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“You are breath-taking,” she whispered. “I don’t think I’ve seen anyone more masculine in my life.” She ran her hands up his legs, over the cool metal, until she reached the heat of his thigh. “You’re all power and strength. So many muscles…” Her fingers mapped each indentation on his stomach. There was awe in her face. Absolute awe and raw desire.

Although Callum didn’t move an inch, he felt the world shift beneath him. The foundations he stood on rearranged themselves and became stronger. He was suddenly standing on a very different planet. Because of Isobel. Because of how she looked at him. Because of how she made him feel. A rightness settled deep inside of him. And he knew. He knew that no matter what happened, no matter what they had to face, he was not giving up Isobel Sinclair. Not ever. She didn’t know it yet. But she was his.

Beautiful eyes blazed up at him. “I have a lot of questions about these bionic legs of yours. But first…”

She leaned into him and took the head of his cock into her mouth. Callum spread his legs wide and gave her access, delighting in the way one hand wrapped around his girth while the other gripped his backside. She sucked hard and made him moan with desperation. His whole body felt as though it was on fire. He was desperate for her, desperate to spill himself inside of her, to claim her as his own. The hot, wet heat of her mouth, along with the sight of her on her knees in front of him, giving this to him, was almost more than he could bear. He was tempted to ride this wave of pleasure to its end, but he wanted one thing more. He wanted her under him.

“Stop,” he growled, and tightened his hold on her hair.

She released him with a pop. “Don’t want to.” Her tongue swirled around him.

“Woman, you are driving me nuts.”

She actually smiled. “Good.”

Callum let go of her hair and reached down to lift her to her feet. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and her hands went straight to his chest. She moulded her fingers to his pecs and let out a tiny sigh of contentment.

“Is it wrong that I really, really like you being naked when I’m still dressed? It feels naughty.”

“Naughty?” He couldn’t stop the chuckle, even though his skin was past sensitive and he was desperate with the need to get inside of her. “Like a teenager?”

“Like a woman who is losing her mind over a man.”

He liked the sound of that a whole lot. There was only one thing he’d change. “Over her man.”

Her eyes shot to his, and for a second he thought he saw panic. He wasn’t going to let that happen. He liked having Isobel all sensual and needy. He clasped her nape and slammed his mouth down onto hers, kissing her with a desperation that bordered on obsession. She melted against him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders to keep upright. Callum tugged at his old T-shirt and tried to get it over her head.

She shook her head and stepped back, her fingers still kneading his chest.

“I don’t want to get naked.” Her husky voice was an aphrodisiac in itself, and it took a second for Callum to realise what she’d said.

He cupped her cheek. It should be illegal to have skin that smooth. “Why not, darlin’?” He kept his tone soft, letting her know that her answer mattered. That she mattered.

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, and for a second he thought she wouldn’t answer. “I know you think you’re damaged goods or something, but you aren’t. You’re a freaking Michelangelo sculpture. Seriously. There isn’t an ounce of fat on you. Everywhere I look there’s toned, carved muscle.” She looked up at him nervously. “I’m flabby. I have cellulite. And stretch marks.”

Callum blinked, trying to understand. “Isobel, I don’t have any legs.” Was she seriously self-conscious? With him?

She nodded at him, ever so serious. “You do. You have these kick-arse cyborg legs. You look like the Terminator. The Arnie one, with lots of muscle and that intense stare that scares the poop out of people.”

At the same time as her

words astonished him, humbled him, they also made him want to laugh. “Poop? Kick-arse?” He shook his head. “There are some words you just shouldn’t say. They don’t sound right coming out of that gorgeous mouth of yours.”

She slapped his chest and instantly spread her fingers to soothe the sting. “I’m being serious. You look like a master artist carved you out of marble. I look like a toddler made me out of Play-Doh.”

He had to laugh. It rumbled out of him and astonished him at the same time. He never, in a million years, thought he’d be in the position of laughing while he bared his broken body and soul to a woman who mattered to him.

“You are a nut. I already saw you when you were in the shower.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t get a close-up look, and it only lasted a few seconds.”

“I can’t believe we’re arguing about this. Get undressed and I’ll make you feel good. I promise.” He injected the words with heavy sensuality, and watched as her eyes darkened and she swayed towards him.

“How about we do one thing at a time? Tonight, I got to see your bionic legs. Tomorrow, maybe you’ll take them off and let me see you without them. Then, in a month or two, if we’re still together…” She suddenly looked uncertain. “Are we together?”

“Bloody hell, woman, aye, we’re together.” What the hell was she thinking? That he’d let a one-night stand see him like this?

Instead of looking reassured, she frowned. “I’m not sure I can handle that. I don’t exactly have a good track record with relationships.”

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