“Callan,” I gasp, my free hand clutching at the sheets. “I’m close…”
His palm stills. “Let go, Sunshine. I want to see you come undone for me.”
His voice is a velvet command that unravels me completely. I fall apart under his gaze, wave after wave of pleasure washing over me as my body trembles. I can’t hold back the cry that escapes my lips, my hips bucking against my hand as the orgasm crashes through me.
As I slowly come back to myself, I become acutely aware of Callan’s presence. He moves toward me then, lowering himself to the bed and pulling me into his arms. His lips brush gently against my forehead, my cheeks, and then, finally, my lips.
“That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he murmurs, his accent thicker than I’ve heard it before.
“Wait, what about?—”
My hand reaches for him, but he catches it, bringing my fingers to his lips instead. “Don’t worry about me,” he interrupts. “That was for you.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Very chivalrous of you.”
His grin is wicked. “I am Scottish. We invented chivalry, didn’t we?”
“Pretty sure that was the French,” I mutter.
He gives an exaggerated gasp. “Lies. Slander. You’re lucky I like you.”
“Like me?” I tease, nudging him with my foot. “After all that? Just like?”
That deep, rumbling laugh escapes him, wrapping around me like a warm blanket. “Fine. I’m utterly ruined for anyone else.”
“Better,” I whisper, right before his mouth finds mine again, soft and unhurried, like he’s not trying to spark a fire but steady the one that’s already burning between us.
When I finally press into his chest, flushed and breathless, he wraps me up without hesitation, tucking me under his chin like I’m his favorite thing he’s ever held.
twelve
CALLAN
Bree stayed the night, and I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. Her smooth, bare legs are peeking out from under the sheets. She’s wearing my shirt and nothing else. It’s damn near killing me how she looks so soft and completely at ease, curled up in the quiet morning light. I should be embarrassed, watching her like a creep. But I can’t help myself.
I kept my distance last night, though. I didn’t want to freak her out or mess up whatever this is between us. So, I stayed on the edge of the bed, practically hanging off it like a damn acrobat while I let her have her space and find comfort in her own time. Now it’s late morning, and she’s still out cold.
Bree. The woman who’s usually buzzing around, talking a mile a minute, always on the go, acting like she’s got somewhere more important to be, snoozing like she hasn’t got a single worry in the world. It’s almost as if the universe hit the pause button on her for once.
Last night definitely didn’t go like I thought it would, but that’s not a bad thing. It was vulnerable. Real. And if there’sone thing I know, it’s that having her trust me is worth more than any impulsive moment of lust.
Not that I don’t want that, too. Hell, I want it more than my next breath.
But watching her and reallyseeingher struggle? It actually fucking wrecked me. Bree, who’s always so strong, so ready to face everything with a smile or a joke, struggling in a way I can’t even begin to understand… All I wanted was to make it better for her. I would’ve done anything to take away her hurt, even if it was just for a second. I would’ve taken on the world if it meant she didn’t have to carry that weight anymore.
My whole life, I’ve been the one who steps outside the lines. Always looking for something to break the monotony, always pushing myself a little further than I probably should. It’s like I can’t sit still, so I fill the space with distractions. Sometimes, I wonder if I’ve been doing it just to avoid feeling too much. I always seem to find myself testing my own limits.
Knox was always the protector growing up. The steadfast one who always had his shit together. Lucy was sweetness personified. And then there was me. The wildcard. I was barely three when Dad passed, so I don’t remember much about him. What I do remember is Mum and Knox, and the way they struggled to keep it all together.
So, I did my own thing. Always have. It’s easier than dealing with the unspoken stuff.
But with Bree? It’s different.
The few times I’ve been with her, I haven’t craved the chaos. And that’s what really messes with my head. How many other women have I sat with in hotel rooms, watching rom-coms? Zero. None. With her, I did it without even thinking about it.
Just…being near her is enough. Her presence alone gives me a rush but not the usual adrenaline-fueled kind. I care about her. I want to be her safe place. I find myself simply wanting more ofher. I don’t usually do this…emotional stuff. And that’s what scares the hell out of me.
The sheets rustle, and I glance over in time to see her eyes fluttering open. Most people would call them blue, but they’re not. Not really. They’re the shade of blue you see in the sky right before dusk, shifting with every little emotion and every change in her mood. It’s like her eyes have lived a thousand lives and held a million secrets.
