Fight or Flight

I swallowed hard, feeling more sober than I had downstairs. “Yup.”

“Still want this?”

There was a doubtful voice in the back of my head, the one that was quickly sobering up, telling me to stop this nonsense. But my blood was too hot and my inhibitions were down. I wanted sex. End of story. I nodded. “Do you still want this?”

Caleb’s response was as straightforward as ever. He crossed the distance between us, slipped his hands into my hair, and tugged me toward him. His mouth slammed down on mine, his kiss hard, hungry, needy—everything I couldn’t remember ever having.

I wrapped my arms around his waist, my fingers curling into his shirt as I tried to match his ferocious kiss. His tongue swept against mine and I groaned as lust shot through me, making my breasts tingle and my belly tighten. I found myself being pushed toward the bed as his large hands gently extricated themselves from my hair, slid down over my breasts, the pads of his fingers just tickling the swell of my cleavage. My nipples peaked against my bra as his fingers trailed down my stomach and his hands gripped my waist. All the time he kept kissing me.

I was jolted out of the kiss when he abruptly spun me around and moved my hair out of the way of my zipper. “You have gorgeous hair.”

“Thanks,” I whispered, shivering as he tugged the zipper down on the dress. He brushed the fabric away from my shoulders and I took over, releasing my arms from the short sleeves and pushing it down from my waist until it dropped to the floor. I stepped out of the fabric, wobbling a little in my heels as I undressed.

I felt his breath on my neck as he dragged the back of his knuckles down my spine. “Perfect,” he murmured.

Feeling hot—way too hot—I spun back around, reaching for him, but suddenly he gripped my waist again. He lifted me up like I weighed nothing and dropped me on the bed with a bounce. I made a little squeak of surprise.

Caleb towered over me, his body tense, his features taut, his eyes hot as they dragged over my body. I wore a matching black lacy bra and underwear. Something flickered in his expression—something I didn’t like—and he took a step back from the bed.

Confusion made me tilt my head. “Where are you going?”

He didn’t answer but a muscle ticked in his jaw.

Feeling vulnerable, I felt the snarkiness that had left me down in the bar return. “I’m sitting on your bed in my bra and underwear. Don’t be an asshole. Are we doing this or am I putting my dress back on?”

And just like that, he grinned at me. God, the man gave mood swings a new meaning! “Underwear off, babe.”

“Please.”

He shook his head. “Not even for sex.”

I rolled my eyes but reached for the clasp on my bra. I shimmied it off and dropped it at his feet. I knew I had great boobs. Right now they were swollen and my nipples were tight. I sat back on my hands, the natural arch of my back thrusting my favorite assets out.

The Scot’s gaze devoured me. “Jesus,” he muttered.

The tingling between my legs worsened. “I’m going to assume that means you like what you see.”

“Was it the hard-on that gave it away?”

My eyes lowered to where a bulge was straining the crotch of his jeans. A fizzle of deep, gnawing need hit me in the gut. God, I hoped he knew what he was doing because if so this was going to be delicious.

Caleb began unbuttoning his shirt with quick fingers, and my mouth really did go dry as I watched him rip the damn thing off. Only his left arm was covered in a full sleeve of tattoos, and the design continued onto the muscular left pec. There was a solo tattoo at the top of his right arm. Now I could see that above the modern soldier on his left arm, there was a kilted soldier like the ones I’d seen depicted in Outlander. The smoke above him gave way to a Spartan in among the ruins of an ancient building with broken columns. The clouds of smoke, debris, and ribbons of tattered material were drawn downward from his shoulder and collarbone to his pec, where words on two ribbons, one above the other, were tattooed. They read: “I don’t know how I’m going to win. I just know I’m not going to lose.”

My eyes wandered over the muscles of his six-pack and those broad, delicious shoulders to the other tattoo. It was of a skull sitting on a huge black rose.

His large bicep flexed as he began to unbutton the top button of his jeans. I licked my lips as I dragged my eyes back over to his muscled stomach. Lust flooded me. “Oh dear God.”

Caleb’s smile was full of ego. “Did he finally answer your prayers, babe?”

“Depends on what you’ve got in the pants.”

It was unclear who was more surprised by his sudden bark of laughter, me or him. It made me smile, though. Laughter suited him. He should laugh more. I grew steadily more turned on as I took in the sight of him and thought of all that masculine beauty becoming mine. Not that I dated, but when I did find myself attracted to a guy, he usually had lean muscle rather than brawn.

But I wasn’t complaining about Caleb’s physique in the least.

My eyes dropped to where the Scot’s jeans, now open at the top, hung low on his narrow hips, the hard-cut V of his obliques so goddamn sexy I was about to self-combust.

“Please take those off now.”

“Always so well mannered.”

“Just take them off.”

His answer was to kneel down and quickly unlace his boots. Staring at me, that arrogant heat in his eyes really far too attractive to be fair, he kicked them off.

I physically shivered, shuddered even, at the sound of his zipper cutting through the tense silence of the room. Caleb curled his thumbs into the waist of his jeans and his boxer briefs (black, of course) and shoved them down. He kicked them off too.

“Oh my.” I practically wheezed at the sight of his straining erection. “That … well … that’s …”

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘impressive.’ ”

“It seems a little unfair actually to all the other penises.”

Caleb’s grin this time was just all pure boyish amusement, and I decided it was my favorite of his smiles so far. He reached toward me and grabbed the heels of both of my shoes and slipped them off.

Every inch of me was a live wire, restless, too hot, sensitive. I never knew it was possible to be so sexually hungry. I’d had great sex in the past but I’d never felt like I might just explode at his first touch.

“We need to have sex. Now.”

Caleb placed his hands on my knees, his thumbs on the inside of my legs, and he slowly coasted them upward.

“Oh boy.”

His lips twitched but he was too focused on his destination to really smile. He reached the apex of my thighs but he kept going, his thumbs meeting in the middle over the lace of my underwear. I gasped as he pressed his thumbs down.

I immediately flopped back on the bed and let my legs fall open. “Oh God, yes.”

“You keep calling me God, lass, and my ego might get out of control,” he murmured.

“Your ego is already the size of Mars—nothing I say can make it any worse.” My hips arched off the bed into his touch, but he only rubbed his thumbs over me once more before he stopped. I lifted my head to glare at him. “Why did you just stop?”

Caleb didn’t reply. He didn’t need to. I could see all patience had fled his expression. Suddenly his fingers were brushing my lower belly, curling into my underwear. He wrenched them down my legs. A little huff of excitement escaped me.

Caleb’s eyes darkened. He moved over me, straddling me, his hands braced at either side of my head. The heat of him engulfed me as he stared into my eyes and smoothed his hand up my naked thigh.

“Caleb.” I breathed, any vulnerability I should have felt at lying so small beneath this big stranger obliterated by the voracious need I felt for him.

He reached between my legs, watching me with an intensity that caused my breath to catch as I lifted my hips into his touch.

“You’re so beautiful.” He stopped teasing my clit and slid three thick fingers into me. My inner muscles clamped around him in desperate need. “You feel beautiful too.”

Something about the words didn’t sound like a compliment. “Your tone suggests that’s a bad thing,” I gasped out.