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We sat for a couple of hours talking, flirting. In spite of my initial panic, he had somehow found a way to help me relax. Obviously, it was part of his spiel. He could have walked up to anyone and chatted them up, but I was the one who’d stared at him like I was on a diet and he was a basket of fried chicken. Clearly, he was a master at knowing exactly how to get into a woman’s undies, but even with that knowledge firmly in my mind, I wasn’t in a rush to leave.
Callum looked straight into my eyes while he spoke to me. It was sexy; every word we exchanged was charged with an energy I had never felt before, and I let myself get swept away in the fast-paced conversations. I hardly remembered what we talked about, but the words weren’t important. Not compared to the sparks flying around us.
“It’s kind of dead in here,” Callum said, looking at his watch. “Do you want to go somewhere else?”
“Somewhere else?” I moved my empty glass aside and picked up my beer mat. “I should probably go home.”
I traced the pattern on the mat with my fingertips, wondering exactly where this was about to go. I’d had a good time talking to him, but now what? Would he ask for my number? Would I offer him mine? Or were we destined to go our separate ways?
“Maybe I could walk you home,” Callum said. “Make sure you get there safely.”
I toyed with the idea of saying yes, but the fact that I’d only known him for two and a half hours was something I knew I shouldn’t ignore. It wouldn’t have been quite so difficult if I’d thought ‘walking me home’ meant just that. But somehow, he didn’t strike me as the gentlemanly type. Strangely, that was part of the appeal.
Callum really was the complete opposite of anyone I’d been attracted to before. Not so much in looks, but his manner. He was bordering on cocky with absolutely no qualms about being obvious he was interested in me. I was used to men who took me out to expensive restaurants and wouldn’t dare to expect anything beyond a kiss at the end of a first date. The suggestion of more should have had me clutching my pearls.
In my mind, I heard CeCe’s throaty chuckle at my hesitation. If she hadn’t left, she’d have told me to stop being so bloody sensible and let myself act on instinct instead of planning and worrying. We’d only known each other for five months, but she had me pegged.
Callum reached forward and took the beer mat I’d been playing with out of my hands. Another spark as our skin touched.
“You’re driving me crazy with that,” he said with a small grin.
“Sorry.” I smiled as he put it back down on the table and proceeded to do the same thing I’d been doing a second ago.
I watched his long fingers as they moved lightly across the letters. Slow. Teasing.
What the hell do I want with a gentleman anyway?
Without allowing myself to overthink, I picked up my bag and coat. “Let’s go.”
Callum finished the last of his drink, and we headed outside. It had gotten colder, but as I stopped to put my jacket on, Callum slid his hands around my waist and pressed me back against the pub’s wall, my jacket dropping to the ground. The warmth of his hands holding me gently but firmly through my thin top made me forget the early January chill, and I raised my head to look at him.
My skin burned where his fingers touched, my breath increasing as his eyes dropped to my lips and the corners of his mouth curved into a lazy smile.
“You’re shaking,” he said.
Crap. My hands hovered by his waist, fingers quivering. Apparently, I’d lost the ability to function like a normal adult, but who could blame me? This man had crashed into my life mere hours ago, and my brain couldn’t cope with how much my body wanted him.
My cheeks burned, and I lowered my gaze.
Yup, you are in way over your head here.
But I didn’t want to move away.
Couldn’t move away.
The grin hadn’t left his face, and his brows lifted, sending my pulse galloping again. He knew the effect he had on me, and instead of making the first move, he was waiting for me. This realisation, instead of scaring me away, sparked fire in my veins.
Okay, Little Miss Timid. It’s time to show him you’re not really so shy after all.
The heady scent of his leather jacket had tormented me all evening, so I finally allowed myself to breathe in deep, my senses filling with the smell.
Tilting my head upwards, my eyes on his, I took both sides of his jacket in my hands. From that angle, I noticed a tiny cleft on the bottom of his chin I hadn’t been able to see before, like a scar, and I wanted to place my lips on it. I wanted to place my lips on every part of him.
Tugging gently, I pulled him down towards me, and he needed no further invitation.
Callum’s lips touched mine with a softness I didn’t expect, and my heart stuttered when he pulled back after just a second. One corner of his mouth lifted into a half smile, and I couldn’t take my eyes off it for a moment, my own lips still slightly parted, my breathing shallow. The moment seemed to go on forever until I dragged my gaze up to his dark eyes. The second our eyes met, he stepped into me, fully trapping me against the wall as his mouth covered mine. A small moan fell from my lips as I slipped my hands inside his jacket and pulled him closer.
Being pressed against him after watching him across the table all evening, imagining what he’d feel like, made my head swim.
