Her eyes shine, but she doesn’t look away.“You’re like a tourniquet to stop the bleeding.”
“I know.”
“And I’m choosing you anyway.”
Something inside him loosens.Something dangerous.All she wants is sex, but a part of him wants so much more.
Callum crosses the room slowly, giving her time to step back if she wants to.She doesn’t.She stands her ground, chin lifted, shoulders squared, not defensive, just honest.
He stops in front of her, close enough to feel her warmth.
“This is the part where I should say we can wait,” he admits.
She exhales shakily.“And this is the part where I tell you I don’t want to.”
He nods once.“All right.”
He lifts his hand, pauses, and waits.
Isla answers by placing her palm over his wrist, guiding his hand to her waist.Her touch is steady, intentional.Consent made visible.
Callum’s breath leaves him slowly.For days, he’s dreamed of them together.Naked and willing and tangled in each other’s arms.
His mouth descends, and he can’t help himself.“Last chance to say no.”
“Shut up and fuck me,” she whispers.
Desire riddles him like bullet holes, and he kisses her like he never intends to leave.Which is what he’s been thinking of.They’re both damaged, and they could heal one another.
Her lips part beneath his, and she leans into him, not collapsing, not clinging, meeting him halfway.When his arms come around her, she exhales against his mouth, a sound that goes straight through him.
God.
He has wanted her since the first day he saw her, but this, this isn’t want.
This is something deeper.Something that scares him.
He breaks the kiss first, forehead resting against hers, breathing her in.
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmurs again.
She shakes her head.“Tell me if you plan to leave.”
The question cuts.
“I won’t,” he says immediately.Then, more carefully, “Not tonight.Not like this.”
How can he promise her anything when his own life is in such turmoil?
She nods, accepting the honesty.
They move together toward the bed, not in a rush, not avoiding the moment either.Isla sits on the edge first, hands braced beside her, watching him like she’s memorizing this version of him, unguarded, stripped of roles.
Callum kneels in front of her without thinking.
The position feels right.Intentional.
He rests his hands on her knees, grounding himself there, anchoring the moment.
