Chapter 12 #3
“I’m serious, Eve.” He shakes his head while I pick up the first aid kit. “If he’s stalking you, that’s not good. He could escalate.”
“Escalate to what?” I scoff. “Stalking me at the office?”
“Breaking in.” Caleb doesn’t smile. “Hurting you. These things don’t end well, and the way he spoke to you, he was behaving as if you belonged to him. Have you even talked to your family about—”
“My family likes Luis.” I feel a hard knot of tension in my belly at his words. “We grew up together. Our mothers were friends. Mine always wanted us to date. Said he was steady, reliable… respectable.”
Caleb’s lips twist. “Yeah. He looks real respectable when he’s cornering you outside your building.”
I turn away from Caleb and grab a glass from the shelf. Pouring water into it, I stare at the clear liquid. “I gave in, and we dated for two years.”
Caleb’s voice is from right behind me, and I realize he’s following me around the kitchen. “Why?”
“Because it was easy,” I admit, my voice tight. “Because my mom approved. And because… I thought maybe I could make it work.”
I chug down the water, trying to get rid of the sweet taste on my tongue.
“But then he showed me exactly what kind of life he wanted for me. One just like his mother’s.
No job. No career. Just cooking, cleaning, raising kids, waiting around for him to come home.
He wanted me to quit my job and become his housewife. ”
I turn around to face him, my voice dark, steady. “I’ve worked too hard all my life to give up my dreams for a man.”
Caleb’s blue eyes soften, his anger shifting into something quieter. “Good,” he says, his voice low. “You shouldn’t.”
That catches me off guard. A laugh slips out, humorless but real. “Well, I figured that out soon enough. When he proposed, I broke up with him on the spot.”
Caleb takes the glass I just set down and pours water into it from the jug on the table. Does he realize I just drank from it? I don’t know why it makes me feel strange to see his lips touching the same glass mine just did.
“He was never even my type,” I mutter. Caleb stands now, looming close enough that the heat of his body cuts through the cool air of the kitchen.
“What is your type then?” he asks, voice low, curious.
I cross my arms over my chest. “I like confidence. Respect. Someone who understands how hard I’ve worked and doesn’t expect me to shrink myself to make them more comfortable.
” My lips curve in a sly smile now, the alcohol pushing honesty past my usual filter.
“And more importantly, someone who’s good in bed.
” A tipsy laugh bubbles up from my chest at my own boldness.
His brows lift. “So, what—You’re saying Luis wasn’t?”
That makes me snort outright. “Luis? Please. He was always a selfish lover. Barely lasted, never cared whether I—” I clamp my mouth shut, but it’s too late. The words are out. I shake my head, bitterness rising. “He wasn’t even a good kisser.”
The sharp truth stings as it leaves me, anger I didn’t even know I’d been carrying bubbling over. Caleb’s fingers close suddenly around my wrist. His grip is firm but not painful, his blue eyes searching mine.
“What about me?”
My breath catches. “What about you?”
His jaw tightens. “Am I a good kisser?”
The question hits like a punch to the gut. My pulse skitters, warmth rushing up my neck. I scoff, trying to hide the way my stomach flips. “I didn’t even notice.”
His lips curl in a slow smile. He leans down, his voice soft, intimate, like a secret sliding against my skin. “Liar.”
And then his mouth crashes against mine.
It’s nothing like before—nothing like the whiskey-fueled desperation outside. This kiss is raw, molten, electric. His lips move against mine with purpose, his tongue stroking deep, coaxing mine into a cadence. My free hand grabs his shirt, dragging him closer until there’s no space left between us.
Caleb kisses like he’s making a point, determined to unravel every ounce of denial I’ve ever clung to. His teeth graze my bottom lip, tugging just enough to make me gasp, and he swallows the sound hungrily, angling my head with a hand buried in my hair.
I press my legs together, every nerve ending sparking to life under the force of his mouth on mine. I feel drunk all over again—but this time it’s not from the whiskey. It’s from him.
When we finally break apart, my lips are swollen, my breathing ragged. His forehead rests against mine, his breath fanning across my skin.
“Still didn’t notice?” Caleb’s words are a husky challenge against my lips, and the smugness in his tone sparks something rebellious inside me. I don’t answer—I can’t. Because he’s kissing me again before I even think to form words.
This one is deeper, hungrier. His tongue slides against mine with an expertise that makes my toes curl inside my boots.
I’m pinned between the counter and the sheer force of him, my hands gripping his shirt as if I could anchor myself to reality this way.
His palm presses against my lower back, urging me closer, until I can feel every hard line of his body against mine.
I gasp when his teeth graze my jaw, his mouth trailing fire down the side of my neck. My head falls back, a whimper escaping me before I can stop it. He groans in response, the sound vibrating against my skin as his hand tightens in my hair, tilting me to give him better access.
“Caleb—” I break the kiss, panting, my lips tingling, my body trembling. “We shouldn’t—”
His forehead rests against mine, his voice rough, low, threaded with hunger. “We’re drunk, Eve. This doesn’t count.”
The words hang between us, hot and dangerous.
Something reckless flickers inside me, and my lips curve into a shaky smile. “Doesn’t count, huh?”
His smiles, a wicked sight of pure temptation, his blue eyes dark with a hunger that matches mine. “Exactly.” His voice drops further, nearly a growl. “Which means if we do this… if we go further…” His thumb brushes my swollen lower lip, sending shivers racing through me. “It’s fine.”
For half a second, I stare at him, my heart thundering, my breath shallow. And then the dam breaks.
“Fine,” I whisper, before using my hold on his shirt dragging him back down to me.
The kiss is brutal, like the world outside doesn’t exist. He grips my hips, yanking me flush against him, his tongue sliding against mine in a rhythm that has my knees buckling.
The counter digs into my lower back, but I don’t care—I’m too lost in the way he devours me, in the way his hands roam over my body like he’s memorizing every curve, every inch he’s denied himself.
His mouth moves from my lips to my jaw, to my throat, sucking lightly at the sensitive skin there until I gasp his name.
And God help me—I don’t stop him. I don’t want to.
His mouth crashes back onto mine fiercely.
His tongue sweeps past my lips, claiming, demanding, until I’m clawing at his shirt like I need him closer or I’ll combust. His hands are everywhere—gripping my waist, sliding down to squeeze my ass, pulling me tight against the hard ridge straining in his jeans.
I gasp into his mouth, and his answering groan vibrates against my lips.
“God, you taste like whiskey and trouble,” he mutters against my mouth, biting at my lower lip before sucking it between his teeth. “Bet I can make you beg for my cock.”
“You’re such an arrogant ass,” I breathe, my nails raking down his chest. “Keep deluding yourself.”
Caleb laughs deeply before dragging his lips down the column of my throat. “And I bet you’re soaking for me,” he growls, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. “Tell me again how much you hate me while you’re trembling like this.”
“I do hate you,” I bite out, but my voice cracks when he grabs my blouse, popping buttons open one by one until the lace of my bra is exposed.
“Liar.” His mouth closes over the swell of my breast, wet heat searing through the fabric as his teeth graze my nipple.
I arch against him, my fingers tangling in his hair despite every ounce of pride screaming at me to shove him off. “Prick.”
His chuckle pulses against my skin as he yanks my bra down, baring me to the cold kitchen air. His tongue flicks over my nipple, then he sucks it into his mouth, hard, until I gasp, clutching his head tighter.
“God—” I whimper, the sound slipping out before I can stop it.
“That’s it,” he murmurs against my breast, pinching the other nipple between his fingers. “Moan for me. Admit I make you feel better than anyone ever has.”
“Fuck you.” The words come out breathless, defiant as my hips roll against his thigh as heat pulses low in my belly.
“You will,” he promises, pulling back just enough to meet my eyes. His pupils are blown wide, his grin feral. “But not until I’ve ruined you first.”
Before I can snap back, he’s pulled off my pants, and his hand slides between my thighs, pushing my panties aside. His fingers stroke through my slick folds, slow and deliberate, and my head tips back, a helpless moan ripping from my throat.
“Dripping,” he mutters, pressing two fingers against my entrance without pushing in. “And you still want to pretend you don’t want me?”
“Shut—ah—Shut up.” My voice falters as he slides a finger inside, curling instantly, finding that spot that makes my toes clench.
“Jesus, Eve,” he groans, pumping slowly, dragging out the torture. “So fucking tight. Can you feel how good you’re squeezing me already? You’re going to milk my cock the same way, aren’t you?”
I shake my head, clutching at the counter behind me as he adds another finger, stretching me. “Cocky bastard—”
If I had known his penchant for talking so damn much, I would never have—
“You love it,” he cuts off my thoughts, his thumb circling my clit with devastating precision. My hips jerk helplessly against his hand, the pleasure unbearable and perfect.
“I don’t—” I try, but the words dissolve into a cry when he thrusts his fingers faster, curling hard.
“You do.” His voice is a growl, his mouth brushing my ear. “And I’m not stopping until you admit it.”
“Never—ah, fuck—Caleb!” My walls clench tight, desire surging through me, building until I’m shaking.
“Come for me,” he orders, his thumb pressing harder, relentless. “Fall apart for me, Princess. Let me hear you scream.”
And I do. The orgasm crashes through me so hard I nearly collapse, my nails raking down his arms as I cry out, shaking against the counter. My legs tremble, my body clenching around his fingers, helpless and undone.
He withdraws slowly, smirking as he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean with a groan. “For someone who swears she hates me, your pussy’s telling a different story.”
I glare at him weakly, still gasping for air, but before I can muster a retort he drops to his knees, spreading my thighs wider.
“W-what are you doing—”
His hands grip my hips, dragging me forward on the counter until I’m open for him. His hot breath ghosts over my swollen folds, and then his tongue is there, licking a long, slow stripe from my entrance to my clit.
“Caleb!” I cry out, my head slamming back against the cabinet. My hands fly to his hair, pulling, but he only groans like he likes it, tongue flicking wickedly over my clit.
“You taste so good,” he growls between strokes, his voice muffled against me. “And I’m going to eat you until you’re begging me to stop.”
“Aren’t—Aren’t you being a little too cocky?” I pant, though my hips are already rolling against his mouth.
He chuckles darkly, then sucks my clit between his lips, hard, and I nearly scream. His tongue circles mercilessly, one hand pinning my hips down as I writhe, two fingers from the other hand sliding back inside me, pumping in time with his mouth.
“Oh—Oh, god—” My voice breaks as another orgasm builds, brutal and fast.
“That’s it, Princess,” he groans against me. “Ride my face. Use me. Show me how bad you need it.”
I do. I can’t stop myself grinding against his mouth as he devours me, his tongue stroking, sucking, relentless. The pressure snaps, and I come again, harder than before, crying out his name as my whole body convulses.
He holds me through it, licking me until I’m whimpering, trembling, begging without even realizing it. “Please—Please, Caleb.”
He pulls back, his lips glistening, his grin wild. “That’s more like it. Beg for me, Eve.”
“Fuck you,” I whisper, wrecked but defiant.
He stands, towering over me, his cock hard and heavy against his jeans as he leans down, biting my swollen lower lip. “Oh, you will. Right here, right now. And you’re going to thank me for it.”
My heart stutters, my body already trembling from his mouth, and then I hear it—the sharp clink of his belt. He tugs it loose, unzips, and the sound alone makes me clench around nothing, desperate.
“Caleb—” I start, but my protest dies when he wraps his hand around himself, stroking slowly, the thick head of his cock dragging through my slick folds.
“You feel that?” His voice is rough, taunting. “Soaked for me. So fucking ready.”
“Don’t think this makes you special,” I mutter, even as my hips jerk forward, chasing him.
His sinful laugh makes my lower muscles clench. “Still lying to yourself. But your pussy’s honest.”
And then he slams into me in one deep, brutal thrust. I cry out, clutching his shoulders, my head tipping back as he fills me completely, stretching me wide.
“Jesus Christ,” he groans, grinding deeper, his forehead pressing to mine. “So fucking tight. You’re choking my cock, Eve.”
I dig my nails into his back. “It’s just been a while.”
His laugh is dark, guttural almost, as he pulls almost all the way out before driving back in, the slap of skin against skin echoing in the kitchen.
Each thrust rocks me hard against the counter. Every slam of his hips steals another moan from my throat. His hand tangles in my hair, yanking my head back so his teeth can scrape along my throat.
“That’s it,” he pants, his thumb finding my clit again. “Come on, Eve. Scream for me.”
And when the orgasm hits, savage and shattering, I do scream—his name, his curse, his victory. My walls clamp down around him, dragging him over the edge with me, his groan raw as he spills inside me, hips jerking in uneven thrusts.
For a moment, the kitchen is silent but for our panting breaths, my body trembling. My blouse hangs open, my pants on the ground, the counter beneath me a mess.
Caleb lifts his head, sweat dampening his hair, his smirk already back in place. “Still think it doesn’t count?”
I shove weakly at his chest, though my laugh comes out shaky and wrecked. “If it doesn’t count…” I meet his blazing blue eyes, my lips curving despite myself. “…we can do it again.”
His smile is darkly amused. “Careful, Princess. I might just hold you to that.”
I stare at him, my body tingling with everything he’s put me through, and I know I’m nowhere done with him.