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“Well done, Callen,” I declare, tearing my hand away like I’ve touched an oven top. “You got me to touch you. Mission accomplished. Can I get back to work now?”
“You don’t get it, Ivy,” he says. His use of my real name makes me pay attention. “Ever since we fucked, it’s been different.”
“Are you blaming me for breaking your dick?” I ask. “Do I need to go to a clinic to get checked? If this was your attempt to get me to do an examination, you can go swivel.” I shoot his tent a pointed glare. “It looks like it’s working fine.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my cock,” he replies defensively.
I put my hands on my hips. “So, what are you trying to say?”
“You’re a crazy bitch who tried to kill us all. But, since having you, you’re the only woman I want to fuck,” he says. “Being with you is explosive, maybe better than detonating a bomb, and I know you feel it too. The chemistry we have together. The way we’re drawn together in a room. I meant it when I said I don’t want you. I fuckingneedyou, and I think you need me too.”
Callen loves to play games and cause torment. I don’t believe his mindfuckery, no matter how genuine he sounds.
I roll my eyes. “Save it for a girl who you actually stand a chance with.”
“You know, I didn’t just return to the Dukes to work,” he continues. When I look into his eyes this time, I don’t see a psychotic killer staring back. I see the man who helped a deer, the father who talked about missing his daughter, and the friend who saved Bram’s life. “I came back to find you.”
He leans in, and his lips graze mine, sending tingles down to my toes. He holds my waist, drawing my body to his and kisses me harder. His mouth is forceful, filled with need, his tongue diving into my mouth to take from me, and I don’t stop him.
This isn’t like before. There’s depth, emotion, darkness… and something else I can’t put my finger on. The world doesn’t shake, but my body reacts like the floor is quaking. He ties me to the present, making everything around us vanish.
When we’re together, it’s like pouring petrol onto a fire. We’re powerless to stop the reaction. Our kiss becomes anurgent frenzy. I run my fingers through his hair while his hands move down my back to cup and squeeze my arse hard.
He groans, “I—”
“Shh,” I order, tugging his jacket off.
I throw it to the floor and slip my hand under his t-shirt. He catches my bottom lip between his teeth and sucks on it as I dig my nails into his back, drawing blood.
I need to feel his skin against mine. I pull at the hem of his t-shirt, craving closeness. He obliges, throwing it over his head and starts to undress me. He hurls my scarf to the side and tears my coat open with enough force to send the buttons flying. They roll across the floor, finding homes in dusty corners. I wrestle with my crop top, quickly taking it off before that ends up in shreds.
“You’re fucking perfect,” he admires.
“Don’t speak,” I urge, raising my leg and hooking my knee around him to draw him in.
My tits bulge out of my pretty purple bra, crushed against his chest. He grabs a handful of my arse to steady me and leans my back against the wall for balance.
Suddenly, I stand on two legs and push him away.
“What—”
“Your clothes.” I scan his body. “Take them off.”
His pupils dilate with excitement. Usually, he enjoys giving orders, but he doesn’t seem to mind getting them. He obeys eagerly, stripping and standing naked, proudly displaying the massive throbbing member between his legs like it’s a prize-winning trophy. It kind of is.
“On your knees,” I order. “In front of the altar.”
He drops to the ground without hesitation and watches as I move towards him, swinging my hips. I take my time, removing clothes as I go. First, I shrug off my shoes and then slip out of myjeans until I’m standing in my underwear. Finally, I unclip my bra and let it fall.
A gust of wind whistles through the crypt, as if the spirits want to punish me for getting hot and heavy in their resting place. My nipples harden in response, and goosebumps erupt over my skin.
I grab Callen’s leather jacket and put it on. He swallows in longing as he checks me out from head to toe.
“Holy shit,” he mumbles. “You look hot in my jacket.”
I use the dominant tone I usually reserve for killing. “Tell me what you want to do to me.”
“I need to taste you.”
