Borrowed Souls (Soul Charmer #1)(36)

“Heard that before.”

“And once I clear his debt, Josh is done with you.”

“Does he know that?”

This was Josh’s rock bottom. He wouldn’t have involved her in this mess if it wasn’t. She almost pleaded with herself that her brother had to know it, had to know worse than this meant death, but Nate didn’t need to see her desperation. Love was just one more weapon that could be used against her.

As Callie began to sink into a growing cesspool of self-pity, Derek joined the conversation. Because things can always get worse.

“I know you?” Nate asked with a scoff.

Derek moved behind Callie, his warm body cocooning her. He peeled Nate’s hand off her arm. His scarred knuckles, hovering above Nate’s tanned ones, were an inherent threat. “No.” That one word held more menace than could be found in the darkest, nastiest biker bar.

“She your date, then?” Nate’s smarminess couldn’t touch her, not with Derek’s torso pressed to her back.

Derek’s chest vibrated against her, like he was supercharged and about to explode. His voice rumbled when he spoke. “Not your business.”

“Oh, but she is my business.” Nate rubbed his hands together. Callie clenched her teeth. He was making her sound like a prostitute.

Derek ignored the implication. “Not anymore.”

The words didn’t sound any scarier to Callie, but Nate took in a big breath. “Ford’s going to want to know why she’s here,” he reminded her again, words full of venom.

Derek stiffened behind her, and then wrapped a possessive hand around her front to cup her hip. “Too bad. You have fifteen seconds to leave.”

Nate shifted from foot to foot. “Or what, man?”

“I make you a ghost.” A monotone threat could make even the biggest, baddest guy piss his pants, if wielded correctly. No surprise, Derek knew this.

Nate understood, too.

He attempted the quintessential tough-guy nod, but it turned shaky as he met Derek’s gaze. He flitted a look to Callie. “Ford’s—”

Derek cut him off. “Seven seconds.”

Nate had too much pride to run, but he sure got himself to the front door in a flash. He glanced back one final time, to shoot Callie a glare promising repercussions, but in the safety of Derek’s hold the fear couldn’t sink her.

“Asshole forgot his drink,” Derek muttered as he moved around Callie to take Nate’s place at the bar.

There’s a fine line between fear and lust. Bad decisions were borne of both. Callie fisted the fabric of Derek’s shirt and yanked him down to her. She must have caught him off-guard, because he didn’t fight her. She pressed her lips against his as raw need flared in her belly. Heat coursed through her body at this little contact. She’d explode if he gave her more.

The pleasure of having his lips against hers was almost too much. The threat of losing it was worse. Any second she knew he’d pull away, to chide her for the choice of time or place. He surprised her when he pushed against her more firmly, opening his mouth to tease her with his tongue. His lips were smoother than she’d predicted, nothing like the rough hand cupping the nape of her neck. She slid her tongue against his in a feverish dance. They weren’t in time with the bombastic music surrounding them, but instead synced with their own racing heartbeats.

Derek yanked her against him, and more than her knees went liquid at his hardness pressing against her stomach. Callie forgot where they were, who they were, and slipped a hand underneath the hem of Derek’s tee shirt. His skin was fevered over his taut muscles. She grazed a light trail of hair. What would she discover on his chest when he was out of that shirt?

More importantly, what would he do when she removed hers? Her breasts already ached, and that was merely from the ferocity of his kiss. The urge to wrap her legs around him and see if he could possess her lit a fire in her core. It also, unfortunately, reminded her she was at a very public place with a very memorable guy.

The fire in their kiss had burned all the oxygen. She pulled away, gasping. As she sucked in air, her brain slowly resumed its normal functions. What had she just done? Nothing screams pathetic like kissing your put-upon partner immediately after he discovers you’re in league with mobsters.

“I’m starting to think you like me protecting you,” he said, fighting and failing to hide a smile.

She wasn’t that girl. She didn’t use relationships or sex to garner good will. She couldn’t deny she appreciated the protection, but she could pretend she didn’t need his help with Nate. “I had it under control.” The lie was foul, but anything would be bitter after the sweetness she’d just sampled.

He cocked a brow.

She tucked her hair behind her ear with a shaking hand. “You did move things along, though, so thanks.”

His bemused grunt made her stomach twist in a delicious way, but her brain, now deciding it would start making rational decisions again, overrode any additional sexy ideas. She wasn’t using him. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“For one of Ford’s men to be here? Or for giving me a raging hard-on?”

She shoved her hands in her pockets. Better to keep them there, where they couldn’t pull Derek back to her. She opened her mouth to reply, not sure how to start, but he cut her off with a chuckle. “Just fucking with you, doll.”