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"Spoilsport," he mumbles, making me struggle to hide my smile. The big issue here is Ireallylike Callan. I like him more than I should, and I could easily let it develop into something more.
I lay on my bed and watch as he kicks off his shoes before reaching for the hem of his sweater. He pulls it off with one yank.
"Wait, wait, wait. Clothes were supposed to stay on," I tell Callan, trying not to stare at his muscular chest.
"It's hot in here. Besides, everyone knows shirts are optional for men." I give him a look that tells him he's full of crap. "If it makes you feel any better, you can take your shirt off too."
"In your dreams," I respond, rolling my eyes.
"Actually, I have been dreaming about that very thing," he admits.
"Oh, God," I laugh, feeling myself blush.I get under the sheets but look over my shoulder at him. "You will stay on top of the covers."
I can tell he's not happy about it, but he lies on top of my comforter, scooting in close and pulling me to him. Once we get settled, I relish how good it feels surrounded with his body heat—his arms around me as he spoons my body.
"Tell me about your childhood," he whispers, his hot breath tickling my ear.
"Well, I met Emilia when my mom was nearing the end of her fight with cancer.”
“I’m so sorry, baby,” he says, and I can hear the sincerity in his voice. I put my hand over his and give it a squeeze.
“Thank you. It’s okay. It’s been a long time. The memories still make me sad, and I miss her, but I can think back and be thankful for the time I had with her. Anyway, Emilia’s father came into the diner where my father worked as a line cook one night. He choked on some bacon and Dad saved his life—although I’m sure you read all this in Niko’s files. According to Emilia, they are very thorough.”
“They are,” he says kissing the back of my head. What he doesn’t do is apologize for prying—not that I expected him to. Men like Callan and Niko are used to power and control. They’re not going to change. Besides, to be honest, there’s an aura of danger and sexiness about them because of the way they carry themselves. No woman wants a man who asks for permission for every little thing—at least I don’t.
“Emilia and I were best friends. We hated being separated—even at an early age. Mr. Korslova wanted Emilia to attend one of the best boarding schools in the country and she didn’t want to go without me. He’d also been looking for a way to repay my father for saving his life. He came to Dad with a proposition. He would pay for my education on the condition I was allowed to go to boarding school with Emilia. Dad doesn’t like taking money or payment for doing what any good person would do, but he jumped at the chance this time. He thought it would help me not focus on my mom being gone. Most of my memories are of her being unable to do much, either because of the chemo making her sick or because she had some secondary issue to the cancer ravaging her body. She was sick for a long time. My dad always worked hard to try make sure we were happy. I know he had to be bone tired and spread thin. Still, he never once failed in making me feel as if I was the most important thing in the world to him. It always amazed me that even with two jobs he somehow found a way to come to my ball games at school. Most of the time he would have to come straight from his shift and rearrange his work schedule with an employee to make it possible.”
"What did you play?" he asks. I'm glad when he directs the conversation in this direction. I know my mom loved me, but it's been years since she's passed, giving me time to come to terms with it, and I don’t like to dwell on the bad now.
"I was a cheerleader," I tell him. I look over to see him grin. "What is that look for?"
"I always wanted to make out with a cheerleader," he teases.
I can't help but roll my eyes. "Looking like you do, I'm sure you had all the cheerleaders you wanted."
"Nope, not a one."
He leans close as I roll to face him, tilting my chin up to brush my lips across his.
"Well, we can't have that," I tease, pressing my lips firmly to his as his tongue seeks mine out.
The kiss quickly turns hot and heavy as he presses himself into me. He slides a hand up the jersey to skim the underside of my stomach, causing my breath to hitch. He moves his thumb back and forth on my skin there, making my mind go haywire. When I don't immediately push him away, he begins teasing my breast, playing with the taught nipple. My hips instinctively rock against him, and I'm suddenly mad I insisted on the covers. I cry out as he moves to the other side, my other nipple. My whole body vibrates with the pleasure he’s creating. I’ve never known anything like it.
"Fuck, Zoe, I want more." Something about his comment makes me snap to reality.
"Maybe we should slow down."
Callan plays with my breast a second longer, but I can feel he is regretfully agreeing with me because the intensity lessens. All too soon, he pulls his hand out of my shirt, letting it rest on my thigh instead.
"I can give you time, but I have to warn you, I don't know how much patience I have in me. I want you too damn bad."
"I need time to get to know you just as you need to get to know me. I have no idea about your past," I tell him.
"Mine is very different from yours. I don't know my parents. I grew up in the system—a ward of the state of Florida. I got shuffled through foster homes until I got caught shoplifting and other petty crimes. I had nothing and no one, so it was easy to take it instead," Callan glosses over his history and I frown. I mean, it’s good to hear about his life, but how bad must it have been for him to detach himself so methodically from it. "I’m not proud of my past, Zoe, but the beginning is not my story. It is merely what drives me to create a life where I depend on nothing and no one except me."
"That all sounds kind of lonely," I whisper to myself, careful not to say it too loud. I blink away the pity in my eyes because I know it's not what he wants. It just hurts that he didn’t receive the love that he deserved as a child. Part of me is angry that Callan turned to crime because he didn't have anything to his name and no parent to shield him from that. I wish I could go back and hug the scared child he must have been.
“It was at times. Luckily, I was young enough that nothing stuck to my permanent record to derail the life I wanted. Plus, I was placed in a facility that allowed me to meet Niko. He’s the brother I never had. I would die for him, and I know he would do the same for me.”
