Chapter 41 Callie
Callie
The room is dark and quiet, save for the gentle rhythm of River’s breathing beside me. He’s fast asleep, one arm flung over his face, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady pattern that should be comforting.
And normally, it is.
Tonight, though, the stillness does nothing to soothe me.
It only makes everything louder.
My thoughts won’t stop spinning.
The game.
The locker room.
Zane.
The loan.
The way River looked at me like I was his whole world, even after I told him everything.
I roll onto my side and watch him in the faint silver wash of moonlight that leaks in through the curtains. His lashes are feathered against his cheek, his jaw dark with stubble, and one hand curls loosely against his bare stomach.
Physically speaking, the man is beautiful.
But he’s so much more than that.
He’s kind.
Generous.
Reliable.
And he’s still here after everything I confessed. He didn’t walk away or tell me to pack up and get out.
Zane might’ve said all the right things earlier tonight, but River’s been showing them from the moment he opened his door and let me and Nora in.
Every breakfast he made.
Every book he read at bedtime.
Every small moment he didn’t have to offer but gave anyway.
He’s loved Nora without hesitation, like it’s woven into his DNA.
And she’s fallen for him, completely and without question.
If I’m being honest, so have I.
The ache inside me expands so quickly, it nearly swallows me whole.
The truth is terrifying.
My heart hammers as I push upright in bed, the only sound the slow, steady rhythm of River’s breathing beside me.
With trembling fingers, I reach for the hem of my tank and drag it over my head. The thin cotton slides across my skin and then pools beside the bed. My underwear follows, slipping down my legs in a whisper of fabric before I let it fall to the floor.
I shift the covers before straddling him, my knees bracing on either side of his hips.
The sheets rustle around us, the quiet movement amplified by the hush of the room.
River stirs beneath me, a low murmur falling from his lips.
His brow furrows and then relaxes, his body stretching instinctively toward mine.
His eyes flutter open. “Callie?”
I lean down and kiss him, savoring every second as his arms circle my waist and draw me closer. A groan vibrates through him as our mouths move together.
His hands skim over my bare skin, awakening every nerve in their path.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, voice hoarse as his lips brush mine.
I press my forehead to his. “Nothing. I just need you.”
His grip on my hips tightens, and the feel of him does the impossible and grounds me in this moment. “You have me.”
His words are gentle and fierce all at once. A life preserver in the dark I can cling to.
I exhale as my fingers curl around the waistband of his boxer briefs. Slowly, I ease them down over the firm lines of his hips, past the powerful cut of his thighs, until he kicks them off.
I shift, letting my body glide against the thick ridge of his cock. The friction is instant, and it sends a thousand shivers racing across my skin.
My spine arches as every nerve ending sparks to life, drawn to the heat of him.
I don’t just want this man.
I need him. Every inch, every part of him pressing into me until there’s nothing left between us.
Nothing in my life has ever felt this right.
Or this real.
Like something I never truly believed I could have but stumbled into when I needed it most.
“Callie,” he groans. “That feels so damn good. You feel so damn good.”
His fingers flex against my hips, digging in just enough to keep the control from slipping through his hands.
Every breath he holds is a silent promise that he’ll never rush me. That this will happen on my terms.
And that only makes me want him more.
I move slowly, teasing him, rocking my hips until I’m soaked and aching, until every part of me throbs with the need to be filled.
To be his.
His jaw clenches, the muscles in his arms trembling with the effort not to rush ahead, but still, his gaze never leaves mine.
He waits patiently.
He’s steady and unshakable.
Instead of demanding, he offers every part of himself.
And when I can’t take another second of space between us, I shift and guide him to my entrance. The thick head of his cock presses against me.
It’s hard, hot, and absolutely perfect.
I lower myself onto him, inch by inch, until he’s buried deep inside me and we’re fully connected.
I release a moan and settle against him, bracing my hands on his chest. He cradles my hips, anchoring me as we move together. And in this quiet hour, wrapped in shadows and everything that’s still unspoken between us, there’s no confusion.
No fear.
No past.
Just this.
Just us.