“They’re ugly,” I muttered as I tried to find my shirt.
“Don’t,” Cal said, stopping my hand. His voice was firm but gentle. “Can I?”
I swallowed hard, my heart hammering against my ribs. I nodded.
Cal reached out. His fingers were calloused and rough from years of gripping ropes, but his touch was feather light. He traced the ridges of the scar tissue.
He pressed his lips to the scar. Each one of them. Gentle, lingering kisses right over the source of my deepest shame and hurt.
Tears pricked my eyes instantly. It was forgiveness. It was him telling me, without words, that the injury didn’t matter to him anymore. The past didn’t matter.
He pulled away and looked at me, noticing the tears immediately.
“Baby…” he said, his voice low enough that only the two of us could hear.
He came back to me and kissed my lips with the same gentleness. But I couldn’t handle gentle right now. I deepened the kiss immediately. I wanted him. I fuckingneededhim. And part of me didn’t even care if people were around. I’d waited years for this. I wanted Cal to fuck me, and he knew it too.
He crowded me against the wall, the kiss getting deeper, more frantic, desperate. I gripped his shoulders, melting into him. For a few seconds, the sound of the locker room faded into white noise. It was just us.
Bang!
Someone banged on the stall door next to us.
We froze.
Cal pulled back, chest heaving. A smirk played on his lips, recognizing the thrill. He squeezed my hips hard, dropped a quick kiss on my jaw, and slipped back out before anyone could notice.
“Okay,” Cal whispered as he unlocked the hotel room door. “She said she was going to shower and relax. I saw her room service cart outside. We should have an hour before she gets bored and wants company.”
We stumbled inside, abandoning logic and bags at the door. Cal pushed me onto the bed and crawled over me, his weight heavy and grounding.
“I need you,” he groaned as he bit my neck hard enough I knew there’d be a mark later. “God, I fucking need to be inside of you.”
My hands were already tugging at his jeans, fumbling with the button. I was hungry. It had been seven fucking years. Sure, I got to fuck Cal last night, but him, fucking me? That was entirely different. That was all I wanted, and I was fucking dying waiting for it.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
We froze. We looked to each other with wide, panicked eyes.
“Cal? Are you in there? My Netflix isn’t working! Can I use yours?”
Lena. Of course it was.
Cal collapsed onto my chest, letting out a long, defeated groan that vibrated through my ribs.
“I hate everything,” he mumbled into my neck. “Have I mentioned that before?”
He rolled off, standing up and adjusting his pants to hide the very obvious hard-on. I watched him switch modes instantly. The lust vanished, replaced by a patient, protective energy. It was total “Dad mode.”
And fuck, I think I found that sexy too.
He opened the door casually, like he wasn’t just seconds away from fucking me into the mattress without a second thought or regard for anything.
“Hey kid,” Cal said, leaning against the door frame to block her view of the disheveled bed. I quickly sat down in the small chair near the loveseat, attempting to seem casual. “You can use mine, if you want to.”
“I tried to watch that old wrestling documentary Evan likes, but it was so boring! Can we watch something together instead? We haven’t caught up onThe Summer I Turned Prettyyet!”
She said it with the enthusiasm of someone far younger. Even though Lena was twenty-one and wrestled like a seasoned vet in the ring, her heart still seemed to be that of a teenage girl. It made me understand why Cal was so protective of her. Because honestly, I probably would shred any of those pricks in the locker room if they tried to fuck with her.
