Page 93 of Fall into Place

Sleeping with Tess was different. Not just because of her past—Callum was no stranger to navigating a woman’s triggers, noticing her responses if something he’d done caused discomfort and changing course to give them both a better experience. He’d expected this from Tess; after what she told him, he thought their first time would be stop and start, cautiously moving from one moment to the next, ever watchful for the one where she’d get upset or change her mind.

But Tess was so tender with him, so open. Every new place he kissed her, every new sound she made, new shock of pleasure or gasp of delight, all of it felt like discovering something holy.

He wanted to take this first time slowly, but once she took off her dress, she was tearing at his clothes, then pulling him into her bed, smiling and bright, her pale skin luminescent in the Isle’s lavender morning light. He knew she wanted to have sex, but he worried about the pain he might cause—physical or otherwise.

“Are you sure?” he asked, poised above her. She pulled him down to kiss him, and he felt his skin melt against hers, her flesh even warmer and softer than he’d dreamed it.

“I’m ready,” she whispered. When he moved inside her, she made the smallest, most exquisite noise; her cheeks were flushed, her hips moved against him, all of it was so tense and perfect he thought he might lose his mind. He made himself go slowly, refusing to prioritize his needs over hers, but when she wrapped her legs around his back and moaned out more, he let himself move the way he wanted to, faster, deeper, always closer to her, always together.

He didn’t want her to feel pressure to come—and he certainly didn’t want her to feel like she was letting him down if she didn’t. But when he moved his fingers between her legs as he fucked her and she shook and cried out against him, he felt a surge of gratitude for this woman, how vulnerable she’d been with him, how close he felt to her. He let himself finish too, and they collapsed under the covers, affable and sweaty and cool beneath the heavy blankets.

“Callum, I’m so happy,” she murmured. He loved the weight of her head against his chest, the vibration of her voice thrumming through him, his blood still buzzing from the intensity of being together.

“You should always be this happy.” He sighed. “The entire bloody world should rearrange itself by any means necessary to accommodate your complete and constant happiness.”

“So you’re saying we’re never leaving this bed?”

“I’m game if you are.”

She laughed softly and repositioned herself against him, then let out a little yawn.

“Are you tired, sweet?”

“No,” she pouted. “I mean, yeah. Very.”

“Then sleep.” He kissed her hair and gently rubbed her arm.

Even after a long night’s rest, he was tired too. Between the severity of his injury and the relief of the recovery process, the emotional experience of hearing Tess’s story, and the incredible release of being with her physically, the last few days had taken a toll on him. But he stayed awake to watch her fall asleep, to feel her breath become heavy as her body rose and fell against his. Her sleeping face looked so peaceful and relaxed, so utterly content. In more than a hundred years, he wasn’t sure he’d seen anything so beautiful.

Chapter 23

Text message transcript: Joni Chaudhari and Octavia Yoo

Octavia [1:49 PM]: Are you at the townhouse yet? How’s everything going?

Joni [1:52 PM]: Just got out of the subway, be there in a sec

Octavia [1:53 PM]: What do you see? Spare no detail!

Joni [1:54 PM]: It’s just some regular fancy-ass neighborhood! I promise I’ll text as soon as I know anything. Don’t make me regret getting you a burner.

Octavia [1:55 PM]: Ooh you’re being such a top, I love it.

Octavia [1:55 PM]: Pip pip! Radio silence from now on. x

Octavia [2:58 PM]: All right, enough of that, dying for news. Any word? Are you with Lirio?

Octavia [3:27 PM]: Really, still nothing? Just cruel at this point.

Octavia [4:41 PM]: Starting to worry. Pls let me know all is well.

Octavia [5:26 PM]: Just tried calling, straight to voicemail. Did your phone die? What’s going on?

By six o’clock, Octavia was becoming seriously concerned. Joni was one of the most communicative people she’d ever met—often annoyingly so. There was no way she’d disappear for an entire afternoon without telling Octavia why. But until the sun set, there wasn’t a damn thing Octavia could do about it, so she paced the hotel room and waited, finishing off the cow’s blood Joni had brought her, trying to focus on whatever was on TV and largely failing.

Finally, at 6:47, a text came through:

We have Joni. Come to the townhouse.