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I race into my bedroom in a hurry to answer my mum’s call. By the time I locate my phone tangled in the bedsheets, I’ve missed it. I look down at the display and see that it wasn’t my mum at all.
1 missed call
Unknown number
Panic manifests itself in the tremble of my fingers and the rapid stutter of my heart stopping. The phone drops, my fingers suddenly butter.
I never answer unknown calls.
Just seeing the missed call message on the screen triggers horrendous memories. My vision fades, screams echoing through my mind as I’m transported back to when I was taken.
Fear paralyses me, and I can’t find my way back to the present.
“Callie?”
I blink, back, and breathe. Picking the phone up, I erase the call log. There. It’s gone. Out of sight, out of mind.
Slowly, my breathing returns to normal and my heart starts beating once again. It’s erratic, but at least I’m not about to die from being terrified.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I sigh in frustration. I can’t believe I missed out on my first kiss with Tex for nothing! All I’ve ever wanted, interrupted by a pointless phone call.
“Callie? Are you off the phone already?” Tex asks, appearing at my doorway with a frown between his eyes.
“No. I missed the call.”
“Was it your mum? Do you want to call her back?”
“I’m tired,” I lie.
“What? You just got up. Who really called?”
“I’d like to be left alone now.” Another lie. Tears prick and I look away. I can’t meet his eyes.
“Bullshit!” Tex cries, startling me. He never pushes. “I’m not leaving until you tell me who called!”
This is the sort of behaviour I would expect from Devon, maybe even East. But not kind, gentle, easy going, keep the peace, Tex.
“Then you better get comfortable because it looks like you’ll be spending the night,” I snap, frowning at him.
We stare at each other, and it’s hard to know who’s more shocked at my show of fire. Maybe it’s not a raging inferno of selfless bravery, but a tiny spark of defiance is definitely a start. I see something alight in Tex’s eyes and the corners of his mouth quirk up.
“There she is,” he breathes, lacing his fingers through my long dark hair as he cups my cheek. I lean into his touch and allow my eyelids to flutter closed. “I knew we didn’t lose you.”
Before I can ask what he means, his lips press against mine, lightly. Oh so lightly. His lips are softer than butterfly wings, and I’m too scared to breathe in case I’m dreaming and the tiniest movement breaks the spell.
But the spell doesn’t break. The magic intensifies as he deepens the kiss. It’s soul-searing, setting me alight, and blazing desire through my body. It’s like he lit the blue touch paper, but instead of retiring, he’s holding me tight, coming along for the ride, happy to burn with me.
Somehow we fall back on the bed, entwined in one another. I tug at his shirt and he pulls it off, only breaking contact with my lips the very second he has to.
The body I have stared at almost my entire life is bare before me. Nothing I haven’t seen before or committed to memory, and yet it’s like I’m seeing it for the first time. My fingers skim his monochrome ink, tracing the delicate mandala pattern peeking out behind the magnificent stag’s head on his chest, and the small Celtic knot tattoo over his heart. At my touch, with every ragged intake of breath Tex takes, the feathers of the birds on the deer’s antlers seem to ripple in the wind. The stag’s eyes pierce my soul. Just like Tex.
Of all Tex’s hidden, respectably placed tattoos, this is my favourite. It’s a beautiful work of art, a piece many would commission to adorn the walls of their homes, and instead Tex gets to carry it with him everywhere he goes. I can’t stop staring. Or touching him.
Feeling bold, I run my palms along his chest, over his shoulders and up to his neck, cupping his chiselled jawline in both hands. His stubble tickles my fingers, but he leans into my touch and I relish the way he seems to enjoy having my hands on him.
Arching up to meet him, I tentatively brush my lips against his. A low groan escapes from his throat causing my heart to leap. Bolder this time, I press my lips against his a little more firmly and he groans again. He shifts and I freeze beneath him, worrying that I’ve done something wrong. But when his erection presses against me, I relax.
How messed up. I should be petrified, shaking, fighting him off...but everything about Tex instils confidence. Could he finally be the one to chase my demons away? Replace the bad with good?
