On Loverose Lane (Return to Dublin Street #1)

38. Beth

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

BETH

T he truth was with how on edge Callan had been that night, I’d expected rough, hard, fast sex as soon as we walked into his flat. Instead, he seemed contemplative as he held my hand and guided me into his bedroom.

I waited, following his lead, insecurities, worries, doubts all mixing with this insatiable attraction.

Callan held my gaze, his intense and filled with desire as he shrugged out of the Harrington jacket he’d worn over a black T-shirt. The T-shirt followed the jacket onto the armchair in his bedroom. His shoes and socks were next.

My skin heated as I took in his glorious nakedness, my belly clenching deep and low. He was so unfairly beautiful, but my attraction had only deepened over time. Not lessened. Because the sexiest man could be standing in front of me right now, but if he wasn’t Callan Keen, I wouldn’t be interested.

Heart racing, I licked my lips in anticipation as Callan unbuckled the slim leather belt wound through the loops of his suit trousers. Then he was shucking out of those, revealing his sculpted footballer’s legs.

Finally, his boxer briefs joined the pile, and I was faced with a very naked, very turned-on Callan. He stroked his cock as he gazed at me before he sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Come here.”

I crossed to him and he reached for me, gripping my waist in his strong hands. For a few seconds, Callan coasted his palms over my arse, up my back, around my waist, and down my hips again. His touch dipped down the back of my thighs, and I shivered as he met bare skin and pushed his hands under my dress, taking the hem with him. We’d never been this quiet in bed before. Usually Callan murmured filthy things that made me hot and sometimes made me laugh.

It was so quiet, all we could hear was each other’s slightly shallow breathing.

Cool air hit my backside and between my thighs as Callan pulled the formfitting dress up. He kept going until it got stuck on my boobs. I reached down to help, gripping the fabric and pulling it up and over my head.

It lay discarded at my feet as Callan took me in, standing between his legs in nothing but my bra and knickers and high heels.

I kicked off the heels, and his hands settled on my waist.

“I remember the first day I saw you.” Callan suddenly broke the silence. As he spoke, he stroked and squeezed my waist and hips and stomach as if he couldn’t not touch me. “I thought you were the most stunning girl I’d ever met.”

I stiffened in surprise at the confession but then whispered, “I thought you were the most beautiful guy I’d ever seen.”

He let out a little huff of amusement, like he didn’t know what to do with being called beautiful.

I waited for him to say more.

Instead, he curled his fingers in my knickers and drew them down until they fluttered to the floor and I stepped out of them. Then he tugged me toward him, guiding me to sit on his lap, my legs spread over him. Callan halted me as I hovered above him but only to grip his cock in hand and bring it between my legs. As soon as I felt him throbbing and hard, nudging into me for relief, I placed my hands on his shoulders for balance. And then I pushed down.

“Captain,” I gasped quietly, arching my back as he filled me. So thick. So overwhelming. It wasn’t something I’d gotten used to yet and honestly, I hoped I never would.

“Fuck, yes.” Callan’s hands slid up and down my back as I took a second to adjust.

My knees settled on either side of his thighs and then I pushed up slowly, moaning at the drag of his cock against my tight inner muscles. All the while, I held Callan’s gaze. His teeth gritted with the sensation, and he grunted with pleasure as I lowered over him.

His fingers plucked at my bra strap, and it fell away from my breasts. He impatiently removed it, banded his arms tight around me so I couldn’t move over him, and then covered my right nipple with his mouth.

Shivers cascaded down my spine as pleasure bolted between my legs.

I wanted to move on him, but Callan wrapped his hand in my hair and yanked hard enough to make me gasp. He held me like that as he worshipped my breasts, moving between the two until my nipples were swollen and I was ready to combust. His thickness inside me, growing more needful by the second but not moving, not feeling the friction I so wanted … I was losing my mind.

Then suddenly, we were up. I grabbed Callan’s shoulders, gripping his sides with my inner thighs as he stood. For a second, he looked up at me in his arms. And then he gently laid us down on the bed.

“Spread, princess,” he demanded gruffly.

I widened my legs as he braced himself over me, sliding my hands around his waist to his smooth back, feeling his muscles move under my palms. Exquisite tension shuddered through me as Callan pulled out and then thrust slowly back in.

Our gazes held. His was tender and fierce as he took his time, his hips moving with sexy languidness against mine. My fingernails bit into his back as the tension tightened, growing tauter, tauter.

“You’re so beautiful,” Callan groaned, his hips snapping a little harder against me now.

Not “You’re so fit” or “sexy” like he usually said.

Beautiful.

And he looked at me like he meant it. And that maybe he was talking about more than my body.

As our hips came together in gentle urgency, our gazes never breaking, I realized … we were making love.

Not fucking.

Making love.

My climax shattered through me on his next deep plunge, and I shuddered beneath him, moaning his name.

Callan came in the aftermath of my climax, bowing his head in my neck as his cock throbbed inside me. He ground his hips as if he didn’t want it to end, his groan reverberating in my ear.

This was the point in the night Callan would carry me into the bathroom to clean me up, but only so we could go another round. Starting all over again with foreplay.

But as I lay there with his heavy, strong body over mine, I felt my insides come apart in a different way. Not in a good way.

The tear escaped before I could stop it.

I brushed it aside and pushed at Callan in the panic. “Get off,” I whispered frantically.

Callan’s body went from relaxed to alert in zero point five seconds. He lifted his head to look at me. “Beth?—”

“Get off.” I shoved at him.

“Fuck.” He rolled away, but as I moved to get out of the bed, he stopped me. “Beth, talk to me. Did I do something?”

Aye. You made me fall for you, you absolute arsehole . His stricken expression, however, cut through my own. How was he to know how I was feeling if I didn’t bloody tell him?

I sat up and moved to the edge of the bed.

“Beth.”

“I can’t do this anymore.” I looked back at him over my shoulder. “It’s … it’s not just casual anymore for me.”

Callan’s expression blanked.

Pain, like a sharp burn across my chest, made me look away. Quickly, I stood and started dressing, ignoring the wet evidence of where he’d been between my legs.

“Beth, don’t go.”

I looked at him as I stepped into my shoes. “Why?”

His expression was no longer blank. There was a desperation in his eyes that gave me hope.

Yet he didn’t respond.

I yanked on my dress, rolling the hem down my thighs. “I can’t do another six weeks.”

“Beth, come on.”

The pleading in his expression emboldened me. “I have real feelings for you. If you have real feelings for me, then let’s cut this timeline bullshit out and make a go of this.”

Callan dragged a hand through his hair and let out a shuddering breath.

“Well?”

Finally, he looked at me. There was turmoil there. It made my stomach clench. “I … I can’t do a relationship. Not just with you. With anyone.”

That pain in my chest … it was suddenly a fissure that broke into a million more. I didn’t want to cry. Not in front of him. Not when he was sitting there telling me I wasn’t special after all. Making love to me … was it because he was in the mood for tender?

It meant nothing to him?

I really was only a convenient body to shove his cock into.

“This is over,” I choked out.

I was out of the room before he could say anything. My heart raced so hard, I thought I was going to be sick. It was probably why I didn’t hear him coming after me. But as I reached the exit, he was suddenly there, his expression panicked as he pressed me against the wall at his door. Caging me.

“Don’t,” he pleaded. “Not like this.”

Damn him because the tears I’d been fighting so hard to keep in spilled out.

“No,” he whispered hoarsely at the sight of them, ducking his head to kiss them off my cheeks. It only made me cry harder. “Please, princess, don’t cry.”

I shoved at him. “Then let me go.”

“I can’t, I can’t.” He pressed his forehead to mine.

“I’m telling you I need this to be real between us,” I told him through my tears. “If you can’t give me that, let me go.”

After what felt like an age, Callan lifted his forehead to mine. To my shock, he seemed angry. “I can’t do a relationship with anyone ,” he gritted out.

Self-preservation kicked in and I felt a numbness cascade over me. My tears dried on my cheeks. “Then let me go,” I demanded coldly.

He searched my face. Seeing I meant it, his eyes flashed and then he kissed me, hard, punishing. I had to fight against his pull, that frantic hunger for him. “Stop,” I panted, breaking away.

“Is that really what you want?” He bit at my jaw, and then pressed wet kisses down my throat. I hated that my body reacted, arching toward him for more. “Because I didn’t know the last time was going to be the last time.” Callan lifted his gaze, lust blazing in it.

I knew what he was asking for. I knew and I should run like hell.

But I was furious and hurt and I wanted to rip him to shreds for it. I lunged for his mouth and we crashed together in biting, wet kisses. Callan shoved my dress up to my waist as we devoured each other and then he yanked on my knickers until they fluttered to the floor. I stepped out of them as Callan dragged his mouth down my throat, his stubble scratching against my skin.

And then he gripped my thigh, spreading me.

My head flew back against the wall as he thrust into me. Hard. I wrapped my other leg around him and let him lift me up. His cock slid in so deep, I cried out.

Our gazes held, his holding a turmoil of fury, misery, and lust as he fucked me against his wall. My cries of frantic pleasure mingled with his grunts and groans. Callan was unrelenting, fierce, powering into me as I clung to him.

In the back of my mind, I knew this was wrong and messed up, that I should have walked out on him, but it was almost like he was an addiction. Any pleasure was worth the pain.

My orgasm tore through me, and I screamed as my inner muscles contracted voluptuously around his cock.

“Fuck! Beth!” Callan bellowed as his back bowed, his teeth gritting as I felt him throb dramatically inside me. It was so powerful, a little mini orgasm followed in the wake of his release.

Once the fog of desire lifted from my mind, tears thickened my throat again. Callan must have felt the change because he withdrew, gently lowering me to the floor as he did.

I could feel his cum between my thighs and for the first time between us, I felt used.

“Come back to the bedroom,” he whispered, tugging on my hand. “Get cleaned up, sleep it off.”

He thought a great fuck against the wall had changed things that much?

I stumbled away from him, turning the lock on his door. “What’s the point?”

“Beth—”

“Stop it.” I glared at him. “If I’m not what you are to me, then I’m just a body to stick your cock into. And I deserve better than that.”

Rage flashed across his face. “You know that’s not true—that you’re not just a body to me. It’s not that simple.”

“It feels that simple,” I whispered, fresh tears burning in my eyes. “I’m falling for you, Callan. Every time you touch me now, it’ll be like you’re using that against me to get what you want. That’s what happened there.” I gestured to the wall he’d fucked me against. “Is that the man you want to be?”

He stumbled back, like I’d slapped him.

And I walked out the door.

I kept it together until I got to mine, until I stripped out of my clothes and climbed into the shower to wash him off me. That’s when I fell apart. Until I was a ball in the corner of the shower stall, sobbing so hard, my ribs hurt almost as much as my heart.