But he lived in a house.
It was three stories tall with oak trees along the front yard. A black gate kept pedestrians off his property, and rose bushes covered in thorns lined the pathway. A large three-car garage connected to the street behind the house. Since we were on foot, we entered through his front door.
Hardwood made of deep cherry wood was underneath our feet, and the entryway table was just as dark. A long red rug led the way into the center of the house. A wooden staircase was to the right, leading to the other two floors, and an expansive living room was directly before us. The couches were made of gray cotton, and a large flat screen was on the wall. The entryway alone was the size of my tiny apartment.
The kitchen was decked out in granite countertops, black appliances, and a Sub-Zero fridge with a glass door that allowed you to see everything inside. Fruits, vegetables, lean meat, and almond milk were displayed in the forefront. His diet was clearly strict, but I wasn’t surprised based on his incredible physique.
The moment I stepped foot inside that kitchen, I was in love. Not with him, but with the room. It was enormous, big enough for him to prep dinner for twenty guests. There was a large kitchen island in the center and lots of counter space on either side. I couldn’t stop myself from wearing my heart on my sleeve, and I sighed in longing. “This is the most beautiful kitchen I’ve ever seen.”
He leaned against the counter, his arms over his chest. “You like it?”
“I love it. I’ve always dreamt of having a kitchen like this.”
He watched me admire his home, his blue eyes never leaving my face.
“I don’t even have a stove.” I laughed because it was funny, but it was also depressing. I had to do all my cooking with a microwave and I ate take out for everything else. It was a lifestyle I chose because it was the lesser of two evils. If I wanted to make a real difference in this world and help people, I had to sacrifice a few things—like having a nice kitchen and being debt-free.
“You’re welcome to come over and cook whenever you want.”
I smiled when I realized his motive. “You just want someone to cook for you.”
“Naked, of course. That’s a requirement.”
“I’d have to wear an apron at least.”
“I’ll let you wear panties—but that’s it.” He didn’t smile to show he was joking. He looked dead serious.
My ears started to feel warm, so I changed the subject. “This isn’t where I pictured you living.”
“And where did you think I would live?”
“In a penthouse.”
“I did for a while. But I like the feel of a house. No neighbors and no elevators. And I like having a yard.”
“Do you have a dog?”
“No. But maybe someday.”
I could picture him with a black Lab or a golden retriever. He seemed like an outdoor pet owner. But perhaps I misread him.
He pushed off the counter with his hips. “So, I could make dinner while you’re in the shower. Or we can both shower and make dinner together.” He closed in on me until my body was pressed against the counter. His hands gripped the edge on either side of me, and he looked down into my face with a hungry expression. He eyed my lips like he was restraining himself from sucking my bottom lip into his mouth.
I was already wet.
I wanted to see him buck naked. I wanted to see those chiseled lines of muscle I knew were under his shirt. My fingers wanted to travel down, feeling every bump and groove, until I found his happy trail between the V of his hips. And I wanted to see that enormous cock that dry-humped the fuck out of me last night. No other man in my life had gotten me this hot and bothered. Calloway brought the desire out of me, pulling it from every pore until I was a dog in heat. Sometimes, I couldn’t tell if it was his beauty or his charisma that brought me to my knees. I hated giving head, but all I wanted to do was put that big cock in my mouth and bring him to his knees the way he did to me last night.
His eyes scanned my face, searching for the slight hints I couldn’t stop myself from giving. He scanned my lips then my eyes. His gaze turned to my chest, watching it rise and fall at a quickened pace. “I want to see every inch of you.” With his eyes glued to mine, his hand moved to the front of my jeans and unbuttoned them before he yanked down the zipper. Then his hand slithered down my front until he found the cotton fabric of my panties. His fingers gently explored, feeling my lips as well as my clitoris. He took a deep breath as he explored me, and once he secured his fingers over my clit, he rubbed it in a circular motion.
My knees wobbled because his fingers felt so good. With immense experience, he rubbed me off just the way I did to myself when I was alone. Like he was a woman himself, he understood exactly how I wanted to be touched. I gripped his arm and held on as he set me on fire.