Long Way Down (Calloway Sisters) Read online

  “We should go night swimming later,” I say as though the act is entirely daring and dangerous, even if it’s not. I lick my sticky fingers. “We can play sharks and minnows.”

  He just kisses the top of my head and then he opens the black iron-gate. This is when I realize we’re leaving the pool area and heading towards the woods. I hesitate, and he clasps my hand, watching me carefully. It’s not like I’ve never been in the backyard woods before. It’s just that we rarely go out at night, at least not without a flashlight.

  I glance back at the house for Coconut. She’s sitting patiently by the glass door, eyes on me.

  “I can go get her,” Ryke says. He’s not put off by the idea of bringing her along on our mysterious adventure.

  I bite my lip in thought and look between Ryke and our husky. I trust Ryke more than any other person, and while Coconut is extra security, I don’t want to rely on her all the time. I’d rather her be more of a friend than a lifeline.

  I squeeze his hand. “I’m fine.”

  His eyes flicker to the darkened woods, filled with pine and spruce trees. I can’t really read his expression, but it’s like his thoughts are churning hard. “We can go back inside if you—”

  “No.” I refuse this option and then tug him forward. “Let’s go. An adventure awaits.”

  He easily catches up to my side and then wraps his arm around my shoulders. The grass is damp from the sprinklers, and in the dark, I can barely make out the tree line where the woods begin.

  I step on something…strange. I stop and nudge it with my foot. A cord? “I stepped on something,” I tell him.

  Ryke bends down. “Hold on.”

  I wait.

  And then, suddenly, dangling bulbs illuminate. What.

  Rounder and bigger than Christmas lights.

  Dozens of them. All at once.

  My lips part. They’re strung horizontally along trunks, creating a bright pathway into the thicket of trees. Leading somewhere.

  I lose my voice to the beautiful atmosphere, like something from a fairytale. Lightning bugs even blink in and out tonight. I notice the orange extension cord beneath my feet, extending back into the pool area. The switchbox is beside Ryke’s boots.

  He stands and gauges my reaction.

  I’m stunned to silence. I wouldn’t consider Ryke a romantic Scrooge. He sweeps me off my feet in his own way, packing picnic lunches, riding to the mountains for the weekend. Taking an early morning dip in a hot spring. Making love on the roof.

  It’s all very romantic to me, but this is on another level. This took major planning and time. It’s not my birthday. It’s not Valentine’s Day. But I have been sad lately, and Ryke would put in more effort if he thought it’d cheer me up.

  Mission success. I practically float forward in wonderment, my body and spirit weightless and airy. I glance at him again. “Where does it lead?”

  He takes off my baseball hat and messes my hair with affection. “I’ll show you.” He sets my hat back, and then he guides me straight ahead. “Be fucking careful where you step.”

  I forgot to put on shoes, and he curses beneath his breath, pissed that he didn’t remember this detail. He even looks back at the house.

  “I don’t need shoes. It’s mainly pine needles.” He’s really trying tonight. I attempt to peer forward as we follow the lit path, weaving between trees. I contemplate running ahead and having him run after me, but he seems more nervous than usual, his fingers constantly combing through his hair.

  Maybe he’s really aroused, and he’s worried that I won’t be tonight. “I want to have sex,” I tell him bluntly. I do want to, not just to please him but because the kitchen make out session ended quickly and my blood is still pumping.

  His brows scrunch, caught off guard. It takes him a second to regroup, and he asks what he always does, “For me or for you?” For me is the right answer.

  I’ve been known to try to please him when I’m not feeling it as much, my sex drive never as high as his. The problem: Ryke is really turned off if I’m not receiving pleasure, or at least on my way to being aroused.

  It’s just difficult sometimes to reach that place, but I know he’d rather not have sex if I’m not into it. I love that he cares so much about what I feel.

  “For both of us,” I say truthfully.

  He searches my eyes for a second and then nods. I get the sense that he wasn’t even thinking about sex until I brought it up. He kisses my cheek, the one with the long scar, and then we step into a circular clearing, the bulbs forming a border around the outside trees.

  I can’t miss what lies in the middle. Pink rose petals strewn over feather-light bedding: a white comforter with white fluffy pillows. All raised off the ground like an air mattress rests beneath.

  I detach from Ryke, nearing it in a daze. A box of expensive chocolates sits right beside binoculars. I look up, the stars twinkling, perfectly clear.

  I inhale the fresh, crisp air, crickets chirruping in the distance. It’s magical. “You did all this yourself?” I wonder, still scanning the lights and chocolates.

  “I had help.”

  He had help. My sisters, I realize. Lo and Connor. They were all in on this. I think…maybe, I’m beginning to have an idea why now. Why today.

  I slowly turn to face Ryke. I detect the earnestness in his gaze, in his opened stance, and our pasts seem to rise from the grave. Two people who weren’t allowed to love each other. Two people who now unapologetically do.

  He walks towards me, my heart racing with his lengthy stride. I watch his hand disappear into his pocket, and I can’t speak, a soulful force tugging locked parts of me.

  For a rare moment, I am utterly still.

  “I’ve been alone for most of my life,” Ryke starts. I hang on every word. He’s almost twenty-seven. I can see the hard, lonely years behind his eyes, but he never wears exhaustion. Ryke belongs with nature, able to withstand the seasons and time just like the rocks he climbs. He keeps going, he keeps moving, and he picks everyone up when they’ve fallen behind.

  It’s this unyielding strength that I feel now, drawing us closer.

  “And then I met you,” he says huskily. He holds my face with his large, calloused hand. I really love those hands. He pauses to gather his thoughts, and the longer he takes, the more my eyes begin to well.

  “I made your life crazy,” I whisper.

  He nods like it’s a good thing. “Yeah, Dais. You made it fucking crazy, and I’ve been so crazy in love with you.” He breathes deeply with me. Every time he pauses, our gazes roam each other, saying just as much in silence as we do in words.

  His fingers brush through the side of my hair, skimming my ear. He removes my baseball cap again, this time stuffing it in his back pocket.

  “In college,” he says, “I used to want weeks to myself. I used to just fucking check out and leave.”

  My lips lift, remembering him telling me how he’d go climbing and turn off his cellphone for a few days, so no one from college bothered him. So he was mentally at peace, just for a while anyway.

  He grew up relying on himself. He grew up in solitude. Being around people, constantly, gave him a headache back then. I can understand wanting to be away from all the noise. Modeling was like that for me. I just wanted out, to stop. And breathe.

  After another moment, I can tell he’s gathered his thoughts, focused and assured. I rise on the tips of my toes, like I can reach his voice, like I can meet his love head-on.

  “I go two days without seeing you, Dais, and it fucking kills me. I never thought I’d love someone this way.” His hard eyes almost soften. “I never thought I could, but you’ve made me love my life more than I ever fucking have. I can’t even imagine spending the rest without you.”

  I’m filled with earth-shattering sentiments that vibrate my bones, my legs weak but my body weightless.

  He removes his hand from his jeans, revealing a black box. And I suddenly worry—I clasp my hands around his.
br />   “Wait,” I say, my stomach in knots.

  Ryke pales, more than I’ve ever seen from him. He’s frozen cold, and a pain already twists in my core, burrowing through me. I never want to be the one that hurts him, but I also can’t bar him from a fulfilled life either.

  “You want a family,” I remind Ryke. My voice breaks at family. I blink once, and the suppressed tears slide down my cheeks. Hot trails, dripping off my jaw and chin.

  His features toughen, making sense of why I stopped him now. “Don’t, Daisy.”

  “I may not be able to give you that—”

  “It doesn’t fucking matter,” he says passionately.

  I swallow a lump in my throat, recalling what the doctors said about the cysts on my ovaries. How my chances for children are slim. How I could start trying, the sooner the better, but it’s a bumpy road that might end without success or hope.

  “You need to be sure,” I say quickly. “You have to be sure. We can always wait, to see if I can have a kid first. You don’t have to commit in case I can’t.”

  I want to give him an out. I don’t want to bind Ryke to me if later on he realizes that he wants more—more that I can’t ever offer him. He deserves everything he’s ever dreamed of, and I couldn’t live knowing I prevented him from that.

  He cups my face with both hands, tugging me closer to his body in a forceful, Ryke Meadows way that says listen to me, sweetheart. “I fucking love you.” Tears build in his eyes. I’m crying more, and his thumb brushes my cheeks. “All I need is you.”

  I try to cover my face, used to shielding my emotions, but if anyone has ever seen them, it’s been Ryke. He gently pulls my hands down, and he presses his forehead against mine. He hugs me tightly, his body warm and safe.

  He says affectionately, “You’re my family, Dais. And if it’s only the two of us in the end, I’d be just as fucking happy.”

  When my tears drip again, they belong to a different place in my heart. I nod and then kiss him, inhaling his declaration. I grasp his hair, clinging to him, his strong-willed energy feeding into mine. He kisses back with just as much force and vigor.

  I don’t expose what originates deep inside of me. I want babies in the future. He knows I do. I know he does too. We’ve talked about it too many times to think differently.

  I pull away first, my hands on either side of his face, his gaze diving straight into me. “I love you,” I say with a tearful smile. “I love you so much.”

  He kisses me lightly, and as his lips travel to my ear, his unshaven jaw skims my cheek, tingling my senses. While wrapped in his arms, he murmurs deeply, “Will you fucking marry me?”

  My smile widens. “Yes.” There is no other answer in my heart than this one.

  As he pulls back to see my expression, he wears a wide, full smile of his own. It’s a rare sight, filling me with raw happiness. I welcome every ounce of these passing sentiments, in total bliss for this moment, for tonight.

  No one jumps out of the bushes or from behind trees, and I’m really glad he didn’t invite my parents or sisters and make it a spectacle. This belongs to us.

  He opens the velvety black box and procures a delicate ring, not too large or too gaudy. I hold out my hand, shaking as he slides the gold band on my finger. It fits perfectly, and I bet that he confided in Rose about my size. As I hone in on the ring, I go quiet, stunned by the unique design. Rectangular diamonds form rays around a circular, yellow diamond.

  It’s the sun.

  And I’m speechless all over again. I keep nodding like this is perfect; this is really happening. I’m engaged to Ryke Meadows.

  He murmurs another “I love you” before kissing my cheek, then my lips. Mine swell beneath his. My body sings as his hands roam and settle on my hips, guiding me towards the fluffy comforter. My arms are draped around his neck, as though slow-dancing while he walks me backwards.

  Our lips never break, his tongue tangled with mine in a natural rhythm. Everything with Ryke feels that way. Natural. And in the woods, I pretend that we’re wild, primitive things. Alone in this world together.

  I smile against his lips, and then he lifts me up by the waist and sets me in the middle of the bed.

  He climbs on, our legs threaded, my blood hot and my hair in disarray. We stare at each other for a second, and I pulse simply by his intense gaze.

  “I have this theory,” I begin, and his smile returns.

  “Let’s hear it.” He spreads my legs wide with his knees, and then he rests his palms on either side of my head. My wolf is staring down at me.

  I prop myself on my elbows, nearing his face more. “Magical things happen in the woods.” The first time I truly enjoyed sex was my first time with Ryke—and it happened in the woods. Now this. I know it’s more about the person than the place, but I can’t deny the primal energy that surrounds us, which shouts jubilantly, we are alive!

  “I like it,” he says, lifting up my shirt. He goes halfway, revealing the bottoms of my small boobs. He pauses and raises his brows at me. “What the fuck were you wearing, Calloway?”

  I gape. “You don’t like my bra?” I’m not wearing one, of course. His brother lives in the same house with us, but Ryke doesn’t care if I go bra-less as long as I’m comfortable.

  He almost smiles and then removes my shirt, the air nipping my skin. His lips warm my nipple, kissing then sucking. Gently.

  I run my hands up the ridges of his abs and take off his shirt.

  He massages my other breast, and the sensitive bud hardens beneath his tongue. My hamstrings constrict.

  “Ryke…ahhh.” My cry turns into a sharp gasp. I hold onto his broad shoulders. While he pays attention to my nipples, he slides his jeans off, now only in black boxer-briefs. I kiss the base of his neck. A deep noise sticks to his throat, and then he hoists me in his strong arms.

  He steps off the bed with me pressed against his chest, and before I make sense of anything, my back meets rough bark of a tree. My pelvis is lined with Ryke’s. His hardness presses against my bikini bottoms.

  I’m dizzy; my nerve endings alight. “Ryke,” I moan his name, my voice needy, and my legs sway on either side of him, always in motion. Even if there’s nowhere to go.

  His hands are all over me. Mine are all over him, and his mouth trails my neck, my breastbone. His fingers slowly dip down my belly, diving beneath my bikini bottoms and to a bundle of nerves. As soon as he touches, I breathe rapidly, the build-up electrifying me whole.

  I cry out, lips parted, and I buck into him. He digs into me, rocking as though we’re making love now, even when two articles of clothing separate us. I slip my hand down his boxer-briefs, his toned ass flexing beneath my palm as he pushes forward.

  Oh God. Oh God.

  “Come on, sweetheart,” he whispers, encouraging me to reach this peak and let go completely. I hope to feel it. I want to be soaked. I want him inside of me.

  The way he touches me everywhere, the way the force of his body barrels into mine—it dizzies my head. I cry out again in pleasure. “Ryke!” His fingers slip deep into me, his thumb still massaging my clit. Mixed with his rocking, I begin to lose my bearings. I moan into his shoulder, gripping his back. “Ryke…” My high-pitched noise turns breathy. I tremble against him, and he moves harder, bark grinding into my shoulders.

  I raise my head in a daze, and he kisses me, his tongue slipping into my mouth the same time he thrusts forward. Sweat builds on us both, and I pulse and pulse.

  I come alive.

  As my back arches and my climax binds my legs, he frees his cock, stepping out of his boxer-briefs. He’s rock hard. He knows exactly what he wants and how to please me. He’s much older, my protector and my best friend. He’s my future and my happiness.

  He’s everything that I wasn’t sure he’d ever be, and I want him all, right now. Filling me. Loving me.

  I begin to pull off my bottoms, but he finishes undressing me. He moves away from the tree, rubbing my shoulders. He gives me a single look
that asks, you okay?

  I nod at him and kiss his reddened lips. He kisses back. With his hands firmly on my hips—with my body still hoisted around his waist—he masterfully lowers me onto his erection. So slowly that I feel every inch fill me.

  I moan halfway there, and he pauses, tormenting with his hardness. I look down, my hands tugging his hair. The image of him in me works its magic. I tense up, in the best way. My mouth opens and refuses to shut.

  He uses his insane upper-body strength to keep me upright, and I descend further and further onto his shaft, watching him disappear inside of me. I shake my head a couple times, the sensations overwhelming. “I can’t…”

  I can’t come again this fast. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t…it’s too—

  “Ryke, Ryke…ahhhh ohmygod,” I burst with a breathy cry, tears squeezing out of the corners of my eyes.

  “Fuck,” he grunts. He holds back so this lasts much, much longer, and he bounces me on his cock, building me up again.

  I struggle inhaling enough oxygen to my brain, light-headed and sublime. We end up back on the bed. He combs my hair out of my face, kisses me, and thrusts in a melodic, deep movement. “Fuck,” he says beside my ear. “Dais…”

  I love how this looks. Our naked bodies beneath the stars. My legs spread apart. Ryke between them. I love how this feels. Our pelvises grinding together, his hardness giving me pleasure. I love him most of all. His darkened, protective gaze. I latch onto him, my hips bucking up as he digs down, every inch gained between us.

  He pulls me swiftly, until we’re both upright. He does the work, pushing up into me while we kiss, and as I moan against his lips, I smile. He smiles too because this is it.

  Bliss.

  Happiness. I sense it all around me. For however fleeting it may be, I grasp it now. I hang on and I ride this moment out.

 

  RYKE MEADOWS

  Daisy rests her head on my chest, still for a brief moment, her long, bare legs tangled with mine beneath the white comforter. About two hours ago, I shut off the lights using a second switchbox near the air mattress—the stars more vivid without them.