Page 2 of Bitten By Desire (Crooked Point #1)

Saturday

The way he was staring at me made my heart beat funny in my chest. “I have a picture of the portrait if you don’t believe me.” I lifted my camera so I could show him the screen.

His eyes stayed glued to my lips. Or was he staring at my neck?

“Sorry,” I said. “I should really get back…”

He grabbed my wrist as I tried to step past him.

“Or you could tell me why your phone is more interesting than the party.”

His hands were so cold. My immediate reaction was to pull away from him. But I couldn’t stop staring into his eyes. I knew it didn’t make any sense. But it felt like I was staring at the man in the portrait.

“Your phone,” he said. “What were you doing?”

I’d completely forgotten that he’d asked me a question. “Looking at my ex’s social media.” Why the hell had I just said that?

The corner of his mouth ticked up. “Did you see anything interesting?”

I shook my head.

“So you wandered into this room…far away from the party. To stalk your ex?”

Okay, I sounded like a psychopath. First thinking he was the guy in the portrait. And now being obsessed with my ex? “Honestly I came here to make him jealous.”

“And how is that going?”

“Not well. I haven’t found a single striker to hook up with.” I laughed at my own joke. Even though he didn’t know what Zoey wanted me to do.

“Hmm.” He grabbed my camera and tugged, snapping the cord around my neck.

I would have been pissed but it was hard to be mad at someone with such beautiful eyes.

“I have a better idea.” His eyes gravitated to my lips again.

I swallowed hard. “And what is your idea?”

“Show him you’re better off without him. Living your best life.” He held up the camera and took a picture of me.

I flinched. I was used to being on the other end of the lens. “I don’t think sharing pictures of myself on social media will make him realize that cheating is wrong.”

“He cheated on you?”

I nodded. “Just once.” As if that made it better.

“Once a snake, always a snake, Emma.” He didn’t lift his gaze from the screen on my camera.

Wait. “How’d you know my name?”

He ran his fingers down the cord where my name was stitched.

I don’t know why, but I suddenly felt exposed. I wished I had my camera back. I’d much rather take a picture of him. Just like the portrait in the living room, I wanted to capture his beauty and keep it forever. “What’s your name?”

He lifted his eyes from the screen. “Callum. ”

“Not Sir William?”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He looked anything but amused. “No. Callum Walsh.”

Callum Walsh. That was definitely a sexier name than Sir William whatever.

“Lower the strap of your dress,” he said.

“What?”

His eyes locked with mine. “You’re confident and sexy, even when it’s just you on a Saturday night. That’s what will make him reel.”

I didn’t know if that was true. But I found myself reaching up and pushing down the strap of my dress. Maybe I wanted him to think I was confident and sexy. Because it radiated off of him.

“Lower,” he said.

I pushed the strap lower, letting it fall down my bicep.

“Sit on the couch.”

“I don’t think…”

“Sit, Emma.”

I sat down.

He snapped a photo. “Lie back.”

It was like his words had power over me. I lay down, staring at him.

He reached out and pushed my hair so that it would cascade off the side of the couch.

“Spread your legs.” His voice came out low and strained.

I did what he said.

“Put your hand on your inner thigh. The other one,” he said when I didn’t do it right. “Lower.”

I trailed my fingers lower. I don’t know if it was because he was staring at me through the lens instead of directly at me. Or because I’d had two beers. Or because Jackson was a fucking asshole. But Callum’s words ignited something inside of me.

The camera flashed.

“Arch your back.”

I arched my back as I stared directly at him.

The camera flashed again.

He stared at the screen instead of at me. Like he was analyzing the photo.

And I lay there frozen in place. Did he like what he saw? I wanted him to. I wanted him to keep staring at me like he wanted to devour every inch of me.

He lifted his head from the screen, his eyes locking with mine. “Push your skirt up your thighs.” His voice sounded tight.

It was different with him staring directly at me instead of through the lens. And I suddenly lost my nerve.

He looked back down at the screen, like he knew how distracting his gaze could be. “Now, Emma.”

I was transfixed by him. By his golden eyes. By the possessive way he spoke. I pushed my skirt up my thighs.

He walked over to me and lightly tugged on the strap of my dress, pulling it down, exposing my bra. He ran his cold fingers down my collarbone. He stared down at my skin as he pushed my bra cup down. His thumb ran over my nipple and I shivered.

He tugged my bra lower and snapped a photo of my breast.

I didn’t need a photo of my left tit. “Callum…”

“You’re gorgeous.”

My protest died in my throat .

He reached out, running his thumb along my lower lip. I had the strangest temptation to bite his flesh. But I didn’t get a chance. He pulled down on my lip, slightly parting my mouth. He pressed his thumb into my mouth and I did the first thing I could think of. I sucked it.

His golden stare grew even more intense as he pressed his thumb farther into my mouth. He stared down at my exposed skin.

Usually when I had sex with Jackson, I turned off the lights. I was self-conscious about my body with him. Maybe because I knew he liked fake breasts, fake tans, and fake blondes. But I didn’t feel self-conscious right now.

“Touch yourself,” he said. He pulled his thumb out of my mouth and snapped another photo.

“What?” I couldn’t post such explicit pictures. And if I sent them to Jackson…I didn’t trust him not to share them. “I can’t post…”

“Not for your snake of an ex. Do it for me, Emma.”

No one had ever stared at me the way he was staring. The intensity of his gaze would have been unnerving if it wasn’t so fucking hot. I’d do anything he wanted when he stared at me like that.

I slid my hand up my thigh, pushing my thong to the side. I was fucking soaked. And I knew he could tell. He was watching.

He grabbed my knee and spread my legs farther apart. His gaze disappeared through the lens again as he shot photo after photo.

“Two fingers.” His Adam’s apple rose and fell as he watched me .

I stared up at him as I slipped another finger into my wetness.

He groaned as he snapped another picture.

I’d never felt so sexy. So desired.

“Confident.” He snapped another photo. “Sexy.” Another flash.

He sat down next to me on the couch and pushed my skirt up, past my hips until he exposed my stomach. He snapped another picture, with his hand pressed against my skin.

“Callum…” I moaned.

“Would you rather it be my fingers, Emma?” He leaned forward and kissed the inside of my knee.

Jesus.

“My mouth?” He kissed farther up my inner thigh. “My cock?”

I moaned.

He grabbed my hand and pulled my fingers out of my wetness. He lifted my fingers to his mouth and sucked off my juices. “What will it be?” He bit down on my index finger. Harder than I think he meant to. “My fingers, my mouth, or my cock?”

“Yes.”

The corner of his mouth ticked up. He leaned over me, lifting my hand over my head and pinning it to the couch cushion. “Is this what you really want a picture of? How would your ex feel if he saw you like this? At my mercy?”

I lifted my hips to try to make contact with him.

He ran his free hand down my dress, past my exposed stomach. I thought he’d tease me for a second, but he thrust two fingers deep inside of me .

Fuck. I would have shivered from his cold touch if I wasn’t so overheated.

“Sex should feel like you’re drowning.” He kissed the side of my jaw. “Like you’re being held down. Barely breathing. Until you’re touched just right.” His thumb found my clit.

I moaned.

“And suddenly you’re flying. Did it feel like that with him? Like you were out of your body?”

I shook my head. No, it was clumsy with Jackson at best. Not like this.

“You’re so wet. Was it the photos? Or were you picturing my cock in your mouth when it was just my thumb?”

“All of it.”

He slowly circled my wetness. “One last photo.” He let go of my hand and grabbed my camera.

I was about to ask him what he wanted a photo of. But he ripped my thong, thrust inside of me, and took the photo. Of my face when he entered me. Of the best feeling I’d ever experienced. His hard cock was as cold as the rest of his touch. Inch by inch he thrust forward.

He pushed my other strap down, exposing both my breasts to him. “You’re going to taste so sweet,” he whispered in my ear.

God, was he going to go down on me too? Where had this guy been all my life?

His lips fell to my neck and he sucked on my skin hard.

I knew he’d leave a bruise. And I didn’t fucking care. All I cared about was his hips thrusting against mine. His dirty mouth. His piercing gaze .

He sucked on the side of my neck harder, a guttural groan escaping his lips.

“Callum,” I moaned. I grabbed his face to try to get him to kiss me. But he just bit down on my neck harder.

God. I came. Embarrassingly fast.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his lips falling from my neck. He thrust inside me once more. And when he pulled back, he looked confused. Like that hadn’t gone exactly as he planned.

His eyebrows lowered like they had when we first met. Like he was sulking. He grabbed the camera and took another photo. Of my breasts out and my skirt bunched up my waist. He stared down at the screen, evaluating the picture while his cock was still deep inside of me.

I reached up and grabbed the camera from him. I wanted to capture this moment too. I wanted to capture him. I turned the camera around and snapped a photo of him.

He was off the couch so fast. I felt empty without him inside of me. I looked down at the cum leaking down my thigh. Shit, he hadn’t used a condom? I looked up at him

His scowl was even deeper now. His eyes locked on the cum on my thigh.

What had I just done? I barely even knew him. We hadn’t even freaking kissed. I pulled my dress back in place. I needed to get out of here. I stood up, but he grabbed my wrist before I could storm past him.

His cold touch made me feel frozen.

He reached up and touched the side of my neck where there was surely a bruise forming. “I lost control.” His fingers trailed down the side of my neck. “I didn’t expect you to like it that much.”

Like what? His dirty mouth? His intoxicating touch? Didn’t he want me to like it? Was it wrong that I had?

“I expected you to scream.” He drew a fraction of an inch closer. “Not moan my name.”

I didn’t understand what he was saying. But his mouth was leaning down toward mine.

And I wanted to taste his sinful lips. Zoey was right. Sex with a soccer player was definitely helping my heart feel better.

“There you are!” Zoey said. “I’ve been looking all over for you. I found your striker…” her voice trailed off.

Callum stepped away from me.

“Hey, Coach Walsh,” the guy with Zoey said.

Callum cleared his throat.

Wait. Coach Walsh? He wasn’t a player? I looked over at him.

And this time I saw the laugh lines around his eyes.

I wasn’t sure how old he was, but he definitely wasn’t in his twenties like I originally assumed.

Well, that explained why he knew exactly how to seduce me.

He’d had years more practice than the boys at my school.

“Your friend got lost,” Callum said to Zoey. “I was just showing her the way back.”

Showing me the way back to what? Screwing assholes?

Callum walked out of the room without looking back at me. Not one glance.

Coach Walsh. What the fuck had I just done?

Zoey cleared her throat. “Well, we won’t be needing you.” She shooed the striker away .

He shrugged and followed Coach Walsh out of the room.

“You did not just fuck the coach of the Wildcats.”

I did. But I hadn’t meant to.