Page 35 of A Courage of the Chosen

I consider him. He’s not an overly talkative guy for the most part. He lets his actions speak for themselves. It would appear that’s not the case for all areas of his life. If he wants me to speak it, to give voice to the way I crave him right now, then so be it.

“You’d find me wet and throbbing. Ready for you.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. I’m aching for you, Cal. I’ve never wanted someone’s touch the way I want yours. Never needed to be filled so desperately.”

His smirk drops, and raw hunger flashes across his face before he controls himself again.

“Good,” he says, snatching a washcloth from the nearby shelf and lathering it with soap. Lifting one foot out of the water, he begins to wash me, moving up my lower leg.

The act isn’t sexual, but there’s a sensuality, an intimacy to it, that makes the blood thrum in my veins and my magic vibrate in my chest. He sits up, lacing his fingers through mine to pull me up as well. He lets go of my hand to wash it, running the cloth up my arm and over my back, massaging in little circles as he goes. When his cloth-bound fingers brush over the scars on my chest from my run-in with the Brollachan on the road to Morven, he traces the puckered skin like they’re his religion, determined to worship them.

Wherever he touches me, it’s too much and not enough at the same time. This side of him doesn’t come out often. In fact, I’ve only seen it once, when I returned from being Tavish’s captive.

He’s soft. Unguarded. Addictive. This is the side of him that I like the most. The one no one else gets to see.

I rest my chin on my knees as he reaches around my back to wash me, reverently moving my hair to each side so he can clean everywhere.

After he’s finished, I hold my hand out for the cloth. He looks at me with a puzzled expression.

“Your turn,” I say.

I lather it with more soap, and keep my eyes focused on his as I start on his chest. There’s a vulnerability to him right now, and it prompts the question: when was the last time someone took care of him? He’s given his life to protecting others, to fighting for Elfayne. How many times in the last century has he taken something for himself, let someone close enough to make sure he was okay?

Shuffling nearer, I decide that I will be that person for him. I will be the harbor in which he’ll be safe from the tides trying to sweep him away. In the same way he’s protected me, I will protect him.

The silence between us grows, and I let my resolve settle in his mind. “You’re safe with me, Callahan.”

He said those words to me once, a long time ago, when I was lost in the aftermath of betrayal. I didn’t believe him then.

Something shatters in his eyes, and he grips my hips tight enough to leave marks. We move together, him lying back in the tub, me straddling him as I map a body that’s etched with the scars of battles he’s won.

It’s there that a tiny prick of guilt stabs me. There’s still something I’m keeping from him. A secret that has the possibility to ruin us. A connection that pulls on me just as much as the one I share with the man looking at me completely unguarded for the first time, one that hides nothing. I need to tell him, I know I do. But I can’t bring myself to ruin this moment when the words bubble up.

I lower my forehead to his, forcing those thoughts aside. They have no place here.

Our eyes hold, cloth forgotten. The promise of the beautiful unknown unfurling in the inches between us.

It should scare me, whatever this is, after everything I’ve been through. But it doesn’t. Not with him.

Callahan tucks my hair behind my ear, his hand lingering on my neck where my pulse hammers in my throat. My hands are braced against his pecs, his heartbeat matching mine.

He was nearly taken from me, before we’d even had a chance to see what we could be. I’m not only fighting for this world, I’m fighting for my own. For a chance to live, and maybe even love one day. A chance to see what this blossoms into. My gut tells me it would be more beautiful than I could ever imagine, if I’m brave enough to step into the possibilities that hang in the air alongside all the things we leave unspoken.

When our lips find each other again, the kiss is filled with tenderness instead of raw heat. We push and pull. Give and take. Question and answer.

He hands me everything he has. I can feel it in the way he desperately holds me, the way his mouth is gentle but possessive, and the fear he tries to smother with each breath. That Tavish will take me from him again.

And in return, I slowly, but surely, remove the last barriers around my heart. Hoping with everything I have that he won’t break me, and that when he does find out about the truth I’m hiding, he won’t walk away from me a second time.

Chapter 11

Elsie

The nightmare pulls me from a deep sleep as terror ghosts across the surface of my skin. I’d been back in the underground chamber with runes carved in the rock, chained to the stone altar as Tavish loomed over me with his dagger in hand. He offered the same choice he always did.

“Pick me, and it all stops, little warrior.”