Page 122 of Pucking Around

“Tell me you love me.”

He goes impossibly still, his gaze darting from Jake back over to me.

“Don’t look at him,” I snap. “He can’t help you right now. This is between you and me, Cay. You look at me, and you tell me the truth. Sudden death. Do you love me?”

“I can’t do this,” he mutters, taking a step back.

“You can’t what?” I challenge. “You can’t love me? Or you can’t admit it? Because they’re two completely different things.”

He says nothing, jaw clenched tight.

“You wear your anger like a shield,” I say, taking a step closer. “You’re angry at the world for your lost chances, at the man who hit you after the play for crushing all your dreams, at yourself for not seeing it coming.” Tears sting my eyes. “You’re full of so much anger, Cay. You need an outlet for it. You can’t bear it all alone, so stop trying. Let me help.”

He shakes his head.

I swallow my nerves, holding my ground. “I love you, Caleb Sanford, and I am not afraid of your darkness. You’d have to do a lot more than break a knee and become an alcoholic to dance all night withmydevils. I dareyou to let me in,” I challenge. “Or if you won’t…then lethimout. I’d like to meet him. I think Jake should meet him too.”

His eyes flash again as I see him warring inside.

“Let who out?” Jake rasps, his gaze locked on us prowling across his kitchen at each other.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” says Caleb, his voice low.

My heart races as my core tightens with need, the anticipation of a fight building. Moving fast, I snatch up Jake’s half-eaten bowl of spaghetti and fling it at Caleb’s head. He ducks it easily, and the bowl goes smashing against the cabinet, china shattering, spaghetti flopping from the counter to the floor.

“Whoa—” Jake cries. “Seattle, what the hell?”

“Don’t fucking push me, Rachel,” Caleb barks, pointing a finger at me.

I don’t turn around. Jake’s not my priority right now. Caleb is the one in the net for this round of sudden death, and I’m taking my shot. Stripping off my ratty band t-shirt, I drop it to the floor and move topless across the kitchen towards him.

“Don’t,” Caleb growls.

I grab him by the neck with both hands and press myself against him, latching onto his mouth to pour everything I have into him. His hands wrap around me, smoothing up the bare skin of my back. I jump and he catches me, my legs wrapping around his hips as he turns us, setting me on the edge of the island.

My pussy presses up against his crotch as I kiss him breathless, chasing each kiss and flick of his tongue with a tease of my own. We’re moaning into each other’s mouths like starving animals. Then I’m breaking the kiss, pushing hard against his shoulders to shove him back.

He leans away, his hands at my hips. I’m still locked tight around his waist, my ankles crossed against his firm ass. I gaze up at him. His lips are pink and swollen with my kisses, his eyes dilated almost black.

“Do you love me, Caleb?” I murmur, searching his face. I need to know. This can’t happen without me knowing first. I can’t handle it otherwise.

“You know I do,” he mutters.

Sucking in a sharp breath, I raise a hand and slap his face.Hard.

He reels with a grunt, his gaze jerking back to glare at me, his eyes now two burning coals.

“Good,” I pant. “Then fuck me like you hate me.”

55

Caleb digs his fingers into the hair at my nape and jerks hard, pulling my head back. “What did you just say to me?”

I smile. “I said fuck me like you hate me. Come on, daddy. You know you want to tear me apart,” I tease. “Make Jake watch. Show us both who runs our shit—”

He silences me with a fierce kiss, his mouth dominating mine, his tongue burying itself deep. His hands cup my breasts and I arch into him, desperate for more. He goes from kneading me to pinching my nipples, clamping down with finger and thumb and twisting until I hiss and slap his hands off. The cool air stings and I shiver, goosebumps breaking out down my arms.

Jake steps forward. “Guys, what are you—”