Chapter Eighteen #3
He shook his head, cutting off my complaints.
“We’ve got time.” His able fingers plucked the button where I’d failed, and the slow rip of my zipper filled the cab.
He peeled my jeans from me, but the red, lacy underwear I’d picked up from Bealls last week stayed irritatingly on my hips.
He studied my pout, and a smirk took his lips.
“I told you the first time would be special, Mira.” He made a show of looking around, one golden eyebrow winged up. “This ain’t it.”
“Damn you, Caleb.” My voice had dropped to a whisper, and I crossed my arms over my chest like a shield. “I feel like I’m falling apart.”
He leaned down with a smirk, and his kiss was slow, languid, and teasing. I wanted to bite him. After he moved his hips to the side, the lightest brush of his fingers trailed up the inside of my bare thigh. Nuzzling my neck, he murmured, “Don’t damn me, woman. I haven’t let you fall apart yet.”
Cool air hit my moist skin as Caleb pulled my panties to the side. He blocked the breeze by cupping my sex, and I gasped at the feel of his hand against me. As I drew my knee up, I uttered, “Please.”
His lips moved against my throat, and he rubbed torturous circles against me with the softest touch.
The man was going to make me beg, and sadly, I wasn’t above it.
And just as I opened my mouth to plead, he slid a slow finger inside of me, drawing a shudder from me as I bore down.
The moan that came from my throat overshadowed the cicadas and crickets of the night woods.
Frantic for more, I slid my hand over his and pulled him into me again.
The shake of his head was unrushed. “No.” Prying my palm away, he pushed it above my head with his free hand and held it there. “Tonight you’re mine, and I’ll go as slow as I like.”
He pressed into me again, and I trembled, desperate for more.
Long, languid strokes built pressure I was insane to banish, but still, he held me there, just on the edge.
I pulled my hand from his wrist and clenched his shirt, arched back against him until my stomach brushed the fabric of his black, thermal sweater.
Caleb hunched in on himself at my touch, letting me see that he wasn’t as in control as he played at.
He was hanging by a thread, too, and when he dragged his hungry, inhuman gaze back to mine, I whispered, “I like you.”
Oh, he knew what I meant, and his eyes turned to blazing gold flames.
Cursing, he bucked against my hip and dropped his head until his teeth grazed my shoulder.
I rocked, and he let me set the pace now.
Clutching onto him, digging my nails into his skin through his shirt, three more fast strokes and I shattered, yelling his name as he pressed into me and held.
His chest heaved as he squeezed his eyes closed against whatever urges he was fighting, and it all became so clear.
He said I was his tonight, but now, he was also mine, too.
****
I thought it was Caleb who knocked on my door after our night was through.
Who else would be at my place at such an hour?
Who else was brave enough to travel my haunted woods at night?
He must have forgotten something. His hoodie still clung intimately to my torso, and he probably needed it back.
I hummed as I made my way to the door, but my old mangy dog, Brady, growled out his warning just as I reached for the handle. Too late.
“Evenin’, Mira,” Evan drawled as he leaned against the frame of my doorway.
“No,” I said, as if he’d asked a question. “You are not invited in.”
“I’m not a vampire, Mira,” Evan said, shoving his way past me. “That shit doesn’t work on me.”
I scuttled behind the kitchen table and held onto a chair with a steely grip, as if doing so would give me the strength I needed to throw it at Evan if I felt so inclined.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded.
“Pipe down, Crazy Mira. I’m not going to murder you or anything. I came to pass along a little information, is all.”
He leaned across the table, and I backed up, the chair in my hands shuffling loudly against the grain of the wooden floors as I dragged it with me.
“Look, I came here to tell you, you should forget about my brother. Just let him alone.”
“Why would I do that?” I asked shakily.
“Because from the way you look at him, I can tell you care about him. And if you care about him like I think you do, you won’t hold him back.”
I stared at him, completely at a loss to what he was going on about. He may as well have been speaking in pig latin, which I didn’t happen to know the formula for.
Evan growled with impatience. “Look, you crazy skank. If you know anything at all about my brother, you know his job is his life. And he just turned down the chance of a lifetime to work on a big rig as a supervisor because he’s all hung up on staying close to you.
He would be the youngest man at that position for fuck’s sake.
And that idiot turned it down flat. Your fault, Mira.
Fix it.” Evan turned and left the house without another word.
I closed my mouth and wondered abstractedly if it had been hanging open the entire time Evan had lectured me.
“I’m not a crazy skank,” I grumbled as I slunk down into the chair I had used as a barrier the moment before.
Evan’s motivation for bestowing such information on me was unimportant.
I didn’t have any doubts that it was for some dark reason, but if what he said was true, I couldn’t let Caleb give up his dreams for me.
He had a future. An important one. He was going somewhere while the rest of this sleepy town was frozen in place. I couldn’t rob him of that.
The selfish parts of me argued. He had made his choice. He had come after me. He had scaled that wall at the parade and invited everyone to watch him choose me. I could keep him.
Damn Evan for not telling me at Rooney’s before I gave my heart completely to Caleb in the front seat of his Ford.
In a wave of fury, I picked up the ceramic vase that sat idly on the table and threw it against the wall with a tremendous crash.
I screamed and put my head in my hands. Why?
Why couldn’t I, for once in my entire, miserable existence, have something that made me feel happy? That made me feel safe?
I wouldn’t be able to live with myself, knowing every day I took something from him—something so vital to his happiness. I wanted to give him things, not take them away.
I would never want anyone else. I had chosen to give my heart to the only man it found worthy, and now I would have to rip it away from his protective grasp. It was too late. The damage had been done.
His lips against mine, his secret smile, our dance, his touch. It would have to be enough to last my entire life.