None whatsoever.

* * *

She slid away from him and his eyes opened as he felt her body leave his bed.

He looked at the clock; it was six forty-seven.

Fuck. They should have set the alarm, they’d overslept.

She was hurrying, standing at the side of the bed, her hands on his tee, ready to pull it off.

“Leave it,” he growled, her body jolted and she twisted to look over her shoulder at him.

“What?”

“Wear my tee home,” he ordered.

“Wear it home?” she asked, sounding confused and turning to face him.

“Yeah.”

“But –”

“I wasn’t askin’,” he told her. “Wear it home.”

“I –” she started, stopped, he watched her face get soft then she whispered, “Okay.”

She bent down and grabbed her robe and nightgown and turned to leave.

“Buddy.”

She turned back.

“Get over here.”

“Joe, I slept late,” she told him.

“Come here.”

She hesitated then walked the three steps to the bed. He reached out, grabbed her hand and yanked hard so she came off her feet, her hands and a knee landing in the bed. As she came down, he dropped her hand and hooked his fingers around her neck, pulling her mouth to his.

He kissed her, her tongue tangling with his in that way he liked, like they were locked in some kind of hot, sexy battle for supremacy, winner takes all and then he let her mouth go but not her neck.

“You kiss me before you leave my house.”

She was breathing heavy and she whispered, “Okay.”

He touched his mouth to hers for the third fucking time in less than a fucking day.

Then he said, “Go home.”

“’Bye Joe.”

“Later buddy.”

He watched as she turned and walked across his room before he called her name.

“Vi.”

She whirled. “Yeah, Joe?”

He reached to his nightstand and hooked her key ring on a finger then held it out to her.

She rushed back, snatched the key from his hand, leaned down, fingers to his cheek and brushed her lips against his. Then she pulled back, grinned at him, he felt that contraction in his left chest again before she straightened, turned and disappeared.

He fell to his back and his hands went to his face, rubbing his skin.

And again he decided he should end it.

His life was good. He didn’t need anything to derail it. He’d worked hard, he kept going the way he was, he could retire to a good life by the time he was fifty.

He travelled a lot, was never home, hated the fucking winters in Indiana, the cold seeped into your bones. He had no idea why he kept the house there except that it reminded him of his Dad, some vague memories of his Mom and then there was the six months when Nicky was there.

His beach house in Florida was in the middle of nowhere, two bedrooms, tiny, a twenty minute drive through the bush just to get to a grocery store, perfect. Vi’d hate it. He’d taken a woman there once, didn’t remember her name, blocked it out because the bitch whined for two full days and he eventually drove her and her suitcase out, dropped her at the airport and left her there.