Chapter 13 #2
But with Callan? It’s exhilarating in a way I didn’t even know I was capable of feeling. He’s the kind of person who makes your blood race, who pushes you to take risks you’d normally avoid, who somehow manages to be both infuriating and irresistible all at once.
I can’t love him, though. That’s not how this works, right? Besides, it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t seem like the type to settle down, and even if he was, I’m not sure he’d want to settle down with me. So what’s the point of even thinking about it?
I know myself well enough to realize I can’t go too far with this. A little thrill is fine, but too much, and I’ll catch feelings. That’s what I do. I care too much. I always have. I let myself fall into things until it’s more than just fun, more than just a temporary escape.
A kiss never hurt anyone, right?
My mind races in a thousand different directions as Callan’s hand lands at the small of my back, pulling me closer.
His solid body presses against mine, and the world shrinks down, until it’s just us, alone in this charged little space.
Every inch of me is acutely aware of the heat radiating off his skin, the strength in the hand at my back.
He leans down, his breath warm against my neck. His voice is a soothing murmur that sends a shiver down my spine. “What was that you were saying about a kiss never hurting anyone?”
Oh god. How much of that did I say out loud? My heart stutters, heat flooding my face as I hope and pray he didn’t hear every single word.
I swallow, trying to steady the erratic pounding of my pulse. The world feels like it’s tilting, spinning just a little too fast for me to catch up. “I, uh… I didn’t mean—”
He cuts me off with a chuckle, his thumb brushing the edge of my jaw. “Don’t worry, Sunshine,” he says, his voice low and full of that playful confidence. “I’m not going to bite.”
He pauses. “Unless you want me to.”
And there it is. That wicked gleam in his eyes that does things to me, making my heart race and my knees weak. I can’t help but laugh, even as my mind scrambles to catch up with my body’s reaction. “You’re not playing fair.”
His smile widens. “Never claimed to be, lass.”
There’s no point in trying to backtrack now. I do the next best thing and take a deep breath, pulling myself together. “What if I said yes?” The words tumble out before I can stop them. “What if I said I wanted you to?”
His hand slides up from my back to cup my face. The touch is gentle, but there’s nothing soft about the look in his eyes.
This is so dangerous. I could blame last night on alcohol and all the wedded bliss surrounding us. But now, I’ve got no one to blame but myself.
His gaze drops to my lips, and my breath catches in my throat. “Be sure about this, Sunshine,” he murmurs. “Because once I start, I don’t think I’ll want to stop.”
My answer comes not in words but in action. I rise onto my tiptoes, closing that last sliver of space between us. Our lips brush, and that whisper of contact is like striking a match to kindling.
His control snaps. His hand slides to the nape of my neck, fingers threading through my hair, tilting my head with just the right amount of force. His teeth catch my bottom lip in a gentle bite that sends a shockwave through every single nerve in my body.
I gasp against his mouth, and he doesn’t hesitate.
His lips press harder, deepening the kiss with an intensity that matches the heat pooling low in my stomach.
It’s everything I never knew I needed and more.
Explosive. Consuming. His tongue traces the seam of my lips, and when I open for him, he groans, a sound so raw and hungry it vibrates through my entire body.
The taste of him is addictive, and I crave more with every passing second.
His tongue slides against mine, not demanding but coaxing.
I press closer, my hands fisting in his jacket, desperate for something to hold on to as his kiss turns possessive. His teeth graze my bottom lip again, tugging gently before soothing the sting with his tongue.
His other hand moves down to my waist, fingers digging into my hip. A soft moan escapes me as he pulls me flush against him, the hard planes of his body pressing into mine.
I’m completely lost in him. It’s just us and the way his tongue moves against mine, the heat of his body, making me feel like I’m the only thing that matters in this whole world.
We stumble back, crashing against the bike, its cold metal digging into my back.
His body molds perfectly against mine, and suddenly I can’t tell if we’ve been kissing for minutes or hours.
Or hell, maybe it’s been seconds, but none of it matters.
The only thing that does is him, and the way he feels so damn good, so right.
He pulls away and steps back. I’m left standing in front of him, breathless, my heart hammering like it’s trying to make a break for freedom.
I’ve been wandering around in a layer of emotional fog, and he’s the one who’s managed to pull me out of it.
I could try to convince myself that it’s just the adrenaline, the way his lips felt like they were made for mine, or the way he looks at me like I’m not just a random person in his life but, I don’t know, important.
Deep down, I know better. It’s not just the kiss—though holy hell, the man kisses like he was put on this earth solely for that purpose. And it’s not just the rush, or the way my chest feels like it’s about to explode every time he looks at me like I’m his favorite problem to solve.
It’s everything. It’s the way he texted me good morning for six months straight, no matter the time zone.
The way he remembered that I hate bananas but love banana flavoring.
It’s how he actually listened when I vented about work and never once made me feel like I was too much.
It’s how he makes me laugh when I least expect it and somehow always knows when I need a minute of quiet instead of words.
It’s the way he makes me feel like I could completely fall apart, and he’d be there, hands out and ready to catch every piece without a second thought.