Chapter Sixteen
C allie led Matthew down the short hallway, her fingers wrapped around his as if she’d been doing it forever. But she hadn’t. He was the only one she’d ever let into her home. Into her bed.
Her pulse hadn’t steadied, not even close, not after what he’d just done to her. But this was more than heat humming under her skin. This was choice. Certainty.
This wasn’t reckless anymore.
It wasn’t a maybe.
It was a yes.
In her bedroom, soft light spilled through the window, casting shadows on the quilt with a blue and gold daisy-a-day pattern her grandmother had made for her birthday last spring. The air held a quiet stillness, as if the space itself knew this moment mattered.
Matthew paused inside the doorway. She turned to face him, her heart thudding wildly, but she didn’t back down.
Not this time.
She stepped closer and slipped her hands beneath the hem of his shirt. “Your turn,” she whispered, lifting the fabric slowly, loving how his flesh quivered under her touch as she bared inch after incredible inch of warm skin and muscle.
His eyes never left hers.
When the shirt dropped to the floor and his hands found her waist again, her breath caught, not from nerves, but from want. From trust.
From knowing exactly who she was letting in.
His touch was gentler now, tender in a way that made her knees weak. He dragged his fingers slowly along her hips, then up, bunching the thin cotton of her sundress in his hands.
She raised her arms, letting him pull it over her head.
His gaze raked over her, and his inhale and muttered curse that fell from his lips when he discovered her braless made her burn hotter.
“You,” he said softly, his voice raspy and low, “are going to ruin me.”
Callie reached for his belt. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”
The air between them sizzled, thickening with heat and promise as she undid the buckle, pushed his jeans down, and let them fall to the floor.
He bent and made quick work of his boots and socks, and when he stood, she brushed her fingers over his jutting length through the thin fabric of his briefs.
Matthew’s jaw clenched, and he momentarily closed his eyes.
Man, he was magnificent. The urge to touch him became too strong.
Trembling, she ran her hands up his torso and kissed his chest. “I need you, Matthew.”
His breath caught, the sound rough and raw against the quiet. He leaned down and kissed her again, deeper this time, answering her with his body.
Callie slid her fingers into his hair and pressed close, needing to feel him against her. The incredible man was solid, warm…hers. She drew back to stare at his mouthwatering form. Broad shoulders, carved muscles, a faint scar below his ribs she hadn’t noticed before.
She traced it with a fingertip. “What’s this from?”
“Ugly mission. Worse timing.” He caught her hand and brought it to his mouth. “But not this. Not us.”
The words settled deep, but before she could reply, he was easing her back until her legs hit the bed.
Her heart skipped, then raced. Not from nerves, but from the ache of wanting him in her space, without walls or hesitation.
It was all new to her and exciting and right.
Matthew paused, as if he needed to memorize the moment, then he slowly lowered her onto the mattress. The way he looked at her made her feel desired, special…cherished.
She watched with bated breath as he shucked his briefs, dug a condom out of his discarded jeans, then proceeded to roll it on.
A heartbeat later, he crawled up her body, covering her with every bit of glorious, heated, muscle. Callie glided her hands over his back, her heart pounding as if trying to break free from her chest.
Matthew lifted up, bracing himself above her, his gaze locked on hers. “You okay?”
She nodded, her breath catching. “More than.”
His mouth captured hers then, and he kissed her slowly, thoroughly, and deeply, and everything inside her began to unravel. Each point of contact sent sparks tumbling through her veins, but it was the way Matthew looked at her, the way he held her, that undid Callie completely.
It wasn’t only his body she wanted. No. Callie wanted this strong, caring, sexy man in her life forever.
When he finally settled between her thighs, she opened for him without thought, without fear. He entered her with one smooth thrust, his groan low and guttural against her ear. Her breath hitched, and her hands clutched at his shoulders as the sensation stole every thought from her head.
“Callie,” he whispered against her ear.
She gasped, arching into him, her hands clutching at his back. “Yes…”
He stilled for a moment, his forehead pressed to hers, breath ragged. “All good?”
She smiled up at him, breathless and full. “So good.”
His mouth curved, hungry, affectionate, and then he moved, slow at first, deeply and deliberately, as if he had all the time in the world.
And she gave herself over to it.
To him.
To them.
Every roll of his hips drew soft moans from her lips. Her name kept spilling from his as if it were the only word he remembered.
Their mouths met again, feverish now, hands roaming, bodies moving, giving, taking. Each stroke a slow, amazing promise. Not rushed. Not greedy. Just a deep, patient rhythm that made her forget how to breathe.
She ran her fingers through his hair, down his neck, holding him close as her hips lifted to meet his. They moved in sync now, quiet gasps and soft moans the only sounds besides the rustle of quilt and the thudding of her pulse in her ears.
Matthew kissed her again and again—her mouth, her jaw, the hollow beneath her ear—every press of his lips hungry and devastating. She could feel how much he wanted her, not only in the strength of his body or the heat between them, but in the way he looked at her as if she was it.
S he was home.
He shifted, adjusting his angle, and a sharp wave of pleasure tore through Callie. She gasped, nails digging gently into his shoulders.
“Right there,” she whispered, her voice ragged, barely recognizable.
He did it again and again.
Her thighs trembled around him, her body winding tighter with each slow, unrelenting thrust. He reached down, finding the place where her nerves were strung tight and touched her with the same aching care he always did.
Her breath caught. “Matthew…”
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough against her throat. “Come for me, Callie.”
And she did—splintering apart beneath him, every nerve alight, every part of her crying out as the pleasure crested and crashed and her whole body trembled beneath his.
He followed soon after, groaning her name as he buried himself deep and held her through it, shaking with the force of his own release.
He didn’t move right away, just stayed there, his heart racing against hers, both wrapped in something too big to define.
Eventually, he kissed the corner of her mouth and whispered, “You wreck me.”
Callie smiled, still catching her breath. “Good.”
***
T he next morning, Callie woke slowly, her limbs tangled in warm sheets and even warmer skin. For a second, she didn’t move, didn’t want to risk breaking the spell of early light slanting through the curtains or the steady heartbeat beneath her ear.
Matthew was still asleep, one arm tucked behind his head, the other wrapped loosely around her waist. His chest rose and fell in a quiet rhythm that grounded her more than any alarm clock ever could.
She traced a lazy fingertip along the curve of his bicep, watching the muscles twitch, making sure this wasn’t a dream.
It wasn’t.
Her body ached in the best possible way, and her heart? Well, that was another story entirely, because somewhere between the kiss he’d given her at the nursery and the way he’d touched her as if she meant something—everything—Callie had stopped pretending this was temporary.
She was in trouble. The good kind. The forever kind.
Matthew stirred beneath her, his voice low and rough with sleep. “You watching me?”
“Maybe.” She smirked, not bothering to deny it. “You snore, by the way.”
“Lies,” he murmured, eyes still closed as his hand skimmed down her bare back. “I breathe with authority.”
A quiet laugh escaped her before she propped herself on one elbow and brushed the hair off his forehead. “You okay?”
He opened his eyes then, slow, warm, and fully focused on her. “Yeah,” he said, voice quieter now. “Absolutely. You?”
Callie stared at him, heart pounding harder than it should’ve, then whispered, “Me too.”
She settled back down, and they stayed there for a few minutes, wrapped in silence and each other.
Until her stomach growled. Loudly.
Matthew grinned. “Guess that means round two is postponed until after breakfast?”
She groaned and flopped back against the pillow. “Don’t tempt me with pancakes and promises.”
His brows lifted. “You have pancakes?”
“No, but I have coffee. And bread. And the tiniest bit of self-control left.”
Matthew leaned over, kissed her shoulder, and murmured against her skin, “Challenge accepted.”
***
A half hour later, after Matthew proved she had zero self-control where he was concerned, they were freshly satiated, showered, and dressed for the day.
Callie padded barefoot into the kitchen, still towel-drying her hair when Sammy trotted in from the backyard through his doggy door, tail wagging and tennis ball in his mouth as if he'd missed them for days instead of hours.
Matthew bent to greet him with a scratch behind the ears. “You keeping watch while we overslept, buddy?”
Sammy dropped the ball at his feet, clearly unimpressed with their priorities.
Callie smirked. “He’s judging us.”
“Probably earned it,” Matthew said, tossing the ball once before catching it again. “Coffee?”
“In progress.” Callie crossed to the counter, scooped grounds into the filter, and hit the start button with a yawn. “You get morning sass once the caffeine’s brewed.”
Sammy let out a hopeful bark behind them.
“And you get breakfast now,” she added, grabbing his bowl and filling it with kibble. The Golden Retriever pranced in place, and you’d swear she was handing him a T-bone steak.
Matthew leaned against the doorframe, watching her with an expression that softened everything inside her. “You’re good at this,” he said.
She glanced up, a brow raised. “Making coffee?”
“Being someone people want to come home to.”
The comment caught her off guard. Her breath snagged in her throat as their eyes locked.
“I haven’t had that in a long time,” he added, his voice low, almost shy. “But you make it feel easy.”
Heat curled through her, quiet and steady. She set Sammy’s bowl down, washed her hands, and then turned toward him, wiping her hands on a dish towel.
“You always say the right thing,” she said softly.
“Truth is, I never talked this way before you.”
Her chest tightened at the quiet vulnerability in his voice. He wasn’t just saying it. He meant it.
The coffeepot burbled behind her, a reminder that time hadn’t stopped even if it felt that way in the space between them. She stepped closer, curling her fingers lightly around his shirt.
“You’re not the only one,” she said softly, slipping her arms around his waist. “Whatever this is, it’s changing me too. For the better.”
His arms came around her, no hesitation, no need for words. It was the kind of hold that told her she wasn’t imagining any of it. One hand rested at the small of her back while his other one slowly brushed along her spine.
Callie let herself sink into him, her cheek pressed against his chest, heart beating a little too fast.
“I never thought anything this incredible could ever exist for me,” she whispered. “But it’s real. With you, it’s real.”
He pulled back to meet her gaze, his warm and steady. “You needed someone who saw the real you.”
Her heart squeezed.
Then he leaned in and kissed her, gently, slowly, surely. A kiss that told her this was the beginning of something lasting.
When they finally parted, she rested her forehead against his for a breath, smiling against the tangle of nerves and sweetness still humming beneath her skin.
“Okay,” she said softly, nudging his chest. “If we don’t get moving, I’ll be late for work, and my boss is a bitch.”
Matthew grinned. “Don’t talk that way about my woman.”
“Am I your woman?” she asked, heart leaping in her chest.
“I hope so,” he replied, his gaze searching hers. “You tell me.”
Something fluttered in her chest, strong and sure. “Oh, yeah. I’m most definitely your woman.”
She cupped his face and pulled his mouth to hers, confirming her words with a kiss thorough enough to leave no room for doubt.
The second their lips parted, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
Matthew exhaled a groan, his forehead resting against hers. “If that’s Carter, he has the worst timing.”
Callie gave him a soft smile. “Answer it. It might be something.”
He pressed a kiss to her temple before digging out his phone. She watched his face as he glanced at the screen and saw his mood shift.
“It’s Mac.”
Her spine straightened. “Bad news?”
Matthew didn’t answer right away. He swiped to accept and said, “Walker.”