by Zoe Dawson
“Callie?”
There was a squeak and she came tumbling down on top of him, along with a rain of purses.
“What the hell?” he exclaimed, as he barely managed to catch her before they fell to the floor together.
“Why did you sneak up on me like that?” she demanded, pushing up on her arms and planting her hands flat against his chest so that she could look him in the face. Her face was flushed and her eyes were stormy. He’d never seen her like this before and wondered if she’d had a bad day at work.
The act of moving her torso away from him only pushed her hips into his. He gritted his teeth at the pressure on his groin. The woman was driving him completely insane, and he was about ready to beg her. “I thought you were the thief,” he said, trying to keep his voice conciliatory.
“If that’s the case, you should have called the police,” she snapped. Her hips jerked around in her anger, and he couldn’t stop his immediate biological reaction.
“I wanted to make sure,” he said. “Why are you home early? You said four.”
“Are you my keeper?” Her brow arched and she took on that dog trainer voice. He wasn’t a canine, but he was smart enough to realize she meant business.
“Why are you so surly?”
Mild accusation glimmered in her gaze. “For your information, I was looking for my Judith Leiber clutch. It’s vintage, and I think it might have been stolen by the thief.”
“Is that why you’re in the closet?”
“Yes, and I’m home early because it’s your fault.”
“My fault? Why?” He was immediately concerned about what he could have done to upset her. He preferred his smiling, funny, Callie to this angry, aggravated woman.
“I want you,” she said breathlessly, leaning forward, grabbing the front of his shirt and tugging. His body, sensitized already by her gyrating hips, sprang to life, desire sizzling along every nerve ending.
His erection grew and she felt it. He saw the reaction on her face, in her eyes before she closed them. He shook with the promise of all that pent-up passion just waiting to be unleashed. “I couldn’t think clearly today, because all I could freaking think about was you.” Her hands kneaded his chest. “Waking up in your arms was an unbelievably tempting way to start my day. But I’ve sworn off men like you,” she said, her voice strained. “I promised myself I wouldn’t do it.”
“And, now you want to break that promise,” he murmured huskily.
“God, yes.” When she opened her eyes they were dark and keen with desire.
His patience snapped so completely he groaned with the need he’d trapped inside, the barrier he’d erected not only coming down, but he feared he was irrevocably changed. And her eyes widened in surprise when he flipped her onto her back amongst the debris from the closet.
He shook his head. “I think it’s a given that most men don’t really understand women, though I have made the effort. But you…”
She looked up at him, and the defenselessness in her eyes demolished the flimsy wall he had shored up. The barrier he’d had left over from his childhood, the one his aunt Tilly had tried to gently coax down, fell with a thud as she touched his face, tracing her fingertips over his lips, his cheeks, his forehead.
“There’s no need to figure me out, Owen, like some kind of equation. There’s no math required. Just go with your gut.”
“That’s the problem,” he said. “With you, everything is all jumbled up. Even the math parts.”
Her face softened and her fingers paused in their exploration. “What are you worried about? I know what I’m getting myself into.”
It wasn’t the question that gave him pause. It was the immediate answer that came to mind. Did he know what he was getting himself into, or was it already too late? His head told him he didn’t know her. His heart called him a liar.
“You are just so sweet. I just—”
“Don’t want to get involved with your plain Jane neighbor? The owner of the dog who got your dog pregnant?”
“There is nothing plain Jane about you. Nothing. You cloud my judgment.”
“It’s a bit too late”—she nudged her hips against the solid length of him—“for second guessing.”
He groaned at the move, and it took every scrap of will he had not to drive his hips into hers. He dropped his chin and swore under his breath. “I don’t know what the hell to think anymore. You’re driving me crazy.”
She cupped his jaw and brought his face up with the soft cadence of her voice until he met her gaze. “Good. It’s nice to have a kindred soul here in Crazyland.”
He smiled a little at that. He couldn’t help it. “My thinking needs to be a bit more focused if you want a way out of this.”
“And here I thought getting us both naked was a good idea. It could be a great way to diminish all this sexual chemistry standing in the way of our…clear thinking.”
“You think this”—he risked bumping the length of his erection between her thighs, catching his breath when she gasped, went a little more supple against him—“is all going to miraculously disappear, is that it?”
“Okay, so my thinking isn’t all that clear right now,” she managed with an intake of breath as he pushed against her again. “It was just a theory.”
He pushed her head to one side with his chin, dropped his mouth to the spot below her ear. “Do you honestly think one time will clear things up?” He placed a hot, wet kiss on the side of her neck, then gently sank his teeth into her flesh, making her gasp and his body jerk. “Or do you think it will only make me want you naked and underneath me as often as possible?”
“I—I can’t think.” She dug her fingers into his shoulders and moved her head, allowing him better access to the responsive underside of her chin. “I just don’t think ignoring it is going to make it go away.” She sighed when he began to drop kisses along the underside of her jaw.
“No, probably not. But it complicates things, Callie. I’m not good with complications.”
She was silent for a moment, then said. “I get that.”
He paused and pressed his forehead against her cheek. His body was one big hard-on at the moment, but his heart… She had a way of tangling that up without even trying. “Do you?” he asked carefully.
“We have our own paths. We’re adults. We’re not kids anymore, with fantasy dreams and unrealistic expectations…” She paused, he waited. “I won’t lie. I wanted you from the moment I saw you.”
He lifted his head then, looked her directly in the eyes. “Callie—”
“I know what I’m asking for.”
Trouble with a capital T, was all he could think and it affected both of them.
“Maybe even that is more than I can give.”
“Maybe. But I think it’ll be enough for me. For now.”
They’d denied each other more than once. He’d like to believe he was tough enough to do the correct thing every single time, no matter how demanding. But he was aware that he wasn’t perfect. And he also knew he wouldn’t be perfect with her.
“I wanted you then, too,” he told her, which made her eyes darken with need, her body soften even more in anticipation of him, and what was left of his resolve disintegrated.
He wanted to evoke that look in her eyes again and again. He wanted it when he was inside of her, when he taking her up, when he pushed her over. He wanted to be the only one who saw that look, ever, and it was that vicious, outrageous surge of possessiveness that almost gave him back the distance he so desperately needed.
“I want you. You want me. It’s simple,” she said.
“Yeah, he said, his voice now rough with need, with impatience, and not a little uneasiness. “Yeah, completely simple.”
#
She hadn’t planned this. Not really. Okay, everything she said was totally true. She had been distracted, and as the day wore on, she got angry. But she hadn’t been sure who she was angry at. But she guessed she’d made the decision already. Brooke an
d her friends probably wouldn’t approve, but this wasn’t about them or about approval. This was about connecting with a man she was attracted to, who made her heart beat faster. This was about both passion and friendship.
He’d said he wanted this, but he was still looking down at her. “Are we waiting for something?”
“I’m just…looking at you. Give me a minute.”
She melted right then into a warm, gooey mess, like chocolate in a heated pan.
His thumb slipped over her lips, and she kissed the pad, pleasure followed by the punch of desire she saw in his eyes, which had already been almost swamped with it. It was heady, powerful stuff, knowing she moved him like this. She tried not to think about how ambivalent he’d been before. Logic and rational thought were not going to stop this from happening, anyway.
He rose, and she thought he was leaving, that he’d changed his mind. But the flutter of panic changed into more melting when he said, “I’m not going to make love to you on the closet floor.”
She reached up and grasped his hand, and it was a short trip to the bed. She reached for the buttons on her shirt and he covered her hands and undid them himself. He removed the garment and unsnapped her bra, and she let it fall. She shimmied out of her khaki mini, pushing the panties off as she went. His eyes told her how beautiful he found her.
Naked in front of him, she reached for his belt and undid it. He closed his eyes as she undid the button and zipper of his pants and pushed them off his hips. His shirt came off last. His smooth, powerful body enticed her. She curved her hand around his face, reveling in the sheer pleasure of finally touching him as she’d wanted to do so many times. Slipping her hands into his soft, curly hair, she pulled his head down to hers, kissing him hard, and he returned it with equal fervor. He pushed her back onto the bed, and then, in unspoken agreement, they paused in each other’s arms. He tugged her hands from his hair and pinned them on either side of her, then slowly slid them upward, until her body bowed away from the mattress, pressing the tips of her achingly tight and sensitive nipples to the hard planes of his hot chest.
He crossed her wrists, then slid his hand down her arm, his gaze following, creating a second sizzling wake behind the stroke of his hand. He cupped her breast and kneaded it, his thumb grazing tantalizingly over her nipple. His gaze flickered up to hers as he gently pinched the tip. She gasped and arched into him, the exquisite sensations spearing through her, rendering her speechless as well as mindless.
“I’ve been dying to know how you taste,” he said softly as he lowered his head. She could feel his warm breath brush against her oh-so-sensitive skin. She wanted to sink her fingers into his hair, urge him closer, urge him to please put an end to the excruciating wait. But he continued his slow exploration until his warm, wet mouth captured her breast. She cried out as his tongue swirled around her taunt nipple and the suction made her hips restless beneath his. He nudged her thighs apart with his knee, his mouth traveling to her other nipple as he let go of her hands to arch her back over his arm, pressing her more fully into him.
One hand slipped down over her rib cage, into the indentation of her waist as if he was memorizing every inch of her. Then it slipped over her hip to cup her butt.
She groaned when his fingertips traced along her thigh and found her most sensitive flesh. Her thighs fell open, giving him better access as he intensified his sensual assault. Her hands clenched in his so-very-soft hair as his teeth nipped at her breast. She could hear her panting moans turn into soft gasps as she spiraled up and up…and finally over the peak.
She was shaking hard as his mouth covered hers, his kisses as intoxicating as his fingers had been. Nothing had ever felt this good.
“Callie,” he murmured against her lips, “I don’t want to stop, but—”
“Then don’t.” She brushed her fingers against the nape of his neck, and he groaned as he bucked against her, his shaft hot and pulsing.
“Protection,” he gritted, his body tensing as she moved fully under him.
“Oh, God. I was so caught up…top drawer of the nightstand.”
He did what was necessary. His body covered hers again. She could feel him literally vibrating with need. She wrapped her legs around him, opening herself for his thrust. His broad palms covered her hips as he glided into her. She arched, moaned, and when he began to move faster, she couldn’t contain her pleasure. She’d had raw before, but with Owen it was basic, earthy…deeply satisfying.
She clung to him, both of them grunting as his thrusts surged deeper, faster. She wanted to slow things down, so she could remember every second, revel in every feeling, every sensation, but she couldn’t even keep her eyes open to watch him. He was driving her up again, and she could only give herself over to it, to the powerful emotions and blistering sensations bulleting through her.
This is just sex. She reminded herself to make sure she didn’t lose sight of the ground rules.
What she actually experienced was an irrevocable bond being forged, a union like no other. And it was Owen. Her fantasy finally come to life.
And then whatever thoughts she had scattered completely as he slowed, and she could feel his body coil, tense, pull back, all in preparation for what she knew was coming. It was enough to send her over yet again, the waning sun spilling against their bodies like stardust, as she gasped for air and gave back equally with every swollen thrust he made.
He was all but growling when he came, his hands holding tightly to her hips as he bucked against her. She gave herself over to him, reveled in his shuddering release, tightening around him to give them both every last explosion of pleasure.
He was shaking as he slid from her body and let her legs drop from around his waist. He rolled them both so that she was lying on top of him. The cool air of the loft felt good on her slick skin. Neither of them moved. The sun sank below the skyline as their heartbeats eased to a somewhat steadier rhythm. It was the only steady thing about her at the moment.
It felt good, she decided, being in his arms. Held so tightly, both cuddled and coddled. But she would have to admit that she had expected him to roll over, get up, say that was great, dress, and leave. Given his aversion to commitment, somehow she figured he would be was cautious because his own emotions were in play. Maybe that was wishful thinking.
She had to prepare herself for it. She would have the sex she wanted with the bad boy, but this time she wouldn’t let him break her heart. She’d be prepared.
She must have withdrawn then, in some way, because he tightened his hold slightly, then slid his hand up to lift her chin.
“Hi there.”
She smiled at that. Men. Such a way with words. But it was the look in his eyes, a little amazed, but tempered with a lot of affection, that kept her from teasing him. She felt much the same way and wondered if he saw that in her eyes. “Hi yourself.”
“That was…” He let the words trail off, but held her gaze, his own intensifying in ways that had her heart rate kicking up again.
“Agreed,” she said softly. “It was.”
He gathered her closer, settling her between his legs, so she was pressed against the full length of him, chest to chest, hip to hip. The soft places on her easing against all the hard planes of him. It felt remarkably fantastic, and far too perfect. She never wanted to leave, and she had to force herself to relax. She knew what was coming. He’d warned her this was what it was, nothing more. No matter how stunned and replete he looked.
“Hang on a second.” He rose gently, and she slipped off his body. Reaching down into his jeans, he pulled out his cell phone.
“Ah, so you were ready to call the police.”
He grinned. “Of course, but you have no idea how glad I am right now that it was you instead of a thief.”
“Oh, I think I do.”
His grin widened and, reaching behind her, he pulled her ponytail loose. Her hair fell around her face as he pushed a speed dial button.
His eyes never left hers and h
e said into the phone. “Hey, this is Owen. I won’t be in tonight.”
She heard the incredulous tone of the person on the other end of the phone.
“Nope, you handle it.” He disconnected the call and cupped her face. His mouth found hers again and his hand delved into her hair, tugging her head back to get a better angle on her mouth.
She sank into him, her guard dropping a little bit, but not totally.
#
Later they fed the dogs, but left them in Owen’s loft. Ordered dinner in and ate and laughed and made love again.
Her hair fell forward as he brought her mouth to his. “Owen, I want to feel your weight on me.”
It caught his heart the way she said his name. It was deep and intimate. Callie was so true to herself, so open and sweet. She couldn’t be anything else, and he wouldn’t want it any other way. He shifted them both to their sides, paused there for a moment, kissed her, then moved the rest of the way, sinking deeply into her as she lifted up and wrapped her legs around his hips.
And he held her gaze in between long, slow kisses, moving inside of her, feeling her match his steady rhythm as easily as if they’d done this for centuries. He finally slid his arm beneath her, tilted her hips up that extra bit, so he could sink a tiny bit deeper, reach that spot he already knew was there, the one that made her gasp and tighten around him convulsively. The one he knew would take them both over the edge, as he looked into her eyes. “Callie…”
And those green windows to her soul grew shuttered then, at that one hoarsely uttered whisper. And it didn’t scare him so much as hurt him. Because it felt like she was his, dammit, and it made him sick to think he might do something, say something to hurt her, and the look in her eyes confirmed it. Even though they both knew the reality of what they were doing to each other. Even as she pushed him over the edge. And where it would leave them.
Chapter Seven
“You what?” Brooke’s eyes narrowed, and she set down her martini on the polished marble surface of the bar at Colton’s, an upscale Manhattan restaurant. They were out for Brooke’s twenty-seventh birthday, and they had all ramped up their fashion game. The dark grey dress Brooke wore was typically conservative, but did have a flare of interest with the beads on the neckline, sleeves and hem. Brooke’s dark hair was pulled into a severe bun.
