Page 5 of Dark Savior

“Callan…” she whimpered, tugging me even closer. Her tits heaved, pressing against my chest with every strained breath she took. I kissed her again, my fingers moving faster now, and I swallowed her small cry as she fell apart, dampening her leggings. I growled, wishing I could drop to my knees right there and taste her. Clean her up. Fucking worship her and show her how good it could be for her if she was mine.

I cupped her cheek after, my other hand still around her throat. She opened those pretty, dark eyes, her breaths still panting from her chest. Vulnerability shone in those dark depths, calling to every protective instinct inside of me.

“Be tight-lipped all you want, kitten.” I stroked my thumb over her cheek. “I’ll find out what’s going on. And I’m going to fix it.”

With that, I stepped back from her and grabbed my coffee off the picnic table, heading inside the clubhouse, my cigarette long forgotten. But Rachel had given me the kind of dopamine boost that a cigarette could never even hope of achieving.

3

Callan

I sipped at my beer, the base pounding from the speakers beginning to make my skull throb. I was getting too old for these fucking parties. Too old for the random women always hanging around. Too old for the music with throbbing bass when all I wanted to do was be in bed. Too old for the goddamn dancing.

I was just getting old. And grumpy, too, if my current mood was anything to go by.

At thirty-two, I was just over all this shit.

Didn’t help that the woman I wanted wasn’t in the room. The old Rachel would’ve been out here partying until someone forced her to go home. But tonight, she was holed up in her room, wanting no part of the party that was being thrown for her in celebration of her finally coming home after being away for three entire years.

There was no way in hell she’d changed this damn much in a mere three years. I knew people changed, but this much? She was… mellow. No longer a partier. She even seemed responsible. Maybe this club had been her entire problem when she was younger, and her granddad had been right in taking her away.

I finished off my beer and headed down the hall, intending to go to my room. Maybe I could plug headphones into my ear and drown out the party happening and get some rest. But my feet had a mind of their own and carried me right past my door and all the way down to the last door on the hall.

Rachel’s room.

Something about her had always intrigued me, but she’d been underage and off-limits. Couldn’t touch her back then. Wouldn’t even fuckin’ dream of it, even if the legal age of consent was sixteen. It was wrong and disgusted me.

But now? With all those curves and that sassy don’t-give-a-fuck attitude that she’d mastered over the years? Christ, she was downright perfect.

I knocked lightly on her door, cursing myself after. Because what if she was asleep and I was disturbing her? Then again, how the fuck did she sleep with all this shit happening? Girls laughing way too loud, music thumping too hard, and guys cheering over games of pool and poker.

The door swung inward just as I thought of walking away and leaving her be, and Rachel looked up at me. Only a single lamp was filtering light throughout her room, and it was dim. Yet it was just bright enough to make it look like she was glowing. Her fire red hair had been pulled up into a messy knot on the top of her head, and some strands had fallen out, framing her face.

“Hey,” she rasped, her voice husky.

“You want some company?”

She ran her eyes over me for a moment before stepping aside and letting me into her room. It smelled of weed, and an ashtray sat on her nightstand. The room was still mostly plain, looking just about as it had before she moved in. The only change was the dark purple bedding on her bed and a laundry basket of clothes sitting beside the bathroom door.

“I honestly don’t know why the fuck I had the urge to come bother you,” I admitted, turning to face her once I was in her room and the door was shut behind her, muting the music and racket just a little.

She arched a brow at me and lifted her hand behind her to flip the lock on the door. My cock filled out, pressing against my zipper. A woman only locked the door when a man was in the room for one fuckin’ reason.

She didn’t want us to be disturbed.

I took a step in her direction, watching the way her eyes darkened a shade, nearly turning hers black, and her pupils blew wide to take over her dark irises. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and her nipples were pressing against her shirt.

“Two seconds to unlock that door, or I’m fucking you against it,” I warned her, taking another step closer to her. I was hoping she would be the one between us to have some sense, but I should’ve known that was too much to hope for. Rachel was reckless and a brat through and through. That would never change.

A sexy little devilish smirk tilted her lips. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she taunted.

I circled my hand around her throat, slamming her back against the door. She moaned, her back arching, her pupils fucking blown. I crashed our lips together, devouring her like a man starved. And fuck, I was. I’d been starving for this woman for a long fucking time. Too goddamn long. And now that I could have her, not a single damn thing would be holding me back.

She was mine. And tonight, I was laying claim to her. Fuck how her brother, her parents, or anyone else felt about it. Rachel was grown, and she could make her own decisions and choose who she wanted to be with.

And I was moving in on her before some other piece of shit could even think of doing the same.

“Callan,” she whimpered when I moved my lips along her jaw before sucking at the tender skin right behind her ear. Her fingers fumbled with my belt. “Need. I fucking need,” she panted.