The Coincidence of Callie and Kayden(80)

He blinks at me and then reaching over his shoulder, he tugs his shirt over his head and discards it on the floor. I saw him with his shirt off once, at the pool house. This is different though. The light emphasizes every single white scar, small and big, on his lean chest, his arms, his firm stomach. Some are as tiny as my fingernail, some bigger, and there is one that tracks all the way down the front of him.

Impulsively, I lean forward, shut my eyes, and touch my lips to the middle of his chest above his heart, my breath feathering his skin.

“Callie,” he says as his muscles stiffen. “I don’t think…” He trails off as I begin to place kisses all over his chest, making sure to touch each scar, wishing it would take the memories of them away, but knowing memories that dark don’t go away.

My head travels upward to his collarbone, his neck, his chin. I don’t know what I’m doing or what I’m feeling, but it’s new and raw and sends adrenaline through my body. When I reach his lips, I place a kiss on them and then move away.

His eyes are amplified, his breathing erratic, and his face is filled with agony. I tense, worried I’ve done something wrong, but then his expression softens. He cups his hand around the back of my neck, his fingertips pressing into my skin as he leans in to kiss me with so much passion it rips away all the cold inside my body.

He backs us toward the bed, slipping the jacket off my shoulders and reaching for the bottom of my shirt. I tell myself I can handle it; that he’s not going to hurt me as I raise my arms and he lifts it over my head.

A big step and it scares the shit out of me, but he crashes his lips into mine before my thoughts can catch up. I clutch onto his biceps as he unhooks the clasp of my bra and it falls off my arms. I barely breathe at the feel of his bare skin touching mine. It feels good. And bad. It feels like everything I’ve wanted, but didn’t think I could have.

His lips leave my mouth and move downward across the hollow of my neck, pausing at the top of my chest. My eyes roll shut at the first touch of his mouth against my nipple. I fist my hands, unsure where to channel the helpless energy as he slides his tongue along the curve of my breast. A pleading cry flees my lips as my knees start to give out. He grips at my waist, his palms scorching with heat as he steadies me, and makes a path of kisses across my chest. A tingly sensation spreads between my thighs and I cry out, grabbing handfuls of his hair as my heart throbs inside my chest.

“You’re so beautiful,” Kayden murmurs as I struggle to stay on my feet.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mutters as he pins me down. I struggle to break free, but his knees press down on my shins and his fingers wrap around my wrists, trapping my arms above my head.

It all comes crashing down like the rain and the lightning outside. My eyes snap open and I jerk away, folding my arms across my chest. “I-I’m sorry. I-I can’t do this.”

He blinks his eyes, shocked. “What’s wrong?”

I turn in a circle, searching the floor. “It’s nothing. I just need my shirt.” I kick some of the clothes on the floor out of the way, my lungs squeezing tightly, constricting my oxygen flow. “I just need my shirt.”

His fingers graze my arm and I flinch, sucking in a deep breath, forcing back the tears. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he begs.

“It’s nothing.” I shrug off his hand as tears spill from my eyes. “I just need to go.”

His hands come down on my shoulders and he forces me to face him. I keep my eyes locked on the floor, refusing to look at him. He hooks his finger under my chin and elevates my face upward.

He scans the tears and his eyes widen. “Oh my god, I thought you were okay with going that far. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not you or that.” I wrench my face away from him and back toward the door with my arms still covering my chest.

“Then, what is it?” He steps toward me, searching my eyes desperately for an answer. “Callie, you’re really freaking me out right now. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

I shake my head, backing away, my shoulders curling inward in humiliation. “I can’t tell you. I just need to go.”

As the foul feeling in my stomach begins to build, owning me, controlling me, I reel for the door, ready to run out without a shirt on. He hurries in front of me, blocking my way with his body.

“You can’t walk out there like that,” he says, his eyes skimming my bare chest.

“I need to get out of here,” I choke, clutching at my stomach.