the couch and grits his teeth as I make my move. “Fucking hell, Nikki, that’s . . .”
“Perfection,” I let out in a breathy voice. I groan at how he stretches me out in the best possible way.
With both hands on my cheeks, he pulls me to his face once more. “Exactly.”
I start out slowly, moving up and down with both of my hands on his shoulders for leverage. It’s barely a minute before Callum flashes that hyperconcentrated look in his eyes. He leans up. With one hand on my hip and the other still cupping my face, the corner of his mouth quirks up.
“Nikki. I . . .”
The new angle hits a deep spot, and I fall forward, barely able to contain myself. My lips land on his, cutting him off. I start to kiss him until I’ve got no more air in my lungs.
I direct my hand down low to that spot that’s been on fire ever since I straddled Callum. Right now it’s begging, pleading for attention. I move my hand softly at first, swirling a slow rhythm until the heat morphs into pressure.
Callum’s eyes fall to where my hand is. “Yes. Just like that,” he growls.
Faster and faster I swirl until every blink gives way to blurry vision. Then it comes.
Through all the convulsing, all the whimpering, all the panting, one thing is clear: this climax is perfection, and the reason why is because it’s with Callum.
He holds me up as I thrash against him, refusing to let himself break until I’ve gotten mine. When I come down, his body tenses, his jaw bulges, and his eyes go hazy. But somehow he’s still got me. His muscled arms shroud me like a warm blanket. Under them, I’m safe. Under him, everything is perfect.
We hug each other as we fall over into a lying position on the couch. Our breathing shallow, we take a second to reposition ourselves. He’s the big spoon like always, and I’m tucked tightly against him. It’s my favorite position to fall asleep in. I stretch against him, my eyelids heavy with each blink. I let them close for real this time, the soft lull of Callum’s breath above me soothing me like a lullaby.
From behind me, he leans his mouth to my ear. “I have to tell you something.”
“Mmm?” is all I can manage from my drowsy haze.
“Nikki, I . . .”
Before he can finish, I’m sound asleep.
Chapter 18
Every time I look up, it’s the same sight. A sea of food trucks at the Maui Food Festival. Usually from this spot in downtown Lahaina, you get a clear view of the harbor dotted with dozens of boats, but not today.
I retie my apron while scanning the crowd. It’s wall-to-wall people, and it’s barely noon. After just two hours, it’s packed to the max. Today there are a million food trucks and booths set up side by side, as far as the eye can see. People saunter at a snail’s pace from eatery to eatery because walking at a normal speed when it’s this crowded is out of the question.
I relish the nonstop workflow though. It’s the only way to distract myself from my last mind-blowing night with Callum. Since then, we’ve been so busy with festival prep that we could barely find the time to text each other, let alone see each other in person.
I force the focus back to the chaos in front of me. I can’t think about Callum or how much I’d rather be in bed with him than sweating my skin off and cooking for every stranger that passes by. Our last night together was just that: one night. Today is what matters.
Today we find out if Tiva’s Filipina Kusina keeps our coveted spot on Makena Road, or if we have to scramble to find someplace new. I’m sweating like a sinner in church. God bless this black tank top and its ability to hide all the dampness leaching from my pores.
Even breaths and swallows help me keep my composure. All I can manage are nods, polite smiles, and pleasantries whenever I take cash or hand out food, nothing more.
Behind me, Mom fries endless orders of lumpia and chicken adobo wings.
“Three orders of fruit salad, coming right up! Two orders of chicken adobo wings, coming right up!” She practically sings every order.
A group of regulars stops by to say hello and welcome her back after the health-related hiatus she took.