Chapter 17 — Calisto

Calisto glanced up from the confirmatory text message he had gotten, explaining that the enforcer who had been watching Emma was thoroughly distracted and out of the store. He’d been waiting for this morning for a long while—two and a half months, actually.

Careful preparations.

Quick escape routes.

Plan Bs, and Cs, if needed.

Backtracking and self-doubt until he was satisfied with his choices.

Today should have been perfect. Had everything gone according to plan, it should have went off without a single bump in the road.

And yet, something was wrong.

Something was missing.

His son wasn’t in Emma’s arms when she flung open that dressing room door.

Calisto thought for sure that she would have baby Cross with her, as he was still young, and whenever he had been watching her over these last couple of months, she always had his son with her. When he had gotten word from Wolf—the one and only person he truly trusted in the Donati family—that Emma was out with her enforcer, the man forgot to mention the baby wasn’t with her.

This had been his one shot.

The one chance he had to get Emma and his son away from Affonso before Calisto rained hell down on him. He’d hoped to take them without issue, keep them safely hidden away, and then bring them back out when the threats were finally gone.

“Cal?” Emma whispered.

Calisto lifted his gaze to meet hers, and a look of pure astonishment colored up her beautiful features. Just like he thought, that red dress he’d picked off the rack as he came into the store fit her like a glove. She was still so beautiful to him. As he stared at her, feeling the waves of her surprise practically wafting from her, there were a lot of things running through his mind. All of the things he had wanted to say.

That he loved her.

He wanted to thank her for his son.

She should know he was sorry for forgetting her.

And maybe he wanted her to know that he was fixing it—all of it.

Or trying to.

Instead, Calisto smiled. “Emma.”

Whatever hesitation she must have felt was gone as she opened the dressing room door the rest of the way and flew into his embrace. Calisto’s back was to the wall, but he still wasn’t ready for the impact of her body slamming against his. Her hands found his face, grabbing tight and forcing him to look at her.

Emma didn’t move.

She just … watched him.

“You remember, don’t you?” she asked.

The obvious answer was “yes”.

Calisto went with something different. “I’m sorry I ever forgot you at all, Emmy.”

He swore he watched months of heartache, silence, and pain fall off her shoulders with his words. Her gaze, once a fiery green, had been dulled the past few months, but brightened instantly. Her smile grew wide, matching his.

Calisto felt better than he had in a long while, and all it took, was this woman in his arms. From the very second he’d remembered all of the things that he had forgotten, his mind focused in on one thing above the rest—Emma. He could only imagine how lonely she must have felt.

Scared.

Desolate.

Caged.

There had been a brief period where he fought with his anger where she was concerned. He thought if only she had told him the truth—taken him aside during the many times he asked her if there was something he was missing.

But then he quickly thought of the bullets that nearly killed him.

And the man who probably tried to do it.

Affonso.

Calisto wasn’t angry at all.

Not with Emma.

He suspected she had done what she needed to.

How could he blame her for that?

“I missed you,” Emma said softly.

Calisto caught the one tear that fell from the corner of her eye with the pad of his thumb. “I never really went anywhere. I was always around.”

“But you weren’t at the same time.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” she replied. “Where have you been?”

Calisto tilted his head to the side, smiling slyly. “Around. Watching. Planning.”

“Planning?”

He lifted one hand, gesturing at them. “Planning, Emma.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know.”

He didn’t really need her to, not right then.

Calisto tipped Emma’s head up and quickly dropped his head to press a soft kiss to her mouth. He’d thought about kissing her, touching her, holding and having her every single day. Nothing really prepared him for the shock of love that flooded his system when her lips parted for his without question, and her tongue struck against his hard, letting him deepen the kiss until his lungs burned with the need for air.

Even then, he didn’t stop.

He didn’t think about the customers that were walking in and out of the dressing room as he tangled his hand into the strands of her hair. All he could feel were her soft lips and the heat of her mouth pressed to his.

No, he just kissed her until the streaks of her tears hit the corner of his mouth, and he was forced to pull away so he could wipe them away again.

“Ti amo, Emma—I always loved you, even when I couldn’t remember you,” he told her.

Emma blinked away the tears coating her lashes. “I knew you did. I was just waiting for you to remember, too.”

Calisto glanced to the side, knowing they didn’t have much time. “We have to go—at least get out of the store. After that, we’ll be clear.”

“The red dress?”

“He’s not going to be looking for red, you know.”

Emma shook her head, smiling slightly. “Why today?”

“It was the right time.”

Except it wasn’t.

Something was still missing.

“Where is my son?” Calisto asked.

Emma stilled, almost like she hadn’t expected him to say that. She didn’t answer, either.

“I was starting to figure it out before I got my memories back,” he explained when she stayed silent, “but I knew for sure after. The math wasn’t all that hard to do, for one thing.”

“I was scared,” she whispered. “Affonso knew—he would have killed me had it been any other man’s child. He almost did the night he found out.”

Rage skipped over Calisto’s body.

He pushed it back down.

Not yet, he told himself. That will come.

“Where is Cross?” he asked again.

Though, he was pretty sure he knew.

“At home with Affonso and Sherry. He wanted me to go out and get some new clothes, but he wouldn’t let me take the baby today. He uses him to scare me sometimes—manipulate me—that’s all it is.”

Calisto was going to ask her to explain that a little more, but his phone dinged with an incoming message. Checking the device, he decided his questions would have to wait.

“Come on,” he said, twining their fingers together.

Emma didn’t hesitate to follow as he led her from the dressing rooms, and out of the store. He was careful not to look back at the enforcer he knew was coming their way, but would probably pass the woman in the red dress by without so much as a second glance.

“Where are we going?” Emma asked.

Earlier, he’d had a clear answer to that.

Now, he wasn’t so sure.

“Somewhere to talk,” he decided on saying.

Somewhere he could think …

*

The hotel Calisto had been using as a safe-house of sorts wasn’t actually all that far away from the mall he had tracked Emma to. It was only a few blocks away, which at first, he thought would make things easier.

Once he had Emma safely inside the confines of the room, Calisto paced the length of the floor, needing to get his thoughts in order.

Things should have been perfect.

One of two isn’t bad.

Except the second person he should have had with him was his son.

Fuck.

Calisto froze on the spot when he noticed Emma standing in the middle of the hotel room, staring at the tiny bassinet in front of the large windows overlooking the busy street. She looked over the other items resting on the table—anything his child might have needed for a week or two stay with his mother in this very room.

“You thought I would have Cross,” she said quietly.

He didn’t want her to worry. That was the last thing either of them needed. He could worry enough for the both of them without her adding to it.

“I’ll have him soon enough,” Calisto said. “It was just a minor bump in the plans.”

Emma spun on her heel. “But you thought I would have him today, didn’t you? That’s why you asked me where he was.”

Calisto swallowed hard, knowing Emma wasn’t going to let up unless he gave her the truth. “Yes, I did. I wanted to have you both safely hidden away for however long I needed until this was over.”

“And what is this exactly?”

No, he wasn’t going to lie.

“Affonso, that’s what.”

Emma didn’t even bat a lash. “I didn’t want to leave him—I haven’t left Cross alone at all since he was born.”

“I know, and what I don’t know, I’ve been informed.”

“By … Wolf,” Emma said.

Calisto nodded, offering nothing more. The less she was involved in his plans, the better. For now, anyway. Wolf, however, was just one of the allies Calisto was using to get what he wanted, and to do what needed to be done.

“But you’re here, and I’ll rest a bit easier knowing that you’re safe at least,” Calisto explained. “I hoped to have Cross here as well. It would have made it a lot quicker to finish this all out, but I’ll handle it.”

Emma’s brow furrowed before she said, “No.”

“What?”

“You can’t … You think I’m going to stay here without our son?” she asked.

Tension climbed over Calisto’s shoulders at the heat in her tone. “I know you’ll be a hell of a lot safer here than you would be—”

“Absolutely not,” Emma interrupted quickly, a fire in her eyes. “He’ll take him from me if I don’t go back home tonight with a damn good excuse about where I was today—do you understand that, Calisto? He will take Cross from me like he’s promised to do from the very beginning.”

“Emma—”

“Or worse, he’ll kill him. A dead son is better than no son at all, right? That’s what he would tell your mother. And that’s exactly what he’s been telling me. Do not ask me to leave our son with him knowing what he might do to him.”

Calisto let out a slow breath, willing his emotions to calm. He’d waited months to approach Emma at a time when he knew was safe for them both, and he didn’t want to fight with her.

Love her.

Touch her.

Taste her.

Hold her.

Anything but fight with her.

He missed this woman more than he could explain. For almost a year, he had felt like he was lost in some sort of haze, all the while knowing that he was without something important, even if he didn’t know exactly what it was.

She had been that important thing.

Calisto loved her.

Entirely.

Wholly.

Crazily.

He loved her.

How he had forgotten the one soul made for his, he didn’t know.

“I will figure it out,” Calisto said, taking a step toward her. “I will get Cross to you—to us—the very second I can.”

Emma opened her mouth to say something, but he beat her to the punch.

“I will, Emmy. I promise.”

“You don’t seem to understand, Calisto,” Emma said as his palm came up to cup her jaw with a gentle touch. “This isn’t a question—there is no choice here, and you can’t make me stay based on a promise.”

“I wouldn’t let anything happen to our son.”

“I’ve been his only one, Cal!”

Calisto quieted, surprised by her outburst.

Emma squeezed his wrist, stepping closer as she said, “I have been the only person loving and protecting that little boy from the moment I knew I was pregnant with him. He only had me, just me. You didn’t even know I was pregnant before the accident, but I was still left alone to keep him safe. You can’t snap your fingers and make that disappear for me, Calisto. Don’t ask me to sit and wait. Not for my baby.”

“Mine, too,” he said softly.

“Please.”

The idea of allowing Emma to go back into what he considered a dangerous situation was out of the question for Calisto. He didn’t even want to consider it.

But he knew Emma, too.

She seemed compliant from afar.

Sweet, even.

Fragile, maybe.

The woman was stronger than anyone knew. She had strength that was built upon by years of feeling alone. She had fire in her soul.

And he loved that.

It wasn’t such a surprise to him that Emma refused to leave Cross behind, even for a short time with the knowledge that he would be brought to her as soon as possible—and safely. She was their son’s one person to count on, to love and comfort him. When his father hadn’t even known him, he had his mother.

She wouldn’t leave Cross behind.

Not like she had been.

“Emma, just consider—”

“I can’t,” she interrupted quietly. “Please understand why, Cal.”

It would make things a great deal harder—maybe even more dangerous. He would have to rethink, and plan all over again. It would be like starting over at square one.

“I do understand,” he finally said.

Calisto dropped his hand from her face, unsure of where to go next. Emma must have not liked that he let her go, because she was back in his arms before he’d even blinked once. In that one second, as her arms linked around his neck her hands tangled into his hair, and he swallowed her in a hug, time ceased to exist. The world stopped moving.

All was almost right.

He needed his child, too.

For now, with Emma in his arms, this was as close to perfect as he was going to get.

“I don’t want you to go back,” he murmured into her hair. “I want to keep you safe, like I should have been doing for all these months. I’m sorry you were alone again—you should never be alone when someone loves you.”

Her lips pressed feather-light to his neck, making heat dance over his skin. It was hard to ignore the way the heat traveled lower instantly, and the way he could feel her soft curves molding perfectly against his.

It’d been too long for him and her.

Far too long.

Memories had sustained his need for a short while—that wasn’t going to last much longer for Calisto. Not when he had Emma close, even if for a short while.

“I wasn’t alone—I had Cross.”

Calisto’s gaze was drawn to the soft arch of Emma’s lips, and then she was raising up on her tiptoes to press a quick, searing kiss to his lips. She tried to pull away, but he refused to let her go, dominating the kiss until she was tipping her head back and gasping for air.

He didn’t mind.

That just let him kiss down the delicate column of her throat, feeling her swallow and her muscles work under his licks and nips.

“I missed you, Cal.”

“You’re going to stay,” Calisto whispered against her skin. “At least for a little while—give me that, Emma. You want it, too, don’t you? Haven’t you missed this, too?”

She shivered, and he took that in like a drug straight to his vein.

“God, yes.”

That was the only confirmation he needed. He took care not to damage the red dress with the tag still tucked inside as he pulled it off her body. Calisto’s gaze swept her form, taking in the curves and skin he’d been without for far too long. Emma let him explore with his mouth and hands as he walked her back to the bed.

“Leave the heels on,” he said.

Emma grinned. “Yeah?”

“You’re going to need the extra couple of inches.”

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip. “Oh?”

Calisto took another step forward, crowding Emma at the footboard of the bed. She couldn’t move further as he leaned over her, taking her mouth with his own in another long, hot kiss.

“Fuck,” she mumbled against his mouth. “I did miss this.”

“He doesn’t … touch you … does he?”

Calisto had asked the question quietly, but his fingers clamped onto her hips and held tight. She was his, and the thought of her being touched by another man, even if that man was her husband, pissed him off like he couldn’t explain.

Emma’s fingers slid under his jaw, and Calisto met her gaze. “No.”

“Never?”

That was a surprise.

“He has women for that, and I am, as he always believed I was, useless to him. A whore, now. Nothing else.”

Calisto frowned, his jaw working out his agitation. “You know that’s not true.”

“I know that I don’t care, not right now. I just want you—all of you, as hard and as fast as you can give me it, Cal. That’s what I want. Please.”

His darker urges thrummed deep.

“You don’t want me to lay you back and worship you like you deserve, Emma?”

She didn’t even bat a lash. “I know you love me—I know you worship me, Cal. I just want you to fuck me.”

Jesus.

Shit, yeah.

“All right,” he said gruffly.

He stole another kiss from her pretty lips, feeling her hands work at the buttons on his dress shirt and the zipper on his pants. He let her push his shirt down his arms until it fell to the floor, and then she was shoving his pants down, too.

The second her palm wrapped around his cock in a tight, firm grip, he stilled, enjoying her touch and how soft her hand was despite how badly his dick ached. He couldn’t let her do this for long, he couldn’t take it. As much as it felt like heaven, it hurt, too.

He just wanted to fuck.

“Ass up,” he said thickly.

Emma’s hand stopped moving. “What?”

She didn’t even get a chance to take a breath before he had her flipped over, and he pinned her upper half against the bed. Running his fingers down her backside, and to her sex, he found her wet and hot against his touch.

“I want your ass up,” he said.

Emma sucked in a quick gulp of air, letting it hiss out slowly between her teeth as his fingers pushed into her sex, taking her fast like that. She squirmed under his hold, a long moan breaking free from her chest.

“Another time,” she said between clenched teeth.

Yeah, he agreed.

He’d tease and touch all he wanted another time.

Surely it would come.

He’d make sure of it.

Calisto replaced his fingers with the head of his cock, letting the tip press just far enough into the entrance of her slit that she could feel him beginning to stretch her open. The sliver of her sex glistened with her fluids, and the heat of her pink flesh wrapped him with a dark promise.

He gave no warning, simply flexed his hips and took her deep.

The force of the thrust sent her up on her toes in the heels, and her hands flying out to find purchase against the bed. Calisto didn’t give her relief to become accustomed to his length or girth, and she didn’t ask for it.

“Again—more,” Emma begged.

Fuck, yes.

“Whatever you need, bella.”

He wanted to fuck her longer—deeper and harder. Fuck her until every single one of her sounds were forever imprinted on his memories. Until the feel of her skin was painted on his own flesh. Until the sights of her under him, over him, beside him, were the only things he could see when he closed his eyes. He wanted to taste her on his tongue every time he took a drink. He wanted to smell her in the air all around him.

He never wanted to forget her again.

He shouldn’t have forgotten her in the first place.

So, he did.

Fucked her harder, to the point that his own muscles ached and protested.

Fucked her until her cries came out hoarse and broken.

Fucked her with his hands on her throat, buried in her hair, and raking down her skin.

He sucked her fingers clean after she toyed with her clit while he fucked her from behind and she was bent over the footboard. He buried two of his fingers knuckle deep into her ass when she begged for more, just to make her scream louder when she came the first time.

And when she came that first time, Calisto swore he saw fucking God in her face.

It was heaven for him.

A blissfully sinful, familiar heaven.

Breathless, soft, needy sounds crawled from her throat with every stroke of his cock inside her clenching, wet pussy. Every drag made his muscles tighten a little more, and his breaths came out feeling thicker.

Her whispers were everything that haunted his dreams when she wasn’t there.

There, Cal and Like that, just like that.

Make it hurt and Fuck me raw.

Calisto almost wished their first time together after so long was a little slower, a bit softer between them. He wondered if taking his time would have made a difference, but he doubted it.

He couldn’t control the need burrowing deep into his very soul to fill her full, hold her down, and make her scream. Because that’s what Emma liked—that’s what he needed.

They could do soft and slow another time.

There would be more—he’d make sure of it.

Calisto released the hold he had on Emma’s hair, instead grabbing the back of her neck and keeping her pinned down to the bed. He knew every punishing thrust was sending her thighs straight into the hard metal of the footboard, but her profile was a mask of pleasure. His other hand palmed her ass, and he grabbed tight, spreading her open a little more.

He loved the sight beneath him.

Her pink folds—wet and hot.

His cock—bare and slick.

She twisted and shuddered under him when he teased the tight hole of her ass with the tip of his finger again.

“This is all mine,” he told her, a tremor rocking through his words. “Your pussy, your ass, your mouth, and your body. I fuck you like this—nobody else. You shake for me, baby. You get wet for me. You beg me. It is mine, Emma. It has always been mine.”

“Y-yours,” she breathed.

Calisto sucked in a hard breath when Emma glanced over her shoulder at him, and he felt the tremors of her second orgasm begin to hug his shaft with every thrust. Usually he slowed their fucking down a bit when she came, wanting to savor every last sensation of her walls contracting around his cock. But this time … this time he picked up the pace, making sure to keep that steady, hard rhythm going as she grabbed a fistful of the bedsheets and shouted his name.

He let the constricting waves of her orgasm milk him harder and deeper into her heat.

That was all he felt.

He only heard them, and her.

His senses focused on them, and nothing else.

The whole while, she watched him over her shoulder.

“God, Cal,” she mumbled, eyed heavy-lidded and watery. “Come on, Cal—come. I want to feel you come. I need it.”

The thin line of control keeping Calisto contained snapped.

Just like that.

He squeezed the back of her neck harder, his thrusts turning even more brutal. Emma begged him again, her lips wet and bitten red. She sighed sweet and pleased when he painted her back with his semen, and groaned her name in a husky breath.

His memories hadn’t done her justice.

Not at all.