Everything about his physical appearance eludes power.
Muscularity.
Strength.
Yet he’s so very bashful and restrained with me.
Another turn-on.
“Are you done fluffing?” I ask, teasing as I give my own pillows a solid whack and rolling over on my side to face him.
“Just about.” He’s on his back now, craning his neck to look at me, hesitating a heartbeat, then rolling over too, joining me on his side.
Hands tucked under his cheek, he observes me through those dark soulful eyes, roaming my face before quickly darting down to my breasts. I know without even having to glance down that he’s getting an eyeful of boob, which are no doubt smashed together from the way I’m lying.
Caleb stares a few seconds too long and blows out a puff of pent-up frustration before rolling over and returning promptly to his back, muttering what sounds like, “This was such a bad idea.”
“Did you say something?”
He coughs. “Uh, no?”
Disappointed, I lie where I am, watching him. The dark mop of hair, the sideburns, the hard square of his set jaw. Once again, Cecelia’s words from her last text suddenly stick out in my mind: Just go with it… Just go with it…
She hadn’t finished the sentence, but it came through loud and clear: Just go with it for once in your life.
“Hey, Caleb?”
He stops staring at the ceiling to give me a tortured glance, brows creased together. “Hmm?”
“I think it would be a shame to be in this big bed and let it go to waste, don’t you?” His eyes widen in shock—and who could blame him? Even to my own ears that sounded so, so slutty. I hurry to correct myself. “I mean—I am not suggesting we have sex or anything…” Okay, that just made it worse. “W-what I mean to say is…”
He’s staring at me like I’ve lost my damn mind, and yes, maybe I have.
But if he didn’t smell so amazing… wasn’t lying there half naked with that dark, angry scowl… that thick mop of shocking black hair, and didn’t have that oh-so-sexy gap between his front teeth that he hates—this wouldn’t be happening.
Yup. All of this is his fault.
I watch as he pulls his top lip over his teeth and bits the inside of his cheeks to stop from grinning.
“Are you propositioning me?”
I gasp and sit up, pulling the covers up over my chest. “What! Pfft. No!”
Caleb closes his eyes and puts both arms behind his head, smiling. “Huh. That’s too bad.”
I flop back down, embarrassed, and reach over to flip off the lamp with a huff. Out of the newly dark rooms comes a low, sexy chuckle.
“Stop laughing,” I scold, crossing my arms over my chest protectively.
Thank god he can’t see how red my face is.
“Sorry. I can hear you pouting in the dark, and it’s pretty damn cute.” I can hear him smiling, probably a big ol’ grin with his gap showing.
“Being awkward is part of my charm—or so I’ve been told.”
The room is silent, then…
“I’m partial to it myself,” he says quietly.
For a few minutes, we just lie there in the pitch-black bedroom, and I have nothing to do but relive the moment before, when it sounded like I was asking him to have sex, over and over in my mind, cringing in the dark. Until…
“Hey, Abby?” The mattress and blankets shift as Caleb rolls over on his side to face me.
“Yeah?”
“Where’s your hand?”
It’s really dark in here without the lights on, trust me. Pitch black.
My stomach does a little flip-flop, and my heart does too. Breathlessly, I extend my arm and slide my hand flat on the mattress, forward toward Caleb’s voice, the sound of my palms skimming across the cool sheets permeating the air. “Here.” I give my fingertips a wiggle, scratching them against the mattress.
Caleb’s hand grazes mine under the covers and our fingers entwine.
“I want to kiss you, too.” His voice is a hoarse whisper in the dark.
My breath hitches. “Then w-what are you waiting for?” Brave words, terrible delivery.
Gently tugging my hand toward him, he guides my fingers to his lips. I stifle a surprised gasp as he slowly kisses the pads of my palm, his warm breath on my skin only fueling my own need to touch him.
I resist the urge and am rewarded when the fingers holding my hand begin trialing their way up my arm, the calloused pads of his fingers wreaking utter devastation on my girly bits.
His large hand caresses my shoulder, my collarbone, and my neck, as if his fingertips could memorize every plane of my body. Caleb’s hand cups the side of my face, and he tugs me closer still, his thumb seeking out and stroking my bottom lip.
I let out a sigh.
Holy shit, he’s good at this.
Caleb
Holy shit, she feels good.
As my rough hands skim and caress the delicate skin of her arms, I let my senses savor every soft, sweet part of her: her narrow shoulders, her toned arms, her porcelain collarbone. I rub her glossy, satin hair between my forefinger and thumb before slowly trailing them along the column of her neck, my thumb caressing the underside of her tilted chin, then her bottom lip.