Dirty South (A Blue Collar Bad Boy Romance) (8 page)

Chapter Fourteen

Callie

"You still annoyed with me?" my father asks from
the head of the table.

"Hm? No," I reply, realizing I'd been staring off,
lost in my own thoughts, for who knows how long.

"You and Boone both," he mutters under his breath.
Did I hear him right?

"What about Boone? Boone Tillman, you mean?"

"Of course, Boone Tillman. He was in some kind of mood
today, then he left after our meeting without even letting me know."

"Oh. Boone was at your meeting today?" I ask, my
mind whirling.

"He wants to meet you at some point, by the way. Maybe
after you two have gotten over your little snits," he pouts.

I want to argue that he's the one who seems to be in a mood,
but I hold my tongue. "I'll take your plate to the kitchen if you're
done," I say, and clear the table as he nods.

Back up in my bedroom, I chew on my cuticles as I stare at
my cell phone's black screen. I haven't been able to stop thinking about Boone
since this weekend, but I don't want to come on too strong. My father's report
about his mood has me wondering, though. Could he be missing me, too?

I can't resist the itch. I slide my phone open and dial his
number. I sit up and nervously play with my blanket as his phone rings. I hear
him answer with a click and open my mouth to say hello, but there's an
immediate dial tone.

That's odd. I could have sworn he answered, but maybe he
pressed the wrong button or something. Smartphones can be tricky. I wait a
moment to see if he'll call back, then decide to try him again.

The phone rings, and again I hear him pick up. "Hey,
Boone," I say.

"Don't contact me again. I know about you and
Mason," he growls.

My heart jumps into my throat as he hangs up.
Shit
. I
didn't consider that he would find out on his own. Could he have seen a picture
of me in my dad's office? Or maybe my dad called me by my first name for once?

Tears begin to well up in my eyes. I can't have that be my
last contact with Boone. I just can't. The idea of never seeing him again is
causing an untenable longing to build up inside my very bones.

I stand up and grab my purse and car keys. No time to walk
over. I know I'm not thinking rationally, but I at least need to explain myself
to Boone. Explain that I didn't mean to lie about who my dad is, but that
everything just sort of got away from me.

I hurry down the steps, and spot my dad in the parlor with
his whiskey. "I'm going to see Lynn for a bit," I tell him.

"Alright," he says, with an offhanded wave.

In my hurry to get over to Boone's house, I make a wrong
turn. It feels like it adds another hour onto the trip, though the dashboard
clock is telling me it all takes only five minutes. As I glance at Boone's
house lights when I pull up, I realize I've made a mistake. They're all off. I
chew my lip. Well, there's one other place I know he could be.

I head downtown, trying to remember the way to my dad's
office. Luckily Savannah's not too large. I find a spot about a half a block
away from the building that houses Woodall & Sons, and do a truly terrible
job of parallel parking. I pull a card out of my wallet that my dad gave me to
get into the building in case I ever wanted to visit him at work, and swipe it
at the entrance. I press the button for the top floor in the elevator, and
nervously run my fingers through my hair and take a deep breath. I don't want
to look as frantic as I feel.

As the doors ding open, I step out and glance around. The
reception desk is empty, and the offices behind it are dark. I swipe my card
again at a glass door and walk through, feeling like I'm trespassing. I spot my
dad's large office in one corner, and from the opposite side of the floor, a
soft glow coming from under a closed door.

I walk quietly over, around piles of construction plans and
sleeping computers. I stop at the door, and see Boone's name on the plaque
outside it. I press my ear to the door, and can just hear the sound of typing
on the other side of it.

I better do this before I lose my nerve. I put my hand on
the knob and turn. My stomach jumps as Boone looks up from his desk at me. He
frowns and stands up so quickly that his chair almost tips over backward. I
quickly step inside and close the door behind me, as though that will somehow
prevent him from throwing me out.

"Just let me explain," I say quickly.

"How did you even get in here?" he snaps, then
sneers. "Of course, he gave you a key card. How convenient."

"Well, he wanted me to be able to visit," I say
defensively.

"I'm sure he did."

I'm a little thrown off, but I barrel ahead. "I
understand if you don't want to see me again, but I just wanted to explain. And
apologize."

"
If
I don't want to see you again?" he
repeats, sounding shocked. "What kind of man do you think I am?"

"It just all happened so quickly. When I saw you at the
party, and then at Upland... I was going to tell you who I was, but I was
afraid, well, I was afraid of this happening. And I just wanted a chance to get
to know you."

"Don't you care how Mason feels at all?"

"Of course! And I know he'd be furious." I blink
back tears. I can tell by the way Boone is looking at me that I don't have a
chance with him anymore. "I'm sorry. I never meant to lie to you." I
turn to leave, then pause. "It's silly, but ever since that first time you
had dinner at our house, I felt a connection with you. Well, I was wrong then,
and I guess I was wrong now, too."

I'm halfway out the door when he speaks. "Wait, what?
When did I have dinner at your house? You and Mason live together?"

I turn back and stare at him for a moment. "Well, yeah.
I mean, since I graduated, and when I was young, of course. Before I went to
live with my mom."

"With your mom," he echoes, a blank look on his
face. "I don't understand."

"You don't remember, I guess," I say, feeling
disappointed. "It was the night you pitched my dad your ideas for Woodall
& Sons. We all had dinner together, and then—"

"Your
dad?!
" he exclaims, a look of utter
bewilderment crossing his face. "No, no, Mason's daughter's name is
Grace."

"He calls me by my middle name. Callie Grace Woodall.
Wait, you knew that, though. That's why you're mad at me, for lying about my
dad," I say, his bewilderment now becoming mine.

"I... I thought you and Mason were seeing each other. I
overheard you two talking at Upland, and I could hear that you knew each other,
so I assumed—"

"You thought he was my
boyfriend
?! Ew!
Gross!" I exclaim. "He's my
father
!"

"Well, I know that now!" he retorts, then
practically collapses back into his chair. "You're Grace. I can't believe
it. Grace Woodall. Callie Grace Woodall. That was you? At that dinner? What was
that, seven years ago?" he says, squinting at me, as though trying to
shape me into his memory.

I walk forward, sitting in a chair across from him with some
trepidation. "Yes. You remember?"

"Well, I remember someone."

Chapter Fifteen

We stare at each other across the desk for a moment, as the
truth settles around us. "You look different," he finally says,
leaning forward.

"No braces anymore. And corrective eye surgery," I
murmur.

"Not just that," he says. "I remember that
dinner well. Or at least I thought I did. So you're Mason's daughter. The one
who spoke up for me. I've been wanting to meet you since you got back from
college so I could thank you."

"Well, surprise! Here I am," I say wryly.

"I don't think I'd be where I am if it weren't for
you," he says seriously.

"Mm," I murmur.

"What?"

"Do you remember what happened right after the
dinner?"

"Mason and I went into his study and I told him my
ideas."

"And then?"

"And then? I don't know... I think I ended up at a bar
that night, celebrating."

"But before that, you walked out of the house and
called someone. I heard you," I press him. If we're finally being honest
with each other, I want to get everything out on the table.

"Oh..." he says, looking away and seeming to
replay the night in his mind. "I think it was this girl I was seeing at
the time. Yeah, she was pretty convinced my plan wouldn't work."

"You... you told her I was just some awkward teenage
girl," I say quietly. "I could hear you from my window." The
edges of his mouth turn up slightly and I glare at him. "It's not
funny!"

"I'm sorry," he says, holding up his hands.
"Well, first of all, I remember that girl as being very jealous, so I
always had to play down any other woman I met. And secondly, you were sort of
awkward," he adds apologetically. "But what does it matter?" he
asks as I gasp. "Look at you now!"

"It mattered! It mattered a lot, alright? I was being
bullied a lot at school, and I had this big crush on you—"

"On me? Just from that night?"

"No. Shit," I swear, covering my flaming cheeks
with my hands. "I didn't mean to say that."

"What? Tell me," he demands, coming around the
desk and sitting on the edge of it right in front of me.

"It's so embarrassing," I groan, but he waits,
silently. I sigh. "I had sort of seen you at my dad's construction site a
while before that. And I used to, you know, go by there after school."

"To watch me?" he asks. I look up to see a wide
grin on his face.

"I was
fifteen
," I remind him. "What
can I say? You looked good in a pair of Wranglers," I mutter, leaning back
in the chair and folding my arms over my chest.

"You were fifteen," he repeats. "And right
after that you went to live with your mother?" I nod. "Well, I'm
sorry. For what I said. Especially after you helped me like you did. I actually
always thought of you as something special after that. I used to wonder what
you were up to."

"Really?"

"Really. So, what do I call you?"

"Callie. Only my dad calls me Grace."

"Where'd you get Keene?"

"It's my mom's maiden name. I used it when I applied
for jobs around here because I wanted to make sure I was getting it on my own
merits, not just because of who my dad is."

"That's admirable."

I smile. "He hates it. It really limits his ability to
control my life. That's why he gave Upland his business, and why he came to the
meeting the other day."

"I thought he was just trying to see his pretty young
thing," Boone admits with a smile.

"Ugh. Can we never mention that again, please?" I
ask with a shiver. I watch his hands as he turns one upward and rubs his palm
with his other thumb as though working out a cramp.

"You're Mason's daughter," he says again, though
now his inflection is different. I wait for him to continue. "He's given
me so much." He looks around his beautiful office and then back down to
me.

"I know," I say quietly. "I just wanted the
chance to know you as me. I knew it could never really go anywhere."

"That's true."

His words hit me like a ton of bricks. It didn't seem like
it was really over until he said those words. But I just can't let him go. If
he's not going to fight, then I will. I stand, my head level with his as he
leans on his desk.

"But what if..." I rest my hands on his knees.

"Callie," he says warningly.

"I know we could never be together. And I know you
don't want anything serious, and neither do I, but maybe we could just see each
other every now and then," I suggest, sliding my hands further up his
thighs.

"You're asking me to betray your father," he replies,
but I can hear his breath catching in his throat as though he's struggling to
hold himself back.

"Yes," I say simply. "You know, I asked you a
question the other night and you never gave me an answer. So? Is it always like
that for you?" I look into his eyes, knowing I'm making a big gamble. For
all I know, every time he has sex with a woman, it
is
that good. But I
felt something that night that tells me it's not.

He slides one hand roughly around my neck and pulls my face
toward him. He pauses for a moment, his eyes glowing, his jaw twitching.

"No."

Our lips press against each other's and I dig my fingers
into his legs. I feel a surge of passion and pride as his tongue slides into my
mouth.
It was special for him, too.

My hands run from his thighs up to his belt. I want him so
much. I feel his huge cock pressing against the inside of his pants, and
hurriedly unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. I break away from his mouth
and kiss along his strong jawline to his ear, sliding my tongue inside it and
then softly biting his neck. I loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt as I feel
his hands slide under my t-shirt. I kiss and lick my way down his chest to just
above his belly button, then reach my hand inside his pants, pulling out his
member.

It twitches slightly in my palm and Boone's hands fly to the
edges of the desk to support himself. He groans as I slide my hand up and down,
and then kneel in front of him. I lick my lips as I lean forward, bending his
cock downward slightly and taking him into my mouth.  

My eyes tear up as his tip hits the back wall of my throat.
I taste the saltiness of his pre-cum on and pull back, swirling my tongue
around him and then pulling him back into my mouth. His hand slides down the
back of my head and he buries his fingers in my hair. I look up to see his head
tilt back slightly and his chest expand with a deep breath.

I move my head forward and back, then take one hand and wrap
it around his balls, and the other around the base of his shaft, my fingers
covering the rest of his member that is far too large to fit in my mouth. He
groans as I begin to move faster and faster. I watch his face, and my eyes move
down his chest, his tattoo just exposed by his open shirt. Boone Tillman, my
fantasy for so many years, now at the mercy of my mouth.

"Wait, wait, stand up," he gasps. I swirl my
tongue around his tip once more for good measure, and then do as he says.
"Turn around," he orders me. As I do, he takes me by my hips and
swings me around so that I'm facing his desk with him standing beside me.

I feel his cock press against the small of my back and then
his hands swiftly unzip my pants. He yanks them down to just under my knees,
and then pulls me back against him. His hands run from my waist, up the sides
of my ribs. I shiver as his fingertips brush the sides of my breasts, but he
keeps going, running his hands along my arms and pulling them up and placing
them around the back of his neck.

I leave them there as his hands move back over my breasts,
his palms covering them and massaging them firmly. One hand slides down my
stomach, and the other hand moves to my neck. As he slides his fingers under my
panties, his fingers close firmly around the base of my throat. He's not
pressing down, but he's certainly warning me not to move.

I cry out as his fingers slide across my wet clit. My knees
begin to shake violently as he rubs his middle finger around and around me. My
mouth opens and I'm quickly gasping for air. Pleasure swells between my hips
and my whole body begins to quiver.

His hand pulls out of my underwear, and he quickly tugs them
down. His other hand slides behind my neck and he presses me down and pushes me
forward slightly, so that my thighs are pressing into his desk and my breasts
are pushing onto a stack of papers just next to his computer keyboard.

He slides his fingers down my ass and then presses one
inside me. I whimper as he rotates it around and around. I hear the rip of a
condom wrapper and I bite my lip in anticipation.

"Hold on," he says, and my fingers find the edge
of the desk. I feel his cock against my ass, and he spreads my cheeks apart as
he finds my opening.

"Oh, Boone," I moan as he presses inside me. He
grunts as his cock stretches me apart. He pulls back out and thrusts in again.
I stand on my tiptoes to give him a better angle and hear him cry out as he
plunges back inside me and his tip hits my vaginal wall. His hands slide around
my hips and he drives in harder and faster. Even with his strong grip steadying
me, I can feel my thighs slamming against the desk, but I don't care. I'm lost
to the feeling of bliss that's enveloping my body.

I hear him cry out behind me, and the idea that I'm
responsible for his pleasure drives me over the edge. With a wild moan, an
orgasm flies through me, picking my chest up off the desk in a deep spasm. He
thrusts into me several more times as my body continues to shake around him.
Gradually, I still, and he leans forward, placing his hands on either side of
my waist.

We stay there for a moment, and then I feel him slowly pull
out. I take a deep breath and stand up, then pull my underwear and pants back
up. I look down and tuck my hair behind my ear as he walks over to me.

"Shy, all of a sudden?" he asks, slipping his arms
around my waist. I lean my head onto his chest, nuzzling into his shirt.

"Maybe a little," I say. He smells so good. I just
want to stay wrapped up in his arms, but I feel him lean back. He slips a
finger under my chin and tilts my head up so that I have to look at him. We
stare at each other for a moment. His mouth opens as though he's going to say
something, but then he closes it again.

"I should get back to work," he finally says.
"So you'd be fine with keeping this a secret? Just meeting up every now
and then?"

"Sure," I say with a careless shrug that
completely belies how I feel. "Just, um, just give me a call when you feel
like it," I add, extricating myself from his arms and grabbing my purse. A
big part of me feels dirty for offering myself up for booty calls like this, but
it's the best I can hope for. Boone and I can never have a real relationship,
and at least this is better than nothing.