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Caleb traps both of my hands and plants them on his firm chest. “He won’t hurt you, Amelia, I promise. I’ll never let him. Because I’m going to protect you.” His thumbs press into my wrists. “But I need your help. If he messages you, tell me. If you want to leave this room, tell me.”
My heart beats harder in my chest.
“Don’t go anywhere without me.” His voice is deep and full of meaning that I’m one hundred percent reading into.
I lean into his protection, waiting for him to meet my eyes. When he does I draw even closer. I tiptoe my fingers up his chest and he stiffens under my touch. “You said you can’t do this. But I think you want to. You’re afraid of admitting the truth to me, but mostly yourself.” My fingers stop on his collarbone and he shudders, his gaze is ravenous.
Am I an awful person for wanting him to give in to this?
“You’re wrong.” He recaptures my hand and I catch my breath.
“Pleased to hear it.”
His gaze drops to my lips. I lean into him. His eyes are a growing storm of frustration and hope, annoyance and desperation. But I’m a storm chaser, ready to get sucked into the turbulent whirlwind.
His head dips until his lips are a mere inch from mine. My body erupts in a rush of fire. I want this. His heart beats strong beneath my fingertips and I flatten my palm to feel the muscle underneath.
“I’m not afraid.” His breath brushes my lips and they part of their own volition. My eyes drift closed and I wait, my pulse thrumming faster and faster. “I’m terrified.”
His lips land on mine in a rush of intensity so strong my bones melt under the weight of his touch.
He slips his hands behind my head, pulling me closer like he’ll never get enough of me, and I hold him as tight. Because I know that at any moment he’s going to step away from me. He hasn’t let his walls down for me yet. He’s only allowed me in the back entrance. And the second this kiss is over he’ll shove me out the door again.
I drag my hand through his hair and he groans, angling his mouth over mine to deepen the kiss.
He scoops me up, crushing me into his chest and bracing my legs on both sides of his torso. He nips at my bottom lip and my already pounding heart explodes. Every kiss with him has been heart-stopping, but this one is world-ending because I’m getting a taste of the real him. The version of him that yearns for a relationship.
He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth, tasting and teasing and I melt in his very strong hands. My moans of appreciation are swallowed up by him.
There’s a threat on my life, but I couldn’t care less. This is where I want to be forever. Right here in his arms, where I feel not only accepted but treasured. His gentleness contradicts his strength as he slows the kiss, one hand running up and down my spine, the other still cradling me close.
His fingers slide beneath the hem of my shirt, pressing into my bare skin.
He tenses. Then walks forward and…drops me onto the bed, effectively popping my balloon, and unfortunately my world a little. My hairbrush digs into my spine but I welcome the physical pain instead of the heart kind.
“I’m sorry.” Caleb backs away even further. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
I try to convey with my eyes, words I can't say with my mouth. That it's okay. That I want him to do it again.
I can see him warring with himself. Stay. Go. Stay...
“What scares you more,” I whisper, “me, or this version of yourself?”
The storm is in his eyes again, consuming him. “All of the above.”
He’s out of my room so fast I can still feel the air circulating from his escape.
Chapter 37
Caleb
My feet eat up the belt faster than the treadmill can spit it out. After kissing Amelia, I made a break for the hotel gym. I needed to cool off, or work out, and given the choice I always choose to work out. Even if I’m forced to do it in my cargo pants and boots.
She has no idea how much more I want from her than a little kiss. I want a shot at something real, and it’s terrifying. I’ve never allowed myself to think about someone long-term, but now it’s my favorite daydream. Me and Amelia, watching Psych together while cuddled up on the couch. Kissing her smooth neck until she turns her head and meets my lips.
I shake my head. Her neck probably isn't smooth at all. Maybe she has some weird skin condition.
My feet hit harder. Yes. That’s working. I’ll pretend her lips were super chapped. That kissing her felt like kissing a one-hundred-year-old sea turtle.