Fight or Flight(73)
He shifted in his seat and drank the rest of his coffee before finally meeting my eyes.
My heart had started to race, wondering when I had become such a masochist, daring a man who could hurt me to be his usual bitingly honest self.
“There wasn’t much time tae tell you. And anyway, I quite liked the idea of surprising you. And as it turned out”—his ice eyes turned smoky with want—“it was a brilliant idea.”
Relief flooded me and I almost hated him a little for having this kind of control over my emotions and body. “It was a nice surprise.”
“That’s not how I would describe it. And I’m guessing from that reunion that you are more than happy tae start this up again.”
The reminder of how I’d acted on the boat, that unleashing of my savage desire, almost made me blush. Instead, I offered him a self-deprecating laugh, feeling a weird mixture of fear and giddiness that I no longer had to miss and long for him. He was right here and he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
Quite abruptly Caleb stood up and reached over, taking the mug of coffee out of my hand. I watched him, my eyes lingering on his ass as he strode over to the kitchen. His shirt was hastily tucked back into his suit pants, the aforementioned spectacularly fitting ones showcasing that strong, muscular ass in a way that made my nipples pebble against my bra.
He put the coffee mugs into the sink and casually returned to me. But what he did next was anything but casual. He got on his knees before me and pulled my legs apart, forcing me to open them and sit up. His big hands smoothed over the tops of my thighs, shoving the hem of my dress up as he leaned into me, his gaze on my lips.
“I’ve missed this mouth,” he whispered before capturing said mouth in a kiss that brought tears to my eyes. Tears I valiantly forced back.
It was the best kiss of my life.
It was like he was drinking from me, a deep, slow, mesmerizing kiss that made my heart slam hard against my chest. It was the kind of sweet, sexy, thorough kiss that confused a woman, because it said I meant more to him than just sex.
It said he hadn’t just missed my mouth.
He’d missed me.
My hands caught his stubbled, prickly cheeks to hold him to me, not wanting that kiss to end anytime soon. Between the thorough seduction of his mouth and the way his thumbs caressed the inner skin of my thigh, I could feel my body melting, sweet and pliant and ready for him.
His right hand abandoned my thigh to take hold of my left wrist. I instinctively knew his intention was to put my hand where he wanted to feel it most because he was never shy in telling me what he needed from me, but he froze as his fingers brushed the bracelet on my wrist.
To my disappointment, he broke the delicious kiss to turn his head and look at the object.
Caleb’s eyes lingered on the diamond tennis bracelet for a second or two before returning to meet mine. There was a rare smile in that cool gaze and it made my breath catch. “You like it, then?”
I jerked my eyes from his to the bracelet, afraid that if I continued to let him see me, he’d see into me. He’d see the truth that I was struggling so hard to deny now that he was back.
“Very much,” I whispered.
I felt his gaze burning into my face, but I kept mine on the bracelet.
Then he was kissing me again, this time more fiercely, the tenderness gone, replaced by what felt like a need to claim. It was a ferocious, ravaging, possessive kiss, and while it thrilled me a little, it also pissed me off.
Did he think he’d won something by putting that bracelet on me? Did he think that I was his? Because no woman could truly belong to a man unless she knew he belonged to her in return. And Caleb Scott did not belong to me.
So I fought his claiming; I turned the kiss into a battle for supremacy.
I couldn’t say which one of us tormented and teased the other more as our kisses, our caresses caught fire. All I knew as the night wore on was that I felt like a warrior equal to him, that I could set him ablaze just as much as he made me mindless with passion. In bed Caleb did belong to me and I belonged to him.
It was a battle with no clear winner. An impasse.
My feelings were most definitely engaged, but I buried that truth, knowing if I let those feelings reign it would lead to an inevitable war between us. A war for Caleb Scott’s heart.
A war I knew I would lose.
Twenty-two
The sound of rustling woke me up, and when I felt the mattress bounce slightly, I sleepily rolled over and blinked my eyes open. After wincing against the morning light for a second or two, I finally took in the sight of Caleb pulling on his pants.
“Morning,” I mumbled.
“Morning, babe,” he replied quietly, giving me a little satisfied smile as he shrugged on his shirt.
As cognizance returned to me, I looked back at my alarm clock and saw it was only after nine in the morning. “You’re leaving? You don’t want breakfast?”
“I promised Jamie we’d do the tourist thing together today. I need tae get back.”
I stopped myself from telling him how sweet it was that he wanted to spend time with his younger brother and instead just let myself think it. Evidence so far suggested Caleb was a good brother.
“Let’s do dinner, though,” he said, sitting down on the bed to put his socks and shoes back on.
About to agree, I stopped in my tracks as I remembered I had a date that night.