Change Of Plans (New Adult BBW Romance) Read online

  “I’d like that.” Brendan smiled back, then reached over and gently grasped Callie’s wrist. “But put your wallet back. I’m paying for the pizza.”

  They left the warm, cozy pizza parlor and entered the beauty of Central Park, following the paved path as it wound around the lake. Birds were still twittering as they settled down for the night, flitting between the branches of trees whose leaves were just starting to turn color. The vibrant colors of the setting sun shimmered across the lake in hues of orange, purple and gold, making the water look like it was a rippling canvas.

  Going for a walk in Central Park after pizza had also been one of their traditions, Brendan remembered. In the early days of relationship they’d spent lots of time strolling through the park, hand in hand as they talked about hopes and dreams and possibilities for the future. He glanced down at Callie’s hand, the fingertips peeking out of her jacket sleeve, just a few inches from his own. If he moved his own hand just a little bit they would be touching…

  No, he told herself firmly. I’m not going to push it yet. Wait until she’s ready. They’d already made a lot of progress, much more than he’d expected considering that they hadn’t even signed the contract yet. He didn’t want to screw it up.

  “So what are your plans for the future now?” Callie asked. The chilly breeze tugged at a lock of her wavy brown hair, and she tucked it behind an ear, exposing a succulent-looking earlobe. He didn’t know why, but he’d always been crazy about her earlobes, always liked to tease them with her tongue and teeth as she writhed and whimpered in his arms. “I mean, did you really intend to come back and start writing romances?”

  Brendan chuckled, shaking his head. “I didn’t really have anything in mind, honestly. I just wanted to get the fuck away from everything for a while, just hunker down and try to heal. I found that writing about my issues helped clear my head space, and I did that for months, just doing yoga and reading books on philosophy and writing in journals.”

  Callie’s jaw dropped. “You, doing yoga? Shut up.”

  “It’s true, swear it on my mother’s grave,” he said, holding up his hands. It was a serious oath, both his parents having died when he was barely a teenager. “It helps ground me, plus it’s fucking great for strength and flexibility.”

  Callie laughed. “Yeah, I know that. I was telling you that all the time, back when I tried to get you to do it with me.”

  “Are you still practicing?”

  “Every morning.”

  “Maybe we should do it sometime,” he suggested. “You show me your tadasana and I’ll show you mine.”

  “Maybe,” Callie agreed, laughter in her voice and sparkling her eyes.

  They reached a small gazebo sitting by the water, and Brendan led Callie inside, hopping up the few steps and then reaching down to offer her a hand. She slipped her palm in his, and the slide of her soft skin against his sent a jolt through him that went straight to his cock.

  Damn, he thought. So this is what abstinence does. Never in his life had holding someone’s hand made him so damn horny.

  “Thanks,” Callie said softly, releasing his hand so she could settle herself down on one of the bench seats. They had a perfect view of the lake from here, which now reflected only a dull orange from the sky, the setting sun having disappeared from view. They stared out at the picturesque scene in silence for a few moments, their bodies close enough that Brendan could feel Callie’s body heat. Her unique fragrance surrounded him, making him draw even closer to her, until they were nearly touching.

  “So.” Callie broke the silence. “How did you segue from writing in your journal to writing romance?” She looked up at him, a playful smile on her lips. “And don’t tell me it was just because you wanted to get back into my pants. Nobody writes a book that good just so they can get some nookie.”

  Brendan grinned. “If you really believe that, then you don’t know just how far a man will go for sex with the right woman. But in all seriousness,” he said, his smile fading a little, “It started as a love letter… to you.”

  Callie’s eyes widened. “A love letter?”

  He nodded. “I found myself thinking of you a lot when I came back. Thinking of how I’d hurt you, how I’d tossed you aside to spare my own feelings because I felt that it would be inevitable that we’d break up because of my music career anyway.” He stared out at the lake, not seeing the water, but Callie’s tear-streaked face from the night he’d thrown her out of his life. Guilt twisted in his heart like a knife. Don’t get me wrong.” He looked her in the face, wanting her to see the truth in his eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t exactly celibate since we’ve been apart, but I found myself always comparing the women I was with to you, and they were always lacking in some way.”

  “No way,” Callie interrupted him, shaking her head slowly. “I’ve seen some of those bombshells you’ve been with over the years. There’s no way you could have possibly been thinking of me while you were with them.”

  “But I was.” He touched the side of her face then, his thumb rubbing gently along her cheekbone. “God help me, I knew I shouldn’t have been, that I had no right to think of you after the way I’d ended things, but I was,” he whispered. “I spent hours writing in my journals, trying to formulate what I would say to you, working to come up with the perfect letter that would worm its way past your defenses and into your heart. Somehow those letters ended up turning into stories about how our life should have been, about how I wanted things to be between us, and that’s where I got the idea to write a novel.”

  “So then, that story really is about us?” Callie whispered, her eyes shining in the darkness.

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t know,” she murmured, leaning into his hand a little as he continued to caress her face. His heart was pounding hard now, his jeans impossibly tight from his growing erection. It was almost too good to be true, that she was sitting here with him, letting her touch him. He didn’t want to break the spell, but he knew it couldn’t last forever. “The way your characters… Mikaela and Andre… were, we were never that way, with that level of intimacy.”

  “We could be, though.” He slid his hand down to cup the back of her neck, tilting her head back and exposing the milky column of her throat, then lowered his head to press his lips against the pulse point fluttering near the hollow of her throat. “If you’d give it a chance.”

  Callie gasped, her hands fluttering to rest against his shoulders. “I could take you right here,” he whispered wickedly against her skin, sliding a hand beneath her jacket to toy with the hem of her white turtleneck. “Bent over the bench, your hands braced against the railing as I fuck you slowly from behind.” His voice grew rough as he imagined it, her bare as milky in the moonlight as he slowly slipped in and out of her tight entrance.

  “H-here?” Callie stammered, and though fear tinged her voice, there was excitement too. “But people could see us. Just walk right by.”

  “Isn’t that the fun of it, though?” He flicked his tongue out, tasting salt and heat and sweetness against her skin, and Callie shuddered. “The fear of being found out adds a whole new edge to the experience.” His fingers did slide beneath her shirt then, reaching up to cup her firm breast. He found her nipple easily, and was rewarded with a gasp as he rolled it back and forth between his thumb and forefinger.

  “I don’t know…” Callie moaned, her fingers tightening on his shoulders. “It just seems so…”

  “Naughty?” he suggested, tweaking her nipple a little more firmly. She let out a squeak, jerking in his arms. “Shhh,” he soothed, lifting his head to see that her face was flushed, her eyes heavy lidded. “Don’t think too much. Just feel.”

  He kissed her then, just a light press of the lips, once, twice, three times. His hand remained on her breast, toying with her nipple, and she scooted closer until their bodies were pressing together. He felt her smile, and then she gasped again as he took her bottom lip into his mouth and suckled gently. She
tasted like oranges and mint, likely from the chewing gum she was so fond of, and something sweeter, unique to her. Oh, how he’d missed the taste of her lips…

  In the span of two seconds, the tone of the kiss changed from sweet to possessive. Suddenly her tongue was sliding against his, engaging him in an oral battle for domination. He pushed back, tangling with her, then let out a gasp of his own as her hand slid between his legs to squeeze his erection through his pants. She began massaging him through the denim, and he thought he was going to lose his mind, that he might come right then and there.

  Can’t have that, he thought, so he did the only thing he could think of to stop her, hauling her up off the bench and plopping her down so that she straddled his waist, all without breaking the kiss. That turned out to be a mistake, as she simply switched tactics, undulating her hips so that she was grinding against him.

  “You’re a bad girl,” he whispered hoarsely, and she rewarded him with a throaty chuckle.

  “Hello?” A flashlight suddenly burst into light, blinding Brendan. “Is anyone there?”

  Callie was off him in a flash, scrambling back onto the bench. “Yes!” she called, sounding more than a little flustered. “We’re just… enjoying the scenery,” she finished, a little lamely. A snicker escaped Brendan’s mouth before he could help himself, and he hastily turned it into a cough.

  “I see.” The light lowered, revealing a portly man with glasses wearing reflective gear and running sweats. He glared at them suspiciously, clearly not buying their story, but too polite to call them out on it directly. “Well, just so long as you understand the park rules.”

  “Of course,” Brendan said smoothly, getting to his feet. “We just came here to enjoy the scenery.”

  “Yes,” Callie chimed in. “In fact, we’re leaving now.” She tugged at Brendan’s hand, and he dutifully followed her down the steps back onto the path.

  “Be careful!” the man called after them. “Running in the dark without reflective strips can be dangerous!”

  “Yeah, sure thing!” They ran on, nearly dissolving in laughter as they raced each other to the exit.

  Chapter Seven

  “So, can I come up with you?” Brendan asked as they pulled up to Callie’s apartment building. They were both still smiling about the incident, and Callie didn’t know about Brendan, but her heart was still beating a little faster than normal.

  What they’d done in the park… she knew it was tame by most people’s standards, but she’d never done anything like it before. Never fondled a man in a public place, nor allowed one to do the same to her. The feeling of his hand on her breast, fondling her nipple, had been electrifying, and the way he’d kissed her…

  Maybe she should deny him, but the truth was, she wanted more of that. And she wanted it now.

  “Yes,” she said. “You can come up.”

  They’d barely made it into the elevator before he suddenly turned, pushing her up against the elevator and kissing her brainless. His hands were in her hair, his tongue in her mouth sliding sensuously against her own, and she could feel the hard steel of his erection pressing into her belly. Oh yes. This is what she’d been missing, what she’d been searching for in each romance novel submission that came across her desk, and she’d was finally starting to find it, here with him.

  The elevator dinged, but Brendan only grabbed her leg and hooked it around her waist, grinding himself against her core as he continued kissing her senseless. “Bedroom,” she managed to gasp against his mouth. “We need to make it to the bedroom.”

  Reluctantly he broke the kiss, and she grabbed his hand, hurrying out of the elevator and toward her apartment before the doors could close. Fumbling with her keys, it took three tries to get the right one into the lock, and once she did, the door barely swung open before Brendan scooped her up and over the threshold, his mouth covering hers again.

  “Second door on the left,” she murmured between kisses, barely registering her surroundings as he walked through her living room and down the hall where her home office and bedroom awaited.

  Somehow they made it to the bed in a tangle of limbs and clothing, their mouths fused as if their lives depended on it. His tongue pistoned in and out of her mouth, a promise of what was to come later, and she felt one of his hands as they popped the button open on her jeans and then slid beneath the waistband of her panties to cup her mound.

  “Ooooh.” She arched her back, breaking the kiss as she pressed her cleft more firmly against his questing fingers.

  “Yeah?” He stroked her gently, torturously, his fingers gliding across her slick wetness. “You like that?” he growled in her ear.

  The words reminded her of a scene from his book, and she paused, pulling back from him. “Wait.”

  “What?” Brendan frowned.

  “You…” she hesitated, her cheeks flaming at what she was about to suggest, but she pushed forward. “Do you remember that scene you wrote, the one with the handcuffs and the ice cubes?”

  “Hell yeah,” he said, tonguing her earlobe. “Why, what about it? Does it need some editing?”

  “No…” Callie giggled. “Do you think we could maybe do something similar?”

  His eyes lit as he gave her a wicked grin. “We could probably figure out something,” he said. “I don’t suppose you have any handcuffs on you, since I didn’t bring mine?”

  “No, but there’s some rope in my craft box that could work.” She gave him a shy smile. “It’s in the hall closet.”

  “I’ll be right back.” He hopped off the bed, then turned and gave her a hot once over. “Lose the clothes by the time I come back.”

  Taking a deep breath, Callie swung her legs over the bed so she could pull her jeans off. She let them pool on the floor, not bothering to toss them in the laundry basket peeking out of her closet, then pulled her sweater over her head, leaving her in nothing but her lacy white boy shorts and matching bra. Glancing up at her mirrored closet door, she gazed at her reflection, noting her mussed hair, flushed cheeks and swollen lips. She looked sexy, wanton, like a woman who was ready to be ravished, and it made her feel powerful. But was she really ready for this? Was she ready to give herself up to Brendan, even for just a night, to see how things could be between them?

  “Need a little help?”

  She whipped her head around to see Brendan leaning against the door jamb. He’d lost the shirt and jacket, revealing his full upper body in all its glory, and she couldn’t help but stare. Her eyes moved over his muscular shoulders, his toned pecs, down to his rippling abs that were dusted with a dark line of hair that disappeared beneath his low-slung jeans. She swallowed hard, wanting to nibble at the v-cut muscles that peeked out from the waistline of his pants, wanting to drag the offending denim lower until she could reveal the bulge that was clearly straining against his zipper.

  “Yeah.” She licked her suddenly dry lips, then offered him a smile to try and hide her nervousness. “I could use a little help.” Turning, she presented her back to him, a clear invitation for him to unfasten her bra.

  She heard him move behind her as he set something down on the dresser by the foot of the bed, then felt the bed dip as he settled his weight behind her. His hands came around her shoulders then, and suddenly a black cloth was covering her eyes. “A little something extra,” he murmured. “Just to keep you on your toes.” His warm, wet tongue suddenly flicked along the back of her earlobe, causing goose bumps to crop up on her arms, and she shivered.

  “Okay,” she said, feeling suddenly breathless. I can do this. She sucked in a slow breath as she felt his touch against her back, then the sagging of material against her skin as her bra was unclasped. His glided down her arms as he pushed her bra straps off, and she heard a small clatter that told her he’d dropped the garment down onto the floor.

  “Now,” he murmured in her ear, sliding his hands up her abdomen to stroke the undersides of her breasts. His fingers left a trail of wildfire blazing across her skin, igniting
her nerves, and she was sure a flush had spread all over her skin where he’d touched her and stamped itself across her cheekbones. “There are a few very simple rules to this game we are about to play, so listen carefully. Rule Number One: Don’t speak unless you’re spoken to.” He tweaked her left nipple, and she cried out. “You’re allowed to make sounds, of course, just no actual words,” he clarified, his voice dark and husky. “Rule Number Two: When you do speak to me, you must always say my name. And Rule Number Three: When I give you an order, you must follow it.”

  “What happens if I don’t?”

  Brendan cracked his palm against her left ass cheek, and she cried out at the stinging pain. “Every time you break one of those rules, I spank you,” he growled. “The only exception is that if I’m doing something that hurts you or freaks you out or makes you too uncomfortable, you can speak. Just use the safe word ‘playtime’s over’, and I’ll stop.” He stroked her ass cheek gently, soothing the burn that still lingered there. “Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” she breathed, then yelped as he spanked her again.

  “What was that?” His dark tone cut through the fog of lust and anticipation in her brain.

  Oh, right, she thought. The rules. “Yes, Brendan,” she tried again.

  “Good girl,” he purred in approval. “Now lie back and spread your legs for me.”

  She did ask he asked, reclining so that her head rested against the thick, soft pillows she’d arranged at the base of her headboard just this morning. Who knew that when she finally returned to bed tonight, that it would be like this? A bead of sweat trickled down the side of her neck as she felt his fingers grasp the waistband of her boy shorts, tugging the lacy scrap of fabric down her hips, and she trembled in anticipation.

  “Mmm.” He pressed his lips against her skin, then flicked his tongue against her inner thigh, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to her dripping pussy. “You taste like coconut.”