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I accept it from her and drop a kiss on her forehead before I take a sip of the steaming-hot liquid, jet black, just the way I like it.
Her gaze falls on the table, then shifts over to the empty bookcase. “What are you doing up here, anyway? Did you forget to give them something?”
I shake my head and scan the room. “No, they have everything they need. I was just…reflecting.”
That soft line between her brows grows deeper. “On what?”
Offering a shrug, I motion back to the window. “Everything. So much has happened in only a few months.” I can’t fight the grin that pulls up my lips. “After you came barreling into my life.”
She laughs and wraps her arms around my waist, burying her face against my chest. “Well, to be fair, it was more like stumbling.”
“You really suck at walking in those heels.”
“Hey!” She jerks her head back, mouth agape, and smacks my arm. “I do not. It got stuck between the boards.”
“And what about when you wore them in the bedroom last week?”
I raise a brow at her, and images of her bent over the bed in those shoes flash through my head—along with her almost falling three times just moving around the room.
She scowls even harder and points at me. “That was because it was dark, and I couldn’t see where I was going.”
Chuckling, I take another sip of my coffee. “It wasn’t dark, Beauty. I had the candles lit. Remember?”
“Oh…” She frowns. “You did. Well, whatever.” She waves a hand dismissively. “I don’t suck at walking in heels.”
She does.
But thankfully, she does not do much walking once she puts them on.
I typically have her on her back or knees in about five fucking seconds the minute I see those fuck-me pumps, or they end up on the floor along with the rest of her clothes before I can enjoy the feel of them biting into my back.
“I’m not complaining, Beauty. You can wear them anytime you want. In fact, I encourage it.”
She laughs lightly. “I will. Don’t even think about buying me more, though.”
I chuckle at her incredulous reaction. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t really need them up here. And you’re right. They are a little hard to walk in. Plus…”
Callista pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, glancing away for a second.
I grip her chin and tilt it up to me. “What is it, Beauty? What’s wrong?”
She releases her lip and clears her throat. “Nothing is wrong, per se.”
The acidic coffee in my stomach churns as I stare at the unease ghosting through her green gaze.
I hate to see it there.
Wish I never had to again.
Had hoped that once we got everything resolved with the FBI and Wendy that I wouldn’t have to.
But the last few days, she’s seemed a bit restless.
Off somehow.
And no amount of placations, extravagant gifts, or orgasms from me have seemed to make it any better.
