AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’ve been busy,” he says, throwing up his hands when that draws an unladylike snort from me. “It’s true. I’m not trying to make excuses. I don’t have a good excuse.”
“You’re telling me.”
“I thought about you,” he says, dropping his hands. “I’ve thought about you and Raleigh all week. About us.”
“You’ve got one hell of a way of showing it.” I cross my arms. I don’t even know what I want him to say, but I’m not feeling forgiving right this minute.
West is silent for a long moment.
“I need you, Callie,” he says. “You and Raleigh.”
“Then why didn’t you call?”
“I tried calling you both tonight. His phone went straight to voicemail and I don’t know where he lives. So I came here.”
He might be telling the truth. Hell, he’s probably telling the truth. I have a bad habit of plugging in my phone to charge while it’s on silent. And Weston Thorpe is many things, but I’ve never known him to be a liar.
“You can’t disappear like that,” I say, feeling my anger shift a little. Heat coils low in my belly. “You can’t just… drop us like that. Like it doesn’t matter.”
“You matter,” says West. There’s a wealth of feeling in those two words, and hope flares inside me.
“I know you’re busy at work,” I admit. West looks surprised by the concession. “You forget I’ve known you a long time. I don’t know much about what you do, but I grew up around Thorpe Industries.”
“Then you know how my family is,” he says tightly. “If they find out about us—”
“I won’t tell them if you don’t.”
West laughs. The sound is pained, sharp. The anger in me shifts again; something hurt him.
“Callahan,” he says. It’s almost an order. My body responds immediately, which is annoying. I wonder if it’ll always be like that; West wants me: cue arousal. Pavlov’s theory in action.
I narrow my eyes as he moves closer.
“What do you think you’re doing?” The counter bites into my palms as I bear down, the pain doing nothing to diminish the heat mounting between us.
“You tell me,” he says, coming close and dipping his head until our lips just barely meet. Not kissing, not breathing. Just waiting.
This time his hand catches my wrist before the slap makes contact. I can feel his sharp-edged smile against my skin as my breath hitches. West squeezes my wrist. Hard.
“There you are,” he murmurs. He bends his knees and slides up, our bodies in full contact. West slides a hand around my waist, cresting over my ass and gripping me, moving against me firmly, making me gasp.
“Get off me,” I say. He ignores it, thank Christ, hitching me up against his body and carrying me out of the kitchen. I thrash with all my might, not holding back. All the anger and frustration and sadness and goddamned emptiness of this week makes me wild. We make it halfway down the narrow hallway before he sets me back on my feet and shoves me up against the wall, knocking the breath out of me. His hands are everywhere, pulling at my clothes. Something rips and I couldn’t care less. I’m fighting him for all I’m worth, shoving and pushing and trying to get away, even if getting away is the last thing I want.
He lets me. He lets me fight and push and shove and swear and he takes it and takes it and takes it, all the while stripping me down. Soon we’re both gasping for breath and my clothes are in a heap, trapping my ankles. I try to kick my way free and West takes advantage of my distraction, hoisting me back up against the wall, pinning me in place with his weight. I can’t draw a full breath and if he moves in just the right way, I could come just like this, with him fully dressed and only fighting for foreplay.
West is two steps ahead of me, though. Binding my wrists over my head with one strong hand, West works his way between our bodies and opens his pants. I writhe away from him as hard as I can, but with my feet off the floor, I don’t get far. Between my squirming and his determination, his thick cock slides up between my legs, poised right where I want him most. West leans into me hard, pinning me still, and I start to shake with need.
“Tell me to stop,” he mutters. He rocks his hips forward and back, the tip of him kissing the folds of my body.
“No.”
“Tell me.” His voice is urgent. This isn’t part of the game. I realize what he’s not saying.
He’s not wearing a condom.
I’ve been on the pill for years for reasons besides birth control. We’ve never had that talk.
“No.” I say it again, letting him see my defiance.
