When I don’t think I can handle the electricity vibrating between us a moment longer, the doors open. I rush off the elevator as if I’m being chased by a serial killer.
If Callum finds my behavior strange, he doesn’t say anything, maintaining a comfortable distance between us as we walk down the carpeted hallway.
With every step we take, the more I begin to regret my decision to stay here. I should have run a quick search to see if there were any other rooms available, even if it was at some cheap motel that reeks of stale smoke. Not agree to stay in a gorgeous hotel that screams sophistication and romance.
Approaching our room, Callum unlocks the door and holds it open, allowing me to enter in front of him, my surroundings just as luxurious as I imagined they would be.
After draping my coat over a chair, my eyes fixate on the king-size bed with its pristine white duvet and fluffy pillows. Images of my body tangled with Callum’s fill my head. His rough hands exploring every inch of me. His unshaven jawline scraping on my thighs. His strong physique pressing me into the mattress as he thrusts in and out, giving me more pleasure than I’ve experienced in years.
“You okay?” His voice cuts through my fantasies, reminding me of his presence.
As if I need a reminder.
“Of course.” I whirl around, attempting to pull myself together.
The way he looks at me makes that damn near impossible, especially when I notice him glance at my chest and lick his lips before returning his eyes to mine. It’s obvious he’s struggling with whatever this is between us as much as I am. It’s just a matter of who’s going to break first.
“Do you want to go to the bar?” I ask quickly, moving as far away from him and the bed as I can. “I could use a drink. Would you like a drink? I could use a drink.”
“Could you now?” he retorts, obviously amused by my nervous rambling.
I draw in a deep breath in an attempt to settle my nerves, although I doubt even the most calming of breathing exercises will help subdue the butterflies flapping their wings in my stomach.
Or the fact that my libido is currently doing a series of stretches, assuming she’ll finally get the release she’s been craving.
“Since we can’t get back to Sycamore Falls tonight, I may as well take advantage of my time here and check out their bar. Do some research on how I can improve my offerings at Holley Ridge next year.”
“Of course. For research,” he replies, not bringing up the fact that he’ll most likely own the property next year.
“Exactly.” I hold my head high, shoulders squared. “For research.”
“Then, let’s go research, Parker.”
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
CALLUM
Thank fuck Parker asked to go to the bar.
Since learning we’ll be sharing a room with just one bed, I’ve been desperate for something to help me relax. As it was, that elevator ride nearly killed me. It took every ounce of resolve I possessed not to push her against the wall and finally taste those lips I’ve been fantasizing about since I first laid eyes on her.
But the second I walked into that room, my fantasies became even more erotic, filled with all the things I’d love to do to Parker in that luxurious bed. All the pleasure I’d love to rip from her.
I needed to get out of there before I did something I’d regret. Before I crossed the line that’s become more blurry with every passing day.
One thing is certain. Tonight is going to be a test of willpower.
One I may not pass.
Thankfully, this bar has a great selection of scotch to settle my nerves. And the wine has helped Parker relax, too. She’s shared more memories of growing up at Holley Ridge and her relationship with Grandma Estelle, who I’ve learned technically isn’t even a grandmother. Everyone in town simply calls her that because she’s become a fixture at Holley Ridge, having taught many of the locals how to ride a horse.
I knew she was rather eccentric, but some of the stories Parker has shared have made my stomach hurt from laughing so much, especially when I learned of Grandma Estelle’s unique taste in books, including alien and monster erotica.
“So tell me about you,” Parker says after a while. “I’ve been blabbering on about myself. I’ve barely let you say more than a few words.”
“I don’t mind.” I lift my glass to my mouth and take a small sip. “I like listening to you talk.”
And watching her mouth move. And imagining those bright red lips moving over other parts of my body.
