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“I know.” She flicks the cigarette with her long emerald nail and smiles. “Only because I like you.” She bats her lashes at me playfully.
I want to sink through the floor, because Callie is right next to me.
Candy laughs and rolls her eyes in understanding. “I have to get back to work. Rest.” She winks at Callie, and the door closes behind her.
“You’ve come here before, huh?” Callie asks as she walks around the room, studying it, as I take a seat on the edge of the bed.
“Yeah,” I say quietly, not looking at her. I lean with my elbows on my knees and rake my fingers through my hair. We all need an escape from time to time. Sometimes, you pay for it.
I don’t say it out loud. I know how it may sound. A year ago, we were so desperate on the Eastside, thinking that our time would soon come to an end.
Callie approaches. She nudges between my legs, cups my face, and tilts it up.
My hands slide up her legs as I study her face.
Her smile is soft. There is no judgment in her gaze. Her fingers slowly rake through my hair, and I close my eyes, leaning into her touch.
“Kai, what if this is our last night?”
My eyes snap open. “Don’t say that.” My hands squeeze her thighs in reassurance.
“I mean it. What if something happens, and I won’t see you again?”
Her gaze is not worried but sad, and I can’t stand it when she is like this.
I am about to pull her down onto my lap when she picks up the hem of her shirt and pulls it up, over her head, and tosses it onto the bed, then brings her hands behind her back and undoes her bra.
I hold my breath for a moment.
Her movements are slow when she tosses the bra onto the bed.
My heart starts beating faster.
I study her breasts, the sight of them making my cock grow hard in seconds.
She hooks her thumbs under the waistband of her shorts and tugs them down, together with her panties, and finally stands naked in front of me.
“If something happens”—she leans over, and I let her pull my shirt up and over my head—“I want to know that we took all we could from this.”
She pulls me up, unzips my jeans, and helps me pull them down my legs.
Good hell, my Callie, who only weeks ago was afraid to look in my direction, now undresses me, demanding sex. But I like her like this—openly wanting me, not shying away.
My mind goes blank at the thought of being inside her soon.
She gently pushes me to sit down. I sit on the bed with my cock standing up to attention. She stands in front of me. Naked. Confident. Studying me for a moment that seems to pause time.
This week changed her. She is unrecognizable. She makes me hard. She makes my heart beat wildly. Before, it was tenderness. Now, it’s awe. If only we could hold on to this freedom, or whatever we have. But we are fugitives. This might be what strips her of shyness.
My beautiful naked girl studies me openly, then gets on my lap and straddles me. Her hands glide along my shoulders, her fingertips slowly tracing the texture of my skin.
She is studying it under my tattoos.
Shivers run down my spine. I like it. And I don’t. I don’t want her to pay so much attention to my monstrous scars. They are disguised by the intricate tattoos, but the texture—yeah, the texture is memories.
I take her by her wrists, gently pulling her hands away, and smile. “Baby girl, you are playing games again.”
But she doesn’t smile back.
