Chapter 16
Callum
Reaching over, I shift a lock of Sophia’s hair from where it falls over her nose and tuck it back behind her ear. Her soft pink lips part every time she exhales, her slumber calm and peaceful.
These PTSD episodes rarely happen anymore, but they take everything out of her. She’ll sleep for twelve hours.
We sang her song a couple of times, and I helped tuck her into bed, staying with her to make sure she was out.
These attacks are the one thing that made me apprehensive about her helping Dallas in the classroom.
If she freaks out at school, what’s private won’t stay private.
She hated being away from her mom and me, so we try to help her manage with the outpatient therapy.
Going after her is the one way anyone can wield power over me, and I don’t want him to have it.
I need to be more careful. Anything that sparks her memories of the trauma sets her off. It’s what happened four years ago when she needed more professional help than we could give her.
Plus, my father wanted her out of sight.
My stepmother kept an apartment in West Palm Beach to be close to her daughter’s hospital as often as possible, but the prenuptial agreement kept her married to him.
If she left him, she wouldn’t have the money for her daughter’s care, but her daughter wouldn’t have needed care if her mother had never married my father in the first place.
I learned very early that life is one cruel joke after another.
I lie next to Sophia, my arm tucked under the pillow.
She’s the only person who likes me.
And I’m failing her. The curfew isn’t working, I’m not any closer to paralyzing the Bay, and the only time I got hard tonight in the Wolfe Room was when he was looking at me.
I clench my teeth, swallowing the needles in my throat. I can take being weak. I can face my proclivities. I can swallow my pride.
I can’t let her see that I’m not her knight. I’d rather lose my legs.
My eyes fill, and I roll off the bed, grabbing my shoes and socks off the floor.
Walking out of her room, I close her door, leaving it open a crack, and make my way down the dim hallway to my room.
Flame bulbs flicker in the lanterns on the wall, and it hurts to breathe, the weight on my chest heavy.
She’s all I have.
My marriage someday will be a lie. My friends are lies.
I don’t own anything that I can’t live without.
There’s nothing else but her.
“Is she okay?” a voice pierces my thoughts.
I suck in a breath, jerking my eyes to my bathroom.
Dallas stands there with my towel wrapped around his waist as he rubs another one over his wet hair.
What the fuck? I wet my dry throat, blinking as I take in the droplets of water covering his chest and stomach. My cold skin floods with warmth, the steam from my shower floating across my face.
Did he use my shower?
How the hell…?
My eyes sting, my head hurts, and I drop my things, looking around for anyone else.
But it’s just him.
What—
He tosses the towel down and combs his hand through his dark hair as he steps out of the bathroom.
I tense every muscle in my body. The longer hair on top of his head falls straight over his temples and curtains his green eyes. My heart pumps so hard, everything shifts to the desire I feel.
“You look like you needed to fuck,” he tells me in a gentle voice. “Me, too.”
I would think he was antagonizing me, but he says it so sincerely.
I need sex? Is that what he thinks? We’ll just call a truce to get it on for a few hours, and then he can walk out the door knowing he can have whatever he wants?
What a fucking dick.
But I drop my eyes, knowing he’s naked under the towel.
It’s wrapped so tightly around his ass, I can see the curves where it hugs just below his waist.
Jesus…
My body stirs, my fingers aching to touch him. It’s been so long.
Too bad I fucking hate him. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my phone, quickly dialing Grady.
Dallas grabs the old football on my dresser and tosses it. It hits my hand, the phone tumbling out of my grasp.
I steel my spine, lifting my chin as he stalks toward me. “Like you’re not gonna slit my throat,” I spit out.
There’s no way in hell I’m falling asleep with him in bed.
But he just fixes an amused look on his face. “I don’t want to drain your blood, Golden Boy,” he says softly. “I just want to drain your cock.”
My dick swells, remembering his mouth.
He closes the distance between us. “Let’s stop fighting until the sun comes up,” he coos. “Get in bed.”
I laugh at him. “Go back to your shithole, Mr. Jaeger.” I swipe up my phone and set it on the small table next to me. “There are plenty of warm bodies there for you.”
I start to walk away, but he shoves me into the wall. I hit hard, the wind knocked out of me. He presses his body into mine, his breath landing on my cheek. “I’m feeling more aggressive tonight.” He stares at me, unblinking and unfazed. “Aren’t you?”
The hard ridge of his cock presses into me, and I almost smile. His attention still feels good. I’m gonna enjoy this, after all.
Pushing him away, I grab his neck with one hand and throw my other fist. I hit him, sending his head flying to his right.
He doesn’t stumble, but he definitely fucking blinks.
“I’m not a kid anymore,” I growl, getting in his face. “I’m not impressed with your temper and your truck and the grease on your hands. I’ve had more and better since you.”
A smile spreads across his mouth, and he wipes his lip with the back of his hand. “I don’t think you have.”
Such arrogance. He never knew shit about me, and he certainly doesn’t know anything about the last four years of my life.
“How many?” he asks.
I shake my head. As if he kept count himself. Unfortunately, I do have some idea of his sex life while I was at college. Small town, and Dallas Jaeger is a rock star all the women want to screw.
He gets right in my face, but I don’t back up. I may not have been able to keep up in a fight with him four years ago, but I can now.
He levels his eyes on me. “You don’t get to throw around your exclusive little club, your women, and your instructions as if you’re so superior and then not show me what you got,” he taunts. “Because I know you, and I know the Wolfe Room doesn’t have anything you want.”
“Are you sure?” I can’t keep the glee out of my eyes. “He’s in really good shape.”
He thins his eyes. I know he saw Micah and me playing together tonight.
“And he’s mature,” I add. “Knows how to take his time in bed.”
“You never complained.”
“I was a virgin,” I remind him.
I didn’t know any better. Which is probably why he liked me.
He exhales a laugh, and I check to see his cock isn’t pressing through his towel anymore. I smirk. Good.
Now, fuck off. See if you can make it home before the cops spot you.
He doesn’t, though. Backing away two steps, he regards me. “I hated your clothes,” he tells me, “and your car and your friends and how you were always looking at me.”
How would he know? He never looked at me except to see if I was gone from his bed yet.
“All the time, fucking staring at me,” he mocks.
I avert my eyes so I’m not staring at him.
“But I liked the dark with you.” He lowers his voice, his tone suddenly serious. “Naked and no talking and never having to see that look in your eyes.”
I swallow, remembering it. I’m surprised he does, too.
“Just the screwing,” he goes on. “Maybe the best I ever had.”
And what should stay in my head spills out, because even though I don’t want him to see all of me, I know the truth is the fastest way to get rid of him.
“Because my heart was in every touch,” I tell him. “You felt it but you didn’t have to see it in the dark. Or let me see you.”
He doesn’t move, and now he’s the one staring.
He liked me in the dark, because he didn’t have to face me.
He just felt how much I wanted him.
Turning, I throw open my balcony doors, letting out the heat from his shower. Wind billows the sheer curtains.
“You know, a few years ago,” I offer, “I finally understood you.” Facing him again, I lean back on a desk I’ve never used. “Your mother felt too much and it killed her.”
Slowly, he lifts his chin, his shoulders squaring.
I continue. “So you gorged on everything until nothing at all meant anything.”
I get it. We’re all just reactions to our parents. I don’t want to repeat the pattern any more than he does.
“Smart,” I tell him. “The greatest lesson I ever learned from you.”
People will kill you. Choose wisely who you die for.
Dallas looks away, and I don’t know if he’s about to hit me or walk out, but in a moment, he’s grabbing his black pants from the chair.
Pulling them on, he flings the towel away, and I don’t avert my eyes as I gaze at him. He was right. In the dark, it was incredible. I still love his body and part of me wishes I could look at it at length right now.
But with every moment that passes, I’m feeling better than ever, and tonight’s failures seem ages away. I worried I’d give in to him if he tried to seduce me, but it looks like I have more self-respect than that, after all. Just like Sophia’s knight should.
“Be careful out there,” I tease.
The cops are back at the station, but they’ll be watching the street cameras.
He buttons his pants, speaking up. “Oh, I’m not leaving,” he says, peering over at me. “Curfew doesn’t lift for five hours.”
What?
My face falls as he saunters over. “I just wanted my pants on,” he taunts, “because we’re about to be all over the place.”
And I barely have time to lift my hands before he’s clutching my arm in one hand and my neck in another and throwing me down on the hardwood floor of my bedroom.
My ribs ache as I get the wind knocked out of me, and the thud of my weight hitting the floor reverberates through the house.
Goddammit! Sophia…
Pushing up on all fours, I’m shoved back down again, his foot on my back. I flip over, grab his leg, his hair swaying over his brow as his abs flex, and I yank him, letting out a howl.
He crashes to the floor, and I scramble to straddle him, climbing on top.