She cocked one brow, the expression on her face easy to read. Prove it.
“You’ve got to see how much I want you.”
“Appearances can be deceiving. She threw the words out casually, but the skin at the base of her throat pulsed fast, powered by the beat of her heart.
He wanted to kiss her there. To suck her skin into his mouth until he’d marked it.
“Come on.” He breathed in and out, but he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. “It’s bleeding out of my fucking pores. You’re all I think about.”
Her gaze went hot, her eyes shining with desire. She reached for him.
It took every bit of his self-control not to pull her close. He wouldn’t screw her in the interrogation room like a one-night stand.
“But…” She swallowed.
“Oh, we’re doing this.” The words came out easily, belying their far-reaching implications.
She would burn away his self-control—the fortress he’d spent years of painstaking effort building between himself and his emotions. She was already doing it. There was a hole in the load-bearing wall, but he couldn’t make himself care that the whole damn thing was about to collapse.
He had to know what it would feel like to have her. To blaze hot and out of control. Otherwise, he’d spend his whole life wondering.
If he was lucky, the fire would clear his head like a controlled burn, and he could slowly regrow his life in the aftermath of the destruction. If not…
It didn’t matter. Not with Liv in front of him, looking at him like he was her whole world. He had to have her, no matter what the consequences.
“We’re doing this,” he said, again. “But not here.”
*
“You’re being totally unreasonable.” Liv gave Caleb what was supposed to be a sexy smile, except it probably looked closer to pissed off, because she’d waited an hour for the open house to end, expecting him to drag her straight back to his bedroom, and where did he want to go? Baker Street Bistro, where they served five-course tasting menus that lasted a minimum of three hours. “Neither of us is hungry.”
“That’s not the point.” Caleb’s jaw ticked like a metronome. And yet, he seemed unaware of the tension he was carrying, or he surely wouldn’t have suggested five courses of truffles and foie gras before they got to the stress-relief portion of the evening.
“Then what is the point?” she asked.
“This is what people do when they’re dating. They go out to dinner. They have conversations. I’m not going to skip straight to the sex like you’re a one-night stand. I know this isn’t forever, but that doesn’t mean I would treat you with that kind of disrespect.”
The warm and fuzzy feeling she’d gotten from you’re-not-a-one-night-stand was cut off by the this-isn’t-forever chaser.
She took a moment to center herself. Of course Caleb wasn’t about to propose marriage. They hadn’t even had sex.
The Annabelle voice in her head said that not being quite ready to pop the question wasn’t the same as going into a relationship knowing it was short term, but Liv had years of practice ignoring her older sister. “Tell you what. We’ll go back to your place, work up an appetite, and then you can take me to dinner.”
He folded his arms across his chest, leaned back against the door of his SUV, and regarded her with hooded eyes. “Dinner first.”
He wasn’t even touching her, but she felt him. All over. How was it possible for him to look so sexy next to the vehicle that had the top National Transportation Safety Board ranking in its class?
She swallowed. “Okay. Dinner first. But I get to pick the restaurant.”
*
Caleb should have known Liv was up to something. He would have figured it out sooner, except she’d been looking at him from under those mile-long lashes, a half smile on her face like she was imagining what was going to happen after dinner, and his brain has short circuited. So he had no one to blame but himself for the fact that Liv was leading him through the door of Luigi’s Pizza by the Slice.
She sashayed toward the counter, her teasing smile telling him she knew exactly what she’d done. “Smells good, doesn’t it?”
It smelled amazing, but that wasn’t the point. “You knew I meant a real restaurant.”
“Are you telling me Luigi’s is a figment of my imagination? Because if I don’t get a cheese slice, I might cry.”
“A restaurant where you sit down at the table and someone comes to take your order.”
“What can I get you?” The bored kid at the register recited the line like he’d already said it a few thousand times that day.
“What do you know?” Liv whispered. “Someone wants to take our order.” Then, louder, “I’ll have two cheese slices and a Peroni. And whatever he wants.”
“The same.” Caleb got out his wallet before she tried to pay too.
The cheese pie had just come out of the oven, so they didn’t even have to wait for the slices to be warmed. The kid handed them their food on paper plates the grease was already seeping through.
They settled in the closest booth. The bench seats were upholstered in cracking red vinyl, and there were crumbs on the table.
Liv took a napkin from the metal dispenser and swept the surface clean. “There. Perfect.”
It was about as far from a perfect first date as Caleb could imagine. Then Liv bit into her first slice. She closed her eyes and made a noise of pleasure deep in her throat, and just like that he was back in the interrogation room, his lips on hers.
He blinked, coming back to himself, but he was already hard as a rock. Thank God he didn’t have to wait for four more courses. He started on his pizza, eating quickly and mechanically, because he couldn’t taste a thing.
“Livvy? Caleb? We weren’t expecting to see the two of you.”
And there went his erection.
He turned toward Papa and Mamma Voretti, who were heading his way, big smiles on their faces even though he’d taken their youngest child to dinner at a place with a neon sign that advertised a slice of cheese pizza for $1.99.
“Hey, Big Spender.” Papa Voretti chuckled. “I’m glad you’re treating our daughter right.”
The half slice of pizza he’d eaten expanded into a concrete block inside his stomach. “We were going to a real restaurant, but…” He realized what the end of that sentence was going to sound like, and decided the better of it.
“Not to worry, figlio.” Mamma Voretti patted his arm. “We know what it’s like to be young. You want to get the dinner out of the way so you can be alone together.”
Papa Voretti’s bushy brows shot toward the ceiling, and Caleb remembered the rumors about Annabelle’s hasty wedding. Rumors involving Papa Voretti and a SIGM400 Predator.
“I don’t want to be alone with Liv,” he assured the man.
“Is there something wrong with our Olivia?”
“No! That wasn’t what I… Of course I want to spend time with her. But only in the most polite, respectful way.”
Papa Voretti chuckled. “You worry too much. We trust you. Now, in case you were wondering, Francesca and I have had a long day. After we finish our pizza, we’re going to bed. And we’re going to sleep very late tomorrow morning. So late, we’ll have no idea when Olivia comes home tonight.” He winked. “Or if she comes home at all.”
Caleb knew he needed to say something, but he couldn’t get his brain to make the words. And then Papa and Mamma Voretti had gone to the counter to pick up their to-go pie. They waved as they walked out the door, and Caleb’s brain finally switched back on. Right in time to tell him how bad he’d messed up.
He chugged half his beer, but it didn’t help. Sure, Papa Voretti was giving him the green light to get it on with his daughter, but only because he thought Liv and Caleb were in a serious relationship. The kind that led toward a big church wedding attended by the entire family. If he had any idea what was really going on, he’d kill Caleb. And then disown him.
But even t
he prospect of losing the closest thing he had to family wasn’t enough to change Caleb’s mind. Liv was like a drug. She made him do things he’d never even consider otherwise. He knew the consequences would catch up with him eventually, but for now, he didn’t care about anything but the high.
He tried for a laugh. “Am I imagining things, or is your dad trying to get us in bed?”
Liv rolled her eyes. “They could at least pretend to be concerned about my virtue. When my dad caught Annabelle in bed with Ty, he threatened to shoot him if he didn’t propose.”
“That was true?”
“But me? They’re so happy I’m dating a homeowner with a respectable job, they’re practically begging me to procreate. Be sure not to let my mom into your bedroom unsupervised. She’d probably poke holes in all your condoms.”
Caleb choked on his beer. “You’re on birth control, right?”
“Of course.” Her eyes flashed with hurt. “Give me a little credit.”
Shit. “I’m sorry. I’ve never done anything like this before, and I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“You’re letting yourself be free. Doing what feels good.”
“I guess it freaked me out to see your parents.” He tried for a smile. “You know, we wouldn’t have run into them at Baker Street Bistro.”
Liv laid a hand over his, which was crumpling a grease-stained napkin. “I’m sorry about dinner, okay? Next time we’ll go to Baker Street.” Her eyes went wide. “I mean…you know. If there is a next time.”
“Why wouldn’t there be a next time?” He cursed himself even as the words came out of his mouth. They both knew this was temporary. Only bad things would come of pretending otherwise.
“Let me make it up to you,” Liv said.
“Nothing to make up,” he answered, gruffly. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m not worried.” Her smile was full of trouble. “I just thought it might be fun to make it up to you in bed.”
*
Caleb was all about the truth. His job was to sift through evidence—DNA, forensics, the testimony of witnesses who could be confused, scared, or out-and-out lying. He picked out the pieces that were real and strung them together so they told a coherent story.
The trick was to remain objective. To stand right outside, where he had a clear view in.
So as he drove Liv to his house, he turned up the music, letting it build a wall between the two of them. Taking her back to his place wasn’t the smartest decision he’d ever made. Except “decision” implied there was a choice, and he had to be with Liv. But he also needed to be honest with himself about where their relationship was going.
Nowhere. They burned too hot to last for long.
He pulled into the driveway.
He’d resurfaced the cement a couple of weeks ago, and now his SUV glided smoothly up the grade. Too smoothly. It was something he could imagine himself doing every night—driving to this house with Liv in the passenger’s seat. But he couldn’t allow himself the luxury of that fantasy. Not even the house was his for the long term, much less the woman.
He cut the engine and opened his door. “Don’t move.” His voice came out rusty, but Liv must’ve gotten the gist of it, because she waited in her seat as he jogged around the SUV and opened her door.
Her forehead wrinkled, like she was trying to puzzle something out. “Did I dream that, or did you really open my door.”
She smelled like some exotic flower that only bloomed at midnight at the heart of the rainforest, and he tried not to breathe deeply. It would be too easy to get addicted. “Shut up, or I’m going to carry you inside.”
“Go ahead and try it.” Her smile was an invitation he couldn’t refuse.
He moved in carefully, but while he was distracted by those teasing lips, she ducked under his arm. She raced toward the house. She wasn’t moving fast—she was laughing too hard—but he let her win. He liked watching her.
She reached the porch and turned back to face him. All her laughter stopped the second she saw his expression. She turned it right back on him. Hot. Intent. Hungry.
He focused on the tasks at hand. Climbing the stairs to the porch in slow, deliberate steps. Getting out his keys. Unlocking the door—easier said than done with Liv’s back against the heavy oak panel, so close he felt her heat. Still, he didn’t let himself touch her. Not yet.
The lock disengaged with a click. He twisted the knob.
Liv backed into the house. It was dark and cool inside. The smell of paint from the walls he’d touched up last night was gone, replaced with Liv’s scent.
His vision went hazy. He wanted her. Tonight. Tomorrow. All the days that came after that.
Just for now.
He heaved in a breath, but all he could smell was Liv. Not only her perfume, but her skin. He followed her down the hall to his bedroom.
She sat on his bed. She’d lost her sandals somewhere along the way, and she kicked her bare feet back and forth, showing him the long, lean length of her legs. Each toenail was a different color, from apple green to cherry red. He wanted a taste. He wanted to kiss his way from those toes to her lips, but his control was already wavering.
“Kiss me,” she said.
He couldn’t deny her. Not when she was looking at him with wild, hot eyes, like she already knew how it would feel when he was inside her.
He stepped between her open thighs. Kissed her, soft and gentle, because he had to stay in control. If he didn’t…
She made a noise deep in her throat.
Desire rushed through him, a giant wave that drowned his better sense. He kissed her and kissed her, deep and messy and reckless. Laid her down onto the mattress, his body coming over hers the way he’d imagined so many times.
She fit him the way no one ever had. The way he’d been searching for all his life.
He tried to pull back mentally, to regain some perspective, but it was impossible when his lips were tracing that soft skin at the base of her throat. When she made that noise that told him exactly how much she loved what he was doing.
Just for now, he reminded himself, but it sounded more like a question than a statement.
She tugged at his shirt. His body tightened viciously. He sat up, pulling the shirt off himself, because he couldn’t wait for her.
She stared at his chest. “Damn, Caleb. You’re so…” The heat in her gaze told him all he needed to know about how that sentence ended.
He got her clothes off, despite her overly enthusiastic help. His pants were harder, because the zipper was stuck. Or maybe because his hands were shaking.
Her skin was soft and hot and full of life. He ran one hand down her arm, careful not to get too close to the gorgeous swell of her breast, because if he did…
Liv grabbed his hand. Brought it right to the place he’d been trying to stay away from.
The weight of her in his palm made his head spin. She arched into his touch like she needed more. Closer. Deeper.
He’d never kissed anyone the desperate way he kissed her, but it still wasn’t enough. It wasn’t ever going to be enough, because the closer he got, the more he needed.
She writhed against him, and his body knew exactly what to do. He had her on her back in a second.
Just for now.
“Mine.” He groaned the word against her lips, kissing her so hard and deep she couldn’t reply.
She didn’t have to, because her body conformed to his, giving him exactly what he wanted. Giving him everything.
She said something, but it took him a moment to process the word because his brain was more interested in the husky timbre of her voice. “Condom.”
That was a brilliant idea. He fumbled in the bedside drawer, finally making contact with one of the packets.
She arched up to him. Grabbed his hair. Pain stung his scalp, but then she kissed him and all he knew was need.
Condom. He had to get the condom on.
He ripped the package open and rolled the condom on.
Even inside its latex prison, his dick was hard and desperate. He forced in a breath. He had to slow down, or this was going to be over before it started.
He kissed Liv, slow and gentle. Drew his lips down her throat, lingering where her pulse beat hard and fast. Her skin was soft. So soft it reminded him exactly how hard he was.
He kissed his way lower. When he took her nipple into his mouth, she bit her lip, making a soft sound that destroyed him. She sounded like he felt. Desperate. Pushed to her limits.
He moved lower. Parted her legs and tasted her where she was sweetest.
She arched off the bed. He grew impossibly harder, a groan tearing from his lips.
“Please, Caleb.”
The need in her voice short-circuited the part of his brain capable of logic. There was only heat and urgency.
His body took over, bearing her down. Getting as close as he could without actually being inside her.
He entered her as slowly as he could stand. Despite the condom, he could feel how hot she was. How tight.
“God.” Her legs locked around his waist, bringing him deeper. “Caleb.”
He kissed her, penetrating her mouth with his tongue, because he needed to be inside her in every way possible.
Fuck, she was perfect—the way she clamped tight around him, like she’d never let him go. He’d been waiting for this forever. His entire life.
Pleasure crawled up his spine. His balls tightened, and he clenched all his muscles, desperate not to lose it without her.
Just for now, said the voice in his head, but it was soft. Barely a whisper.
She tightened around him, crying out, and the pleasure took over, drowning that small, uncertain voice with a shout. Mine. Forever.
CHAPTER 17
LIV HAD THOUGHT she knew what sex was all about. After all, she’d been practicing since she was fifteen. But sex with Caleb was different than anything she’d ever experienced. She’d never imagined the pure, intense pleasure he’d given her. The sense of connection.
Afterward, she’d fallen asleep in his arms, her mind empty of everything but a fuzzy sort of happiness. And the strangest part? That blissful feeling hadn’t disappeared when she woke up. It stuck around, making her smile at the oddest times, like when she was basting seams or cleaning questionable substances off the floor at Hannigan’s. It made the whole world brighter. He had given her a gift, and she meant to return the favor.
Pretty in Ink (Voretti Family Book 3) Page 15
