Chapter 18 Caleb
Caleb
At the first taste of Emma, I forgot everything as my blood roared in my ears, my heart drumming in tune to the rain.
I wanted to believe this was nothing more than two people stuck in a storm, but that was a lie.
I wanted this, I wanted her, and if I were being honest, I’d wanted her all those years ago too.
But all that faded away when I slanted my lips over hers.
The howling rage of the storm around us vanished as the kiss consumed me, dragging me willfully under her spell.
I couldn’t see shit, hell, I could hardly breathe, but I was surrounded by her scent, her warmth, and the feel of her restlessly squirming against me, letting out the sexiest little whimpers for more, more, more.
Her hands were tightly fisted in my hair like she needed me more than air, the sounds she was making heating me up like sunlight on my skin.
I slid my hands just beneath the sweatshirt of mine she wore, teasingly stroking up and down her stomach and ribs to the underside of her breasts, always stopping short until, with a huff of impatience, she grabbed my hands and dragged them where she wanted them.
A rough groan escaped me at the handfuls of soft, warm curves.
My thumbs stroked over her peaked nipples, and she let out a choked cry that went straight to my dick.
I started to pull back, trying to gain some control, but she held on tight while also tugging until I lay at her side, not letting go until we were plastered together like peanut butter and jelly.
She did suck in some air when she felt what she’d done to me, but the woman—on a clear mission now—rocked into my body.
And again.
I was…undone. Wrecked. In the very best of ways. “Emma—”
“Caleb,” she said, imitating my low growl with surprising accuracy. Then she smiled at me, her eyes filled with wonder and desire and heat and longing. Her guard was down, revealing the warmth beneath that tough-girl exterior, and it completely unmanned me.
We were the exact same in that regard, impenetrable until we were around each other. I ran a finger along her jaw, down her throat, smiling when she shivered, gently touching the dainty gold necklace with the two blue sapphires she always wore. “Em—”
Rearing up, she kissed me. Okay, no talking then.
Got it. I rolled her beneath me and took control of the kiss, groaning when she wriggled into me like I was the only thing that mattered on the planet.
I was nudging the sweatshirt off her, and she was sliding her hands into the back of my sweats to grip my bare ass when a loud shattering of glass from somewhere below us split through the air.
We jerked apart in shock. My shirt was off, hers was half off, and we were both breathing like we’d forgotten how lungs work.
“What was that?” she whispered, shoving the sweatshirt back into place as I rose to my feet.
I was already on the move, shoving my glasses back on my face, grabbing a flashlight. “Stay.”
She grabbed the other flashlight and ran down the stairs right behind me.
“So much for stay,” I muttered.
“Because I’m not a dog.”
Six rooms loomed ahead, empty and echoing, the fresh drywall still smelling of plaster.
We skidded to a stop at the first door and sucked in a breath.
The window was gone, shattered into a million pieces, shards of glass glinting on the floor.
Wind and rain howled through the gaping hole, along with the massive gnarled branch that had broken the glass—a wicked-looking reminder of the storm’s fury.
Emma backed up a few steps. Her spine hit the wall behind her. “Ohmigod.”
“Hey,” I said, moving to her. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re okay.”
Her eyes were wide. “Are we? Because last I checked, we’re stuck out here, and it could get worse—”
I reached for her, but she pushed me away, turning her back, hugging herself.
“Emma—”
“The plans for this property called for a pruning and trimming of the ten trees around the perimeter of the house,” she said tightly.
“Yes,” I agreed. “And the tree company’s on our schedule; they just haven’t gotten to us yet. Look, Emma, I know this is bringing up bad memories, but the manor’s huge, so it’s easy enough to stay away from windows. We’re still safe.”
She nodded, then shook her head. “I don’t feel safe.”
My heart squeezed. “We’ll go down to the basement—”
“I didn’t mean physically.” She met my gaze with her bleak one. “You know how when you start eating M this is a bad idea.”
I opened my mouth to say that no, we weren’t, but that would be me not validating her feelings.
And then there was the other thing. The one I’d conveniently ignored.
If we slept together here, then I was basically proving Ryder right, mixing business—his—with pleasure—mine.
But something was most definitely different this time.
I’d 100 percent connected with Emma on an emotional level. Shockingly easily.
That wasn’t the problem. No, the problem was that I had zero idea what to do with these feelings I’d never let myself experience.
Feeling left of center, I did what I always did when I had no idea what to do—I defaulted to my manufacturer settings.
“If you think we made a mistake,” I heard myself say, “then we made a mistake.”
She stared at me. Into me. And I could’ve sworn that, even though she’d started this conversation, she was disappointed.
Well, she could get in line. Disappointing those I loved was my specialty.
Fuck, she was shivering again; I could see her vibrating from head to toe from where I stood, but I couldn’t touch her, not with how she stood there hugging herself tight, now no longer looking at me. “Look,” I finally said, “there’s nothing we can do tonight.”
“There’s nothing ‘we’ can do period,” she said. “Because there is no we.”
Right. I gestured for her to head up the stairs first, still not touching her no matter how badly I wanted to. In silence, we moved to the attic and stared at the bed we’d been sharing only a few minutes before.
“You take it,” she said.
“I want you to be warm, Emma.”
“Same.” She sighed. “We’re supposedly grown-ups; we can do this. You can lie one way, and I’ll lie the other.”
Relieved I wouldn’t have to worry about if she was warm enough all night, I moved to where she directed. We settled in, her head at one end, mine at the other.
Outside, the atmospheric river raged on, while inside we lay there in the silence. I was still, not moving, barely breathing. How had we gotten here, to this…this silence? Because if there was one thing Emma and I had never been with each other, it was silent.
She was shifting around, tossing and turning, muttering to herself.
“Problem?”
“No.”
But she kept twitching and moving around. “Emma.”
“Fine. I’m cold.” Her hands brushed against my arm, and I just barely managed not to yelp at the icy touch.
“Come here.” I reached out, tugging until she’d turned around, her back against my chest, the backs of her thighs pressed to the fronts of mine, my arms around her, holding tight.
After a beat, she let out a long, slow breath of relief and relaxed into me. “Thank you,” she said softly.