“Forgive me for bringing this up, but it’s not like you and your father were ever on good terms.”
“So you think I’d just…set fire to my house to metaphorically burn down the man that never did right by me? Jeez. What the hell?” I note Caleb’s pinched eyes and tone down on the defense. “No.”
He searches each of my eyes, but his are unreadable.
He flexes his jaw and stalks closer. Too close. I’m forced to backtrack into my room, but I stop myself before this gets too out of hand. Four more steps and I’ll be flying onto the bed.
We cannot be alone in the bedroom under any circumstance.
I stand still, trying not to choke on the perfect notes of his cologne as he breathes me in. The spiced caramel threatens to intoxicate. So do the eyes that are screaming sex and bad decisions.
His giant hand reaches for mine and I gulp at how weathered and hard the skin there is…
From almost dying.
It’s a high possibility in his line of work. His job isn’t exactly the safest one around.
“You can’t help but think about me,” he says softly.
Darkness creeps in around me. The shadows in his house are begging me to break contact. But I can’t.
Once Pandora’s Box has been opened, there is no going back.
Caleb cages me against the wall, and my back knocks softly against old plastering.
“What?” is just about all I can manage to say. “You’re wrong.”
“Do you think I can’t smell you?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stutter.
“You don’t?” His eyes are like obsidian in the night. “Are you a liar now?”
“No!” I hop back onto the defense.
“Good. Then be honest and acknowledge that you’re wet right now, between your legs.”
Jesus. Where is this come from?
Earlier, Caleb was fighting the urge to give in to temptation. Now he’s pressing me up against an unstable wall and ordering me to admit I want him.
Why?
Did the demons win?
Is he trying to counteract his feelings by tricking himself into giving in?
“I see what your game is. You want me to surrender first.” I look up at him pointedly between the shadows. “You think I’m wet, but Iknowyou’re hard.” I reach between us and run a teasing finger over his erect length. It strains for relief under the confines of his pants. “That doesn’t feel like it’s very comfortable.”
His hand shoots to where I want him most.
Holy. Shit.
My breath hitches. “What are you doing? The kids are downstairs.”
“I’m just trying to work out,” he purrs, “why you’re so desperate to leave my house. Perhaps it’s because you’re worried about what might happen if you stay.”
This isn’t fair.
