Page 53 of Fallacies

He smirks.

Tightening his grip on my thigh, Callan lifts me off the ground. I hiss at the bite of cold granite against warm skin as he drops me onto the counter and moves to stand between my legs.

I’m burning alive, my skin hot, my internal temperature rising until my clothes feel uncomfortable on my skin. I want to take them off. I want to be closer, and the magic in me wants him just as bad as I do. It’s fighting for attention, forcing its way to the surface.

Callan’s grip tightens on my thighs. His hand snaps to my chin, and it takes all I have not to combust when he finally drags my mouth into his.

The kiss isn’t sweet; it’s ravaging. Borderline angry. It’s probably how he would have kissed me that day he broke down my door if he had just put his pride aside and stopped fighting this…pull between us. But then again, I fought it too.

“Callan.” An inkling of my sanity remains, remembering where we are in the midst of what we are doing.

His only response is a grunt, his hands digging into legs as he presses himself further between them. I’m holding onto the last shred of my sense when his hips roll forward, and a moan slips free.

Shit. No.

“Gemma’s coming over,” I blurt, bracing my hand on the counter behind me, practically panting through the rest of my sentence, “for breakfast. She’ll be here any minute.”

Pressing my palm into his chest, I feel the rapid beat of his heart pounding against it.

Callan pauses, watching me for a moment, darkened eyes dragging down my body.

Then, with one firm shake of his head, he yanks me to the edge of the counter and mutters against my parted lips, “Don’t care.”

I was afraid of that.

“Well, I do,” I tell him, mustering enough self-control to push him back a few inches. His hands flex on the counter in the most impressive display of restraint that I’ve ever seen. “You and I both know she’ll come bounding through the front door, and then I won’t be able to make eye contact with her for days. I’d never hear the end of it.” My gaze drops between us, to where he’s trapped me on the countertop. “Let me down.”

Callan exhales a strained breath—the black of his pupils smothering most of their silver hue. He takes a few more steadying breaths, and I toe the line of a smile, pleased with my effect on him. Catching my amusement, he glares back at me, wordlessly sliding his hand around my waist to help me down.

Sure enough, as soon as I find my footing, Gemma bursts through the front door—exactly like I said she would. She’s wide-eyed and chipper as she strolls into the living room, long legs crossing the space in a few graceful strides.

“Morning!” she sings, blue eyes finding us in the kitchen.

Neither of us responds.

Gemma swings her gaze back and forth between us, her brows furrowing as she senses the tension in the room. Gemma gestures her hand in a wave over the kitchen area, admitting with the scrunch of her nose, “I don’t like the vibes in here.”

“Then leave.”

“No,” I quickly interject, scowling in his direction. “Don’t be a dick.”

Gemma snickers. “Yeah, Callan, don’t be a dick. Having yours out is jarring enough.”

“Gemma!” I snap, but it’s too late.

To my horror and complete embarrassment, Callan doesn’t shrink away; he straightens to his full height. The sensible response would be to hide the very obvious bulge in his jeans, but he doesn’t seem to care. At all.

“It’s my house.” He folds his arms across his chest, and I watch Gemma’s brows raise. “I can have my dick out if I want to.”

I groan, feeling the warmth in my cheeks when I rub my hands over my face. “Please,” I beg them, scrounging up enough confidence to look at Gemma. “Stop talking about dicks.”

She shrugs. “You brought it up.”

“She did, didn’t she?” Callan adds, his grin smug.

They’re both looking at me now, amused at the deepening color in my cheeks. Assholes.

“I said he was being one, not that his—” I snap that statement before it can make this worse, but now they’re both on the verge of laughing, barely holding it in. “You know what I meant,” I try again. Their smiles widen. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter.“