CHAPTER THIRTEEN
1 Month Later
The following month is a blur of late nights spent making out, sex, andmore sex. Caleb is ravenous. He warned me he would be, but I didn’t believe it. What straight guy goes from liking girls to taking it up the ass?
No one.
I think I’ve found the exception to the rule.
Of course it would be Caleb.
He’s broken every expectation I’ve had of him. There are some days when I don’t think I can keep up with his sex drive. The first week after staying in the yurt, my entire body ached from the physical exertion of driving into him and maneuvering his muscular body until we both found relief. After a few days of this, he’d caught on to how exhausted I was. He always seems able to read me better than I can read myself. So, the following week, he did all the work. Lifting himself onto me, riding me. I’m not sure what I like more, being in control or watching Caleb get off on using me.
And yet still, I always come back for more.
After an overly long debate meeting, I unlock the front door andwalk into the apartment, immediately spotting the discarded clothes on the floor.
The mess should annoy me, but for some reason, it doesn’t. I’m too enamored with him to let it get to me. I set my keys down and turn to see Caleb leaning back against the couch, completely naked. His muscular thighs are spread wide, his hand slowly stroking his cock, his eyes hooded as he watches me move toward him.
I pretend to be annoyed and arch an eyebrow. He merely strokes himself faster.
“You know, the serious look you’re giving me is only making me hotter,” Caleb says.
My eyebrow lifts higher, and Caleb groans. “What if I’d brought a guest over, Caleb? Is this really the first impression you want to make?”
Caleb smiles at me, and I melt a little inside. Is it possible that he’s gotten even hotter in the past few weeks?
I think it’s entirely possible.
He arches his hips, full-on fucking his fist now. “Come over here, Whit. I’ve been waiting for you. Need you.”
I scoff at how needy he is, but I love it and am already deciding which way I want him. This morning, I took him from behind, his back to my chest, slipping inside of him while he was still half-asleep. The way he moaned, the way his body eagerly took me inside of him.
I know we still don’t know each other that well, but this doesn’t feel fleeting in the way it should.
I want to wake up next to him for the rest of my life.
“You had me this morning.”
“Not enough. Need more. Always more.”
I roll my eyes in faux exasperation, but drop my messenger bag and tug off my shirt and pants as quickly as possible.
And when I enter him, he groans my name. It etches into my brain— the sound of him, the way he looks as he comes.
I’ll never forget this.
I’ll never forget him.
Caleb is dozing on the couch, his head in my lap as the TV plays quietly in the background. I’m not watching it, just watching him. My fingers thread through his tousled hair. It’s longer than it was a month ago. He needs a haircut. Though I do like this as well. More to grab on to when I plow into him.
Fuck. Apparently, I like anything Caleb. He’s made me rethink my entire future.
For the first time, I’ve actively sought other options for my life. I’ve always just moved through my life with a feeling of resignation and hopelessness.
But now I feel brave, courageous.
I feel like maybe things might go my way.
