Chapter 18 #2
Clint stands and offers her a hand up. I watch on bated breath to see if she accepts the offer. She hesitates briefly, but when her hand slips into his, my stomach sinks. I shouldn’t fucking care this much. I have no claim over her.
Callie follows Clint onto the dance floor. He spins her into him as an upbeat song plays on the jukebox. She follows along with the two-step as best she can, faltering a few times. It’d be endearing if I weren’t so goddamn jealous.
As I down the rest of my beer, Mo sidles up beside me. “Green isn’t your color, Hayes.”
“I don't know what you’re talking about.”
Mo flags down the bartender and orders herself a drink. “Your eyes haven’t strayed from Callie since you sat down. She’s too nervous to notice, but it’s obvious to literally everybody else. Even Clint. He’s over there putting on a show to get under your skin.”
“Clint can get fucked.”
Mo jerks her chin in their direction as Clint takes his cowboy hat and places it on Callie's head. “He might if you don’t get your head out of your ass.”
Clint catches my eye and winks.
My fists flex at my sides. “The fuck he will.”
Mo’s laughter follows me all the way to the dance floor.
Callie’s eyes meet mine, causing her to stumble.
I catch her around the waist before she hits the ground.
With all the subtlety of a raging bull, I take Clint’s hat off her head and shove it at him.
He’s wearing a shit-eating grin, and his shoulders shake with silent laughter. I fail to see the humor in it.
Turning my attention back to the woman in my arms, I tug until we’re chest to chest. Her breath hitches as my lips ghost over her ear.
“Do you know what it means to wear a man’s hat, Callie baby?”
“What does it matter to you?”
I growl. “You trying to make me jealous?”
She lets out a humorless laugh.
I walk her backward until her back is against the wall, take one of her hands, and pin it above her head. “I can't stand the thought of another man’s hands on you. His lips. His tongue. Touching you. Kissing you. Tasting you.”
She draws in a ragged breath, every soft inch of her perfect fucking body molds to mine like she was made for me. I’m certain she was.
I palm her hip, my fingertips skating along her soft flesh through her thin satin skirt. Her breathing picks up, and her chest brushes against mine.
“You want to wear a hat?” I say gruffly. “It had better be mine.”
A spark of defiance lights in her eyes, more green than blue in the glow of the bar lights. She tugs on the chain around my neck, bringing my lips dangerously close to hers. “And then what?”
“We both know the rules.”
The world around us stills as she plucks the hat from my head and places it on her own. “Your move, cowboy.”
Her eyes drift shut as I inch closer, but I don’t close the distance. Instead, I bring my lips to her ear and nip at the lobe. “It’s bad form to go home with another man’s date.”
I release her and shove away from the wall.
Shock overtakes her features.
“When you’re ready, you know where to find me.”
“Wait,” she says breathlessly. “You forgot your hat.”
“No. I didn’t.”
I stride through the exit without looking back. Just seeing Callie in my hat has me clinging to what little remains of my composure. She’s temptation incarnate, and I’m the bastard who’s more than willing to corrupt her. But not yet. Not until she’s ready.
I sit in the shadows of the front porch as the night drags on with no sign of Callie.
Best-case scenario, she went home with Mo.
Worst case, she went home with him. I’m tormented with thoughts of her in his bed, giving herself over to him.
He doesn’t fucking deserve her. He’ll use and discard her like everyone else in her life. Callie deserves to be worshiped.
Just as I’m about to give up and head inside, she drags her feet up the cobblestone path with her high heels swinging off two fingers, her face tilted to the sky. My hat is exactly where I left it. The last thread of restraint snaps, and I rush down the porch steps.
Exasperated, she says, “What do you want, Jax?”
She lets out a small squeak as I sweep her into my arms and carry her inside. With my heart in my throat, I deposit her in front of the roaring fire and take the shoes from her hands, tossing them to the wayside along with my cowboy hat.
She presses her palms against my chest in a futile attempt to push me away. She doesn’t get the chance; I trap them where they landed. My heart beats erratically beneath her palms. Can she feel it? Does she know what she does to me?
“Tell me, Callie. Did he touch you like this?” I trace the delicate column of her throat, down to the tattoo on her collarbone, leaving goose bumps in the wake of my gentle touch.
Her eyes drift shut.
My hot breath fans across her lips as I lean in dangerously close. “Did he kiss you breathless?” I slide my hand along the curve of her soft belly and around her back, pulling her body flush against mine.
Her lips part on a quiet gasp. I want to cover her mouth with mine and devour those sounds.
She tilts her head to the side in silent invitation. My lips travel farther, just a whisper of a touch on the shell of her ear.
“Did he fuck you?” I whisper. “Leave you exhausted and satisfied?”
Her fists slowly close around my sweatshirt. I can’t tell if she’s trying to bring me closer or push me away. I don’t think she knows either.
“Answer me,” I whisper harshly.
She swallows thickly. “No. We didn’t do anything.”
“Good. He could never give you what you need.”
The firelight dances in her irises as that familiar spark of defiance ignites within her. “What makes you think you can?”
“Because you were made for me, Callie baby. You may not see it yet, but I know you feel it. Your body knows what you refuse to acknowledge. And when you’re ready, I'll be here to show you all the things you've been denying yourself.”
I turn my back on the scene and walk away.
“Cocky cowboy,” she mutters.
With one last glance over my shoulder, I pick up my hat and place it back on my head. “You have no idea.”