IV
Delirium
The icy bite of the morning breeze was exactly what I needed after the train wreck that was last night.
Viktor and Lucas had stayed at the bar until later in the night, and since Viktor was my ride home, I had to stay too. Thankfully, Bryce supplied me with endless amounts of wine after Viktor left me scathing and writhing on the spot, and he was even kind enough to pay for them. I hit a point of drunkenness to not care too much that the bartender felt bad enough for me to get me smashed, and we even exchanged phone numbers. I was only here for another week, but it was nice to know I had a friend close by if I needed one—if I was going to almost throw myself at a man who lived to get on my nerves, then I needed that friend.
Snow had fallen overnight, melting slightly as the sun rose. The land around me was a wash of whites and browns, mud caking some areas and making the ground treacherous. It didn't stop me from shoving my feet into my sneakers and running from the house. I stopped just outside the door, breathing deeply through my nose and exhaling a cloud of steam. I held my hand up to my brow, taking in the bright sun peeking out from above the trees.
Blowing into my hands to warm my fingers, I jogged down the stairs and toward the road. My head throbbed, my stomach roiled, the alcohol from last night threatening to come back up. But I knew the fresh air and exercise would help me, used to hangovers destroying my mornings for years.
I'm never drinking again.
The wind lashed at my face as I pumped my arms and legs. I felt the nausea slowly dissipate, replaced by the feeling of euphoria. I loved winter. I loved snow. And as much as I hated being a spinster, I loved spending Christmas with my family. See, you have nothing to be so depressed about, nothing to keep you up at night. But boy was I lying. I had come back so drunk, that Lucas, who was just as trashed as me, had to help me up the stairs and drop me onto my bed.
The moment the lights were off my head swam with inappropriate thoughts of Viktor smelling me, his dark eyes responding to me. Of knowing I wanted him. I couldn't stop my hand dipping into my panties and marveling at the wetness that was still there. It had taken only three strokes of my aching clit to bring me to an orgasm so intense it left me panting like I had just run a marathon.
"Stop it. You've known him two days and he's barely said a word around you," I snapped at myself. The wind tore my words from me, leaving me unsatisfied with the reprimand. "Fuck you and your stupid desperation," I cried, pumping my legs faster. Minutes blended and I had run a couple of miles before I turned back around. I ran harder, faster, meaner, the house coming into view in seconds.
"Stupid, desperate, boring loser!" I kept running, tearing around the side of the house, and coming to such an abrupt stop I slipped in the sleet and landed on my ass with a splat.
There he was. He stood in a tank top, totally inappropriate for this weather, with an axe slung over his shoulder. His top was drenched, his hair disheveled. He wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand as he looked down at me. His eyes met mine, but I was too busy trailing mine down his exposed arms and the muscle that corded through them. He was ripped, veins snaking up his triceps and biceps as if they were alive.
God damn .
He dropped the axe by his feet, walking toward me. I was too enamored by his body, his sweat-soaked top, to stand. I didn't notice the snow and mud soaking through my clothes until he furrowed his brow and said, "You're going to get frostbite if you stay where you are."
"Oh, right," I looked around, remembering where I was sprawled. There was no grace to my movements as I pushed up from the ground. He didn't move an inch, didn’t deign to offer me his hand, leaving me to struggle over the frozen mud.
"How are you up chopping wood after last night?" I found my footing, relaxing only slightly. I struggled to keep my eyes on his face, trying not to stare at his hard nipples that were showing through the fabric of his top.
"I clearly didn't drink as much as you," he ran his hand through his hair, further tussling it. "And I can hold my liquor quite well."
My hands shook with the urge to run them over his arm muscles. "I didn't drink that much." I crossed my arms to hide the shaking.
"I had to help you and Lucas inside, otherwise you would have both ended up sleeping in the yard last night." He narrowed his eyes. "You fell into the side of my truck when you were getting out; I had to make sure you didn't leave a mark."
I glowered back, my hands dropping to my hips. "Liar."
He stepped closer, leaning down until his face was level with mine. At this closeness, I could see the deep gold in his eyes, could reach out to trace the soft skin that hid under the rough stubble on his chin. Beautiful. "What you should know about me, Callie, is that I do not lie."
There it is. My name on his lips was like a sinful murmur, and my body reacted just as it had the previous night. My breasts grew heavy, my nipples hardening to stiff peaks. My clothes suddenly felt too restrictive, too hot, regardless of the cold winter's day. He dropped his head further, his nose rubbing in my hair. My breath caught at the intimate act, my toes curling in my shoes as he breathed deeply. I didn't know what it was about that—in most cases, I would have been repulsed—but my panties were damp again. Thankfully I already planned on showering after my run.
He groaned low in his throat, pressing his body into mine. My body was putty beside him and if he had tried I would have allowed him to knead me. "Mmm, Callie; such dirty thoughts."
I squeaked, ready to melt at his feet. The heat of his body seeped into me, pulling a most undignified moan from my lips. I tipped my head back, marveling at the feel of his breath on my skin, wishing to feel it in other places. I closed my eyes, unable to stop the image of his lips on my breasts, on my thighs, his tongue trailing over my heated skin. He pressed closer to me, his shared arousal evident as it pocked against my side.
"You need to stop whatever it is you're thinking, little kitten, otherwise I can't be held accountable for what I do to you." He snapped his teeth scarily close to my ear, his breath washing over my skin.
I gasped, choking on the icy air. A rush of heat burnt my cheeks at the renewed image of him between my legs, his teeth nipping at my thighs. My thoughts were interrupted, thankfully, by Mom’s melodic voice.
"There you are." Mom walked around the side of the house wrapped in the knitted blanket that had been draped over the back of the couch the night before. I took a step back, slipping on the sleet. Viktor grabbed my arm to steady me, which made me feel guiltier about my thoughts.
"I've been looking for you all morning." Mom paid no heed to the half-naked man standing beside me, very close to an axe.
"I've been jogging."
Mom tsked in a way only a mom could. "Callie! You'll catch a chill going out in this weather."
Viktor's presence—his decision to start chopping wood again as though to ignore our conversation—was just as distracting. "I'm fine."
"Well," Mom scoffed, "you're fine now." She opened her arms, pulling me to her side and wrapping me in the blanket. I had to admit that it was a delicious warmth. I snuggled closer to her. "Come inside and have some breakfast."
I was particularly ravenous after the long jog, so I didn't object. I allowed her to tug me back to the house, wishing to get away from the dark, dangerous man who I knew would destroy me. I couldn't help it, I looked back at Victor, only to find him watching me back, a smirk once again on his lips.