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I almost tell him yes, yes, hurt him badly, hurt him so he can never party and play loud music and sell drugs again. He’s made living here even more miserable than it had to be.
But I can’t bring myself to say it, because Conrad looks like he’s ready to kill these men for what Todd said to me.
Nobody gets to talk to Callie like that…
Am I crazy, or did he sound like my boyfriend there for a second?
I shake my head, strangely not surprised that Conrad and I can communicate with such ease, silent and effortlessly, like we’ve known each other for years rather than hours.
Conrad pushes Todd away and then strides forward, forcing the other man to step back until they’re in the hallway.
“Leave,” he snaps.
“Where are we supposed to go?” Todd gasps. “We live here.”
“Throw yourself off a goddamn skyscraper for all I care. I don’t want you back here for a couple of hours.”
For a second I think the men might leap at Conrad. They look big and burly and nasty, but there’s something too confident about Conrad, about the way he fills the doorway and stares them down. He’s like an alpha wolf whereas they’re the overexcited pups, thinking they’re tough because they’ve injected a few needles.
They turn and walk down the hallway, their footsteps fading until they’re gone completely.
Conrad sighs and reaches for the door, closing it slowly. He has to jam it into the frame, leaning into it with his shoulder.
“Fucking assholes,” he growls, turning back to me. “Who the hell do they think they are?”
“You didn’t have to do that,” I say.
He bites down, temples pulsing. “Yes, yes I fucking did. Because nobody gets to talk to you like that, Callie.”
Suddenly he’s very close. He moves with savage intent, pushing me up against the wall. I gasp as he moves even closer, his body touching mine, and then pressing against mine.
I can feel something hard against my belly, a solid length of lust pushed against me.
Freaking heck, is he hard...for me.
Tingles dance up and down my body as I stare up at him, hardly able to put these events into some sort of logical order.
“Nobody has ever stood up for me like that before,” I whisper, staring up at him, finding it difficult to speak as my stampeding heartbeat threatens to throttle me. “Why, Conrad? Why did you do that?”
He leans down so that his breath whispers over my lips, hot and tempting. Our noses touch and even more tingles shimmer over me, every part of me lighting up. My sex grows hot and wet and my clit pulses. My nipples feel raw with tension.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he snarls. “I’m trying to be strong, Callie. I’m trying not to make assumptions. But there’s no way I can—”
Another door opens, the sound violently loud now that Todd’s music has stopped. For a second I think the ass-hat has returned, but then I hear mom’s voice, raised with an anxious note.
“Callie, what’s going on? Who’s this? What’s happening?”
Something in my chest drops heavily, like a weighted stone, when the moment shatters and Conrad steps away.
What the heck was he going to say? Was he going to kiss me?
He was hard, so freaking hard. I know I didn’t imagine it.
“Callie,” Mom snaps, her voice rising into a near scream. “What is happening?”
Chapter Five
Conrad
I try to take deep breaths to force some calmness into me, to force myself not to howl and beat my chest like a beast. I was so damn close to kissing her, to tasting those perfect lips. I could feel her body against mine, my manhood pushed against her.
But maybe it’s a good thing her mother interrupted us now, and not after I laid my lips against hers. If I’d made contact, I know I wouldn’t have been able to stop.
I know I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself from bending her over the couch and grinding the inflamed tip of my manhood up and down her between legs, letting her get good and wet before I drove myself inside her tight, needy young hole.
Fuck.
I’m not doing a very good job at calming myself down.
“It’s okay, Mom. Everything’s fine.”
Callie’s mother is bone-thin, wearing an oversized top that hangs right down to her knees. Her cheeks are gaunt and her eyes have a sunken quality, as though she’s a few days away from starvation. Her hair hangs down to her shoulders in greasy strands.
“Who is this?” she warbles, sounding like a woman on the edge.
“It’s Conrad,” Callie says, walking over to her mom and laying a hand on her shoulder. “He’s my…”
She looks at me, a question in her eyes. They’re even more gorgeous in the flickering candlelight, dancing alluringly. “I’m her friend. It’s lovely to meet you, Miss Simpkins.”
“Mrs,” she spits. “My name is Mrs. Simpkins.”
