Chapter Twenty-Six Lexie #2
“He walked out of the ER that same day with just a few cracked ribs from the seat belt and a broken nose from the airbag.” Hatred burns in my stomach at the thought. “He was high on opiates. He never tried to slow down, didn’t even touch the brakes before impact.”
“Was he arrested?” Callum asks. I nod against his chest.
“He was walked out in cuffs. But he shouldn’t have been able to walk at all.” I’d never considered murdering someone until I saw the balding man shuffled out of the ER with barely a scratch. “People like Carl Suco don’t deserve to live after taking away so much life from this world.”
“He’ll get what’s coming to him. They always do.” There’s something in Callum’s voice, a dark promise, that settles the animosity growing inside me. “When you get nightmares, what do you see?”
Curly blonde hair, wide brown eyes lit with pain, and two missing front teeth.
“Every time I close my eyes, I see the life drain from Andie Brentwood’s eyes.
I see Tess Webb’s body severed in half at the spine.
I see Adnan Fasil impaled by a bus seat.
I see so many bright young lives destroyed and ripped away too soon, and there’s nothing I can do to save them. I can’t help them.”
I suck in deep shaky breaths to regulate my breathing and calm my erratic heart rate. Callum remains silent as I sit in his arms, trying to calm down before my panic attack can fully form. It takes several long minutes before I’ve pulled myself together enough to speak again.
“Sorry,” I breathe, pulling away from his chest to sit up straight. Forcing in a deep breath, I let it out slowly in an attempt to regain my composure. “I’m fine.”
Callum’s hand takes my chin and turns my face to look him in the eye.
“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Dewdrop.
You never have to apologize to me for how you feel.
” His thumbs brush away my tears tenderly.
Gazing into his eyes, I’m being drawn into him.
Our mouths are a breath away, and my heart stutters.
He’s being so unbelievably sweet, it’s overwhelming. The urge to kiss him is too strong, and when he glances at my lips I don’t hold back. Leaning in, I brush my lips against his.
Callum takes the invitation like I knew he would, using his hand on my face to pull me into him.
He doesn’t rationalize that I’m emotional and vulnerable, he doesn’t care.
This greedy, demanding man will take everything I freely give him without question or pause, just as long as I’m sober and willing.
And god, am I willing.
His lips capture mine in a kiss so deep that I feel it all the way to my toes.
Fire licks through me as our mouths move together, and I want more.
I always want more with Callum; it’s like we can never get enough of each other.
I shift on his lap, sliding one of my legs across until I’m straddling him.
Without hesitation his hand slides up my thigh to palm my ass.
He keeps it slow, drinking me in like he could kiss me like this forever.
There’s no hurry, no frenzy. Even when I feel him harden against my ass, there’s no attempt to deepen things.
He takes his time, exploring my mouth; nipping, licking, sucking.
And I’m lost in him. Just as I’m getting dizzy, he releases me.
Pressing one last lingering kiss to his lips, I sit back on his lap. He brushes the hair from my face, cupping my cheeks in his large hands. “Is that why you’re always in the kitchen in the middle of the night?” he asks. I nod against his hands.
“I’ve only gotten a few good hours of sleep in the last few weeks.” The night I spent in Callum’s bed comes to my mind—the only hours of restful sleep I’ve had since the trauma. Callum catches it before I avert my eyes.
“Tell me,” he insists, lowering his head to catch my gaze. I might as well, I’m in too deep now anyway. With what I’ve shared tonight it’s just a drop in the bucket at this point.
“When I was in your bed, and you laid on top of me,” I admit. Warmth floods his eyes, the edges of his face softening. And there’s something else that flashes across his expression, something primal that looks a lot like satisfaction.
“I wore you out,” he rasps.
“I felt safe.” It’s the truth, the realization hitting us both at the same time. He brings my mouth back to his, kissing me soundly. I speak against his lips, “You owe me at least five truths after all this.”
“Deal,” he replies without contest. “But not tonight.” With that, he stands from the couch, taking me with him. My arms clasp around his neck, my legs wrap around his hips, clinging to him. He cups my ass, supporting my weight without faltering.
“What are you doing?” I breathe in surprise.
“Taking you to bed.”
“Cal.”
“You need a good night’s sleep.” His deep voice vibrates in his chest against me. “I’ll keep you safe from the nightmares.” He carries me into his bedroom, leaning down to pull back the covers before gently laying me in the center of the California king.
He steps away, his hands moving to unbutton his shirt and walk into the closet.
I take the opportunity to get more comfortable and unclasp my bra under my top, pulling my arms out of the sleeves, I tug the straps down my shoulders and out the bottom of my shirt.
Leaning over to the side of the bed, I drop my bra on the floor.
Callum emerges from his closet wearing a pair of pajama pants hung low on his hips and nothing else. He’s a very impressive man. He’s not a body builder with muscles just for show. His strong frame is thick and solid, built for power—a Viking ready for war.
Flipping the switch next to the bed, the room is doused in darkness save the soft glow coming from his closet.
The mattress dips under Callum’s weight, and I’m being pulled back to the center of the bed by a strong arm wrapped around my waist. I let out a breathless laugh, looking up at him kneeling over me.
Being back in this bed, sinking into the lavish sheets surrounded by the scent of his musk, I can already feel the peace settling over me.
Without a word Callum takes his place lying on top of me, strong arms circling my waist with his head tucked between my breasts.
The considerable weight of him sandwiches me between his body and the mattress.
I feel so small with him, a foreign feeling in my fat body.
There’s something about being dwarfed against a Viking of a man that makes me feel so delicate.
When did Callum become my safe place? The thought terrifies me.
“This doesn’t change anything,” I yawn, feeling the need to clarify. “Between us, I mean.” I’m lying to myself, we both know it. Because despite my declaration, it sure does feel like something is shifting between us.
Callum settles against me, letting out a heavy breath of gratification from his place between my breasts. “Go to sleep, Dewdrop. You can go back to wishing you never met me in the morning.”