Chapter Eleven
R ain pattered on the roof of the lean-to, but all Matthew could focus on was the way Callie looked at him like he was wanted. Needed. Her lips were parted, eyes dark, wet hair half out of her ponytail, clinging to her shoulders.
God, she was beautiful.
Need gripped him tightly. He slapped the condom next to her on the table, then quickly shucked the rest of his clothes.
“That’s better,” she murmured and reached for him when he finished.
He grinned and stepped into her touch, capturing her mouth for a deep, thorough kiss. His chest pressed to hers, skin to skin, and the contact nearly undid him. She was warm, so damn soft, and still trembling in the best possible way.
The beauty was already under his skin, now she was everywhere . In his hands, in his mouth, in the pulse drumming hard and fast as she arched her sweet body, her tight, delectable nipples scraping against him, blowing brain cells right and left.
When he broke the kiss, his heart rocked in his chest as she grinned mischievously at him, scooting backward on the table, her gorgeous breasts bouncing, temping, teasing until he pulsed.
Then she spread her legs.
For a full thundering heartbeat, Matthew forgot how to breathe at the beauty displayed before him. He swallowed and muttered a curse. “Are you trying to kill me?”
She laughed. “No, I’m trying to entice you. Did it work?”
“Hell, yeah, it worked,” he replied, ripping open the packet and rolling the condom on before he climbed onto the table.
Her brown eyes were dark and smoldering as she watched.
Slowly, he crawled up her sweet body, kissing and nipping her quivering belly, her soft breasts, the spot on her neck that had her gasping and arching off the table into him.
Damn, she was so responsive. So perfect.
He drew back, kneeling between her legs. His hands bracketed her waist as he let his gaze trail over every inch of her—skin flushed, chest rising fast, her mouth parted, waiting, anticipating.
And her rich brown eyes were locked on him, full of heat and something that might’ve been trust.
He reached down, guiding himself slowly, deliberately, until he was nudging at her entrance. Her breath hitched. His did too.
“Matthew,” she whispered.
His gaze still locked with hers, he pressed forward, sliding into her inch by inch. Her warmth closed around him, and the sensation nearly shattered his focus. She cried out—soft, needy, completely unguarded.
It was the most honest sound he’d ever heard.
Gritting his teeth, he sank deeper, breath catching when her fingers gripped his arms.
“Damn, Callie…”
He braced his hands on either side of her head, and she arched beneath him, her breasts brushing his chest, the friction lighting him up like a live wire.
One of her hands slid to his neck, the other dug into his shoulder, and when her hips lifted to meet him, he started to move slowly and deeply, savoring every pass, every amazing reaction written across her face.
He kissed her again, leisurely and unhurried, trying to imprint the moment into memory. She moved with him, matching his rhythm, mirroring the intimacy. Her calves curled around the backs of his legs, pulling him closer until they were flush, tangled, completely lost in each other.
Thunder cracked in the distance, but the only sound that mattered was her soft gasp when he thrust a little harder, her nails pressing into his skin as her head fell back with a cry.
He felt her tighten around him, felt the quake begin in her thighs and ripple through her body as her climax hit, sharp and gorgeous. And when she called out his name on a hitched breath, it wrecked something in him.
He was gone.
Matthew thrust once more, hard and deep, his whole body locking tightly as he followed her over the edge, his breath ragged against her damp skin.
They stayed that way, bodies joined, hearts thudding wildly against each other in the humid hush that followed.
He didn’t move away. Not yet. Although, he shifted his weight to one arm and cradled her face with the other, brushing back the hair that had come loose from her ponytail.
“You okay?” he asked, voice hoarse and low.
She nodded, a beautiful, satiated smile tugging at her mouth. “More than.”
Matthew let out a breath and kissed her again, gently this time.
Yeah. He was screwed.
And for the first time in a long damn while, he didn’t mind one bit.
***
T he rain had softened to a drizzle, the kind that made the world feel hushed and slowed. But inside the lean-to, Matthew’s pulse hadn’t caught up.
Callie was still beneath him, her breath warm against his shoulder, skin damp with sweat and rain. He wasn’t ready to let go. Not yet.
Then, from below the table, a low snuffle broke the silence.
Matthew blinked. A black nose poked out near their heads, followed by a pair of damp, curious eyes.
“Well, hell.” He let out a surprised breath, grinning as Sammy emerged soggy and sleepy.
Callie’s laugh was soft, breathy, and entirely beautiful. “He stayed the whole time, didn’t he?”
Matthew reached over and gave the dog a quick scratch. “Sorry, pal. Forgot you were under there.”
Sammy licked his wrist in reply.
They eased apart slowly, reluctantly, and Callie sat up, then scooted off the table. Her cheeks were pink, but not with embarrassment. No awkwardness. Just the flush of warmth still lingering between them. She caught his eye, and for the second time that day, it hit him like a punch to the ribs.
This wasn’t casual. This wasn’t a one-time, oops-we-got-caught-in-the-rain-and-had-a-moment thing.
Something had shifted between them, and it wasn’t going back.
While he put on his jeans, she found her bra, tugged it into place and wrung out her shirt before slipping it on.
“Yours is probably a lost cause,” she said, nodding at the sopping heap by his boots.
Snorting, he squeezed out the water and wrestled it on anyway. “I’ll survive. Pretty sure I’m already committed.”
“To what?” she asked, her voice low and teasing as she struggled into her jeans.
His eyes met hers across the short space. “To whatever this is.”
Callie didn’t say anything for a beat, then she gave him the tiniest smile. “Good.”
She nudged him gently with her shoulder as she straightened. Rain misted in, gentler now, as the sky still rumbled overhead.
Sammy bounded out first, tail wagging as if he hadn’t been a four-legged chaperone to their intimate moment. Callie followed him, stepping barefoot onto the gravel with zero hesitation.
Matthew stayed behind for a moment, watching her.
Strong. Beautiful. Independent as hell.
But she hadn’t pushed him away. Not this time.
He grabbed his boots, shoved them on without bothering with the laces, and stepped into the rain after her—soaked shirt, pounding heart, and all.
By the time they reached the main building, the worst of the storm had passed. The sky was still a muted steel, heavy with leftover humidity, but the thunder had rolled on, leaving behind puddles and the scent of wet cedar and stirred soil.
Callie stepped toward the breaker box attached to the utility wall, Sammy trotting beside her, unaware that the storm had rocked the world sideways.
Before she could reach it, Matthew caught her hand.
She stopped, surprised, but she didn’t pull away.
He gently tugged her closer, the hush of the moment stretching wide around them.
Rain dripped from the eaves behind him. Her cheeks were flushed, her shirt clinging, her hair loose from its tie and curling around her jaw like a siren’s dare.
He didn’t say a word, just leaned in and kissed her again, unhurried, grounding, needed.
Her fingers gripping the front of his damp shirt, and for a heartbeat that seemed to stretch a lifetime, they simply breathed the same breath.
When he pulled back, her eyes were still closed.
“I’m glad I stayed,” he said quietly, brushing a damp curl from her cheek, “with you.”
She opened her eyes slowly, then gave a small, breathless laugh. “Yeah,” she murmured, “me too.”
After a few long beats, she turned back to the box and flipped the latch. Sammy sniffed at the corner, the storm bringing him new smells.
Matthew stood behind her as she checked the panel. “You think it tripped?”
“Only one way to find out,” she said, flicking the main switch.
The lights blinked twice, then steadied, casting a soft glow over the shop’s interior.
Callie let out a laugh, light and relieved. “Well, look at that.”
“Must’ve been the kiss,” Matthew said, only half joking.
She turned her head and gave him a dry look, but her mouth tugged up at the corners. “You taking credit for power restoration now?”
He shrugged. “Only the emotional kind.”
Her gaze softened before she shook her head and stepped further into the building, water dripping from her shirt as she walked. “Come on. Let’s not catch pneumonia.”
Matthew thought about reminding her it was the middle of a Texas August and not much chance of that, but he stayed quiet as he followed her inside.
The scent hit him as the door closed behind them—warm soil, various flowers, and her .
That same wild sweetness that had haunted him since the first day she’d looked right through him with those sharp, mesmerizing eyes.
It was the same scent that had lingered on his fingers after he’d held her as they’d danced the other day.
The same one that filled his lungs now, curling down into the places she’d already branded.
Not perfume, just Callie. Real, raw, and unforgettable.
And damn if it didn’t light up every memory and want tangled up in his chest.
She moved to a shelf near the counter and pulled two shirts from a stack of simple cotton T-shirts, branded with Morgan Creek Nursery in green script. One was sage, the other a burnt orange.
Callie glanced toward the front corner near the register. “Camera’s probably back online.”
“True.” He nodded. “You don’t want to give Carter a show.”
She snorted. “Or my employees.”