Page 11 of Pucking Possessive (Kings of Castlebrook #2)

LILAC

T he inside of Callum’s old truck smells like leather and pine, the kind of scent that gets into your lungs and makes you forget to breathe.

The heater rattles like it's on its last leg, and the gearshift squeals every time he changes it, but the cab is warm, and it feels like some kind of private chaos that only Callum Grey can create.

This is the first truck he bought when he was old enough to drive.

Everyone told him to get rid of it and get something sleeker, more expensive, something that would fit in at Castlebrook.

I always loved it. The rumbles, the nostalgia. I think mostly because it’s him. Not flashy, just sturdy and reliable.

I glance down at my hand as he drives because I’m having a hard time looking at him after that kiss.

That felt like years of pent up frustration, and it didn’t feel one-sided to me.

I know I’ve had a lot going on and I’m probably not in the most clear headspace, but there’s something different about Callum tonight and the way he’s looking at me.

The ring catches the light, glinting like it was made for me.

"Callum," I whisper, finally turning to him. "What was that? What are we doing? You can’t possibly think this is going to work. What about your social life? You have so many girls that?—"

He doesn’t look at me right away. Just keeps one hand on the wheel and the other clenched around the gear shift like he’s still trying to process it himself.

“First of all, and I don’t want to explain right now in detail.

There are no other girls, bambi. There is you, and nothing else.

I have reasons for the persona that I put out at this school, secrets that no one knows about.

I just need you to believe me, but I promise I’ll tell you one day.

” I’m shocked by what he’s saying because Callum is always the life of the party, the one all the girls are standing in line, begging him to hook up with them.

I don’t say anything because he looks like he has more to tell me.

“I knew if I told you what I was planning," he says finally, “you'd say no. Because you wouldn't want to drag me into the mess with your parents. But I’m telling you, this is my problem as much as yours. I’m not going to let them do this to you.”

My throat tightens. I blink fast, but the tears don’t fall.

They never do when they’re supposed to because that’s how I was raised, wasn’t it?

Keep it together, and don’t cause a scene was my mother’s favorite thing to say to me whenever I was hurt or distraught.

Instead, I fidget with the ring, spinning it around my finger like I can undo the last ten minutes with a twist.

"What are we going to do?" I ask, quieter now. "I wouldn’t be surprised if the gossip mill hasn’t already reached my parents. They’re going to expect you to actually marry me. Or worse, they’re going to try to force you to?—"

Callum parks the truck under a weeping willow, and it’s not until then that I realize that we’re in the Castlebrook cemetery. He doesn’t miss a beat and cups my jaw, stopping my spiral.

"I’ve protected you for a long time, Lilac. Sometimes you appreciated it. Sometimes you found it annoying?—"

"Demanding that I wear your hoodie over my dress is not protecting me," I roll my eyes because sometimes he really is ridiculous.

He grins. That crooked, unapologetic grin that always makes me want to hit him and kiss him at the same time. "Agree to disagree... future wife."

I blush. Actually blush. Which is insane, because this is Callum. Bold, infuriating Callum, doing big dramatic things without asking because that's just who he is. This whole fake engagement is so very him. I shake my head.

"I'm not going to let your parents force you into marrying someone," he says, serious now. "Especially not Vincent."

"They're going to find out this is fake at some point," I warn.

He frowns, but recovers fast. "It'll buy you some time. And get Vincent off your back. So I don’t have to slit his throat."

I smack his shoulder playfully. "You wouldn’t kill someone."

He turns to me, deadly calm. "I would kill anyone if they did something to you, bambi. I don’t give a fuck. Anyone. No one is safe."

My stomach flips. Heat floods my chest. I hate how much I like that he said that. I don’t eat meat because I’ve seen animals slaughtered on farms, and I can’t stomach it. But the thought of Callum slitting Vincent’s throat to protect me? I’m fucking wet.

"Do you think we can really pull this off?" I ask, changing the subject to anything else but my current wet panty situation. "You know how they are. They’re going to have people watching us. Do you think we can convince them you’re my boyfriend?"

"Fiancé," he corrects.

I roll my eyes. "Come on, Callum. I've never had a relationship, and you’ve, according to the girls on my skating team, had relations with every girl on the planet, but never an actual relationship."

Callum cackles, shaking his head. "That little reputation I curated really took off. People are so gullible. They'll spread any rumor you feed them."

I narrow my eyes. "What do you mean?"

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he grabs my wrist gently and slides me closer to him.

My breath catches, and it’s not because I’m on high alert.

It’s his touch, it just does something to me that I can’t explain.

“Can you name one girl you’ve ever seen me with?

Ever? Ever spoken to anyone that has said I hooked up with them?

Not just a rumor or a rumor that someone heard from someone in some random class? ”

Now that I think about it. No, I can’t. I shake my head, still giving him the most confused look.

He’s already on to the next subject without giving me a real answer when he says, "If we do this, we’re going to have to get up close and personal so people buy it. We have to convince them that you’re smitten enough to let me put my tongue in your mouth and my ring on your finger."

I smack his chest, laughing despite myself. "Do you think we can make this believable? I’ve been kissed one time, and it was at my fake engagement, Callum."

He strokes my face, his touch unexpectedly tender. His big hand is warm, steady, reverent. Oh, he’s selling this hard.

"I think it’ll be an easy job to make people believe that I’m in love with the most beautiful girl at Castlebrook."

My heart stutters.

"I didn’t know you were such a good liar, Cowboy," I tease, but the laugh catches in my throat.

He wiggles his eyebrows. "How are you with PDA?" I roll my eyes because I just told him he was my first kiss.

My cheeks burn. "Vincent was my first date, so I could use some PDA lessons, I think."

"That shit with Vincent was not a date," he snaps, and I think he’s actually pouting, which makes me laugh.

"You really do not like that guy, huh?" I say, before adding, "I guess if I’m honest, I’m not super comfortable or experienced with how to be a girlfriend."

His expression shifts. His eyes grow darker. Hungrier.

"That just means we’ll need lots of practice," Callum murmurs. "My girl would be comfortable sitting on my lap."

Before I can respond, he slides me all the way onto him.

The sensation is jarring, heat and pressure and his sheer size under me. My thighs shake slightly as I settle across him, straddling him in the cramped cab. His hands are strong around my waist, guiding me into place, and I feel everything. Every inch of him, hard and thick beneath me.

"I don’t think that asshole is going to let you go without a fight," he mutters, eyes locked on mine. "I wouldn’t, so I can’t blame him. But I can beat the fucking life out of him."

I gasp, and Callum takes the opportunity to lean forward, brushing his lips against mine.

"Kiss me, Lilac. Kiss me like I’m your fiancé." Callum looks at me for a moment and then says, “We need to act like a couple in and out of public if we’re going to get the upper hand.”

The second kiss of my life is like absolute fire.

It’s raw and consuming. His lips crash into mine like he’s starved for something he doesn’t know how to ask for.

His hands roam, awkward at first, like he’s navigating on instinct alone, but is determined to memorize every curve.

He fumbles at my waist, then smooths upward until he's cupping my breasts through my dress like he’s afraid he might break me.

I moan softly against his mouth, and it spurs him on.

I swear Callum’s fingers tremble as he pulls the neckline down, baring my bare breasts to the cool air. He breathes out hard when he sees me, like he’s never seen a girl naked before. I should be the nervous one, but he looks like he’s either overwhelmed or having a religious experience.

"Is this okay?" he whispers, almost reverently. "I know you don’t like when people touch you."

I still. Then, slowly, I meet his eyes and whisper, "It’s not that way with you. It never has been."

His mouth crashes to my chest, lips closing over one nipple, sucking hungrily.

His tongue is warm, sloppy, a little too eager, but it makes me dizzy with how badly he wants me.

He shifts to the other, tugging the dusty, pink bud into his mouth while his hands squeeze clumsily at my waist and hips like he can’t figure out where to touch first.

My head falls back, fingers knocking his hat off so they can dive into his thick hair, and he groans when I pull. He leans into my hands like he’s touch-starved, grinding his hips up against me as if he can’t help it.

I can feel how hard he is beneath me. And I want more. More of this. More of him.

More pressure. More of his mouth. More of this feeling that’s unraveling me from the inside out.

Callum lets go of my nipple with a pop, leans back slightly, cups the back of my head, and kisses me again.

It’s slower this time, deeper, gentler. It only lasts a moment though because he’s pulling away, and looking down at the way my nipple looks rolling between his fingers.

Just as his mouth finds my breast again, ready to devour me whole it seems, there’s a sudden bang.

Something slams against the windshield, and the glass cracks.

Callum reacts instantly. He helps me off his lap as I fix my dress. Then he’s out of the truck, scanning the darkness. There’s a rock lying on the hood that bounced off the windshield. A note is tied to it, and the words are scribbled in black Sharpie.

Don’t be a hero.

I fix my dress and climb out of the truck because I’m scared. I’ve realized lately that the only time I actually feel safe is with the man standing in front of me. "Callum..."

"Stay behind me," he mutters. We both look around, but no one’s there. Just shadows.

"It could be a prank," I offer. “I don’t think Vincent would do something like this. It seems beneath him. He’d offer you money to hand me over before he’d resort to tossing rocks.”

“Or it could be about the night at the mansion,” Callum says, looking around again.

Before either of us can try to figure out what’s going on, my brother appears silently from the other direction. I glance behind him and see his sports car parked at the entrance of the cemetery.

He’s furious.

He lunges for Callum. They collide, but Callum gets him in a headlock until he taps out.

"What the fuck are you doing with my sister? You’re fucking everything up for me!" Adam screams, and I realize that he must know about the engagement, because I truly doubt he’d care what I was doing inside anyone’s truck.

Callum lets him go only to shove him back and snarls, "Did you throw that rock?"

My brother blinks, thrown off. "What rock? I came here to kick your ass, not throw rocks."

Callum points to the cracked windshield. "You could’ve hit her! Are you fucking insane?"

"I didn’t throw anything!" Adam yells, and I believe him. I know when he’s lying, and he’s not right now.

"If you had hit her—" Callum’s jaw ticks, chest heaving.

My brother turns to me. "Lilac. Go get in my car. Now."

I shake my head. "No. I’m staying with Callum."

Callum reaches back and grabs my hand, threading his fingers through mine. A silent, stubborn promise. He’s not letting go of me, not even for his best friend. I don’t want to be the reason for their friendship ending, but it seems to me Adam is doing a good job of facilitating that all on his own.

"Wait until Mom hears you’re with this guy," my brother snaps, acting like Callum is beneath him. I’m embarrassed to say he’s my family, and that we share the same blood.

"He’s your best friend, don’t—" I start, but he storms toward me.

Callum steps in front of me.

"You’ve been my best friend for a long time," he growls, "but I’ll take your fucking head off if you touch her."

They stare each other down and when Adam wavers, backing up, only then does Callum speak, "Come on, bambi."

He scoops me into his arms like I was made for him to carry like this. I hear Adam stomping away to his car.

"Are you taking me home?" I ask Callum, and I’m breathless.

"Only because I have to deal with your brother," he says. "And I know you’re going to fight me on this, but we need to talk tomorrow about you moving into my place, so this whole thing seems believable."

“Me? Fight you on anything you say?” I joke, trying to keep things lighter than what they feel. My stomach flips when his fingers graze my ribs just under my breasts. “I think we can pull it off to at least convince my parents.”

The tingling feeling only gets more intense when Callum dips his head to kiss my shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world to him. “I have some ideas on how to get comfortable with each other, but you’re going to have to trust me.”

I don’t have time to reply or even process what he’s saying because he’s opening the passenger door and slipping me inside like it’s his job to take care of me. Callum has always been around whenever I needed him, and sometimes when I don’t even realize that I need him.

So I have to remind myself this isn’t real, or I’m going to get my heart crushed into a million little pieces.

He’s just doing this to help me out because I’m his best friend’s little sister.

I’m the obligation he took on when he didn’t have to.

I’m the only girl he’d never look at the way it feels like he’s looking at me right now.

Right?