Page 33 of My Rockstar Ex's Broken Vows

The walk feels longer this time, every step heavy with uncertainty. What if he’s gone? What if this was just a fleeting moment, and I’m chasing something that isn’t meant to last? But the thought of him still sitting there, waiting, is enough to push me forward.

When I round the corner to the area where we kissed, my breath catches. He’s still there, sitting on a bench.

He's hunched over with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. The sight hits me like a punch to the chest. He looks different somehow. Not the bold, self-assured rockstar I’ve seen in photos or even the man I kissed just minutes ago.

He looks vulnerable. Raw. It’s not defeat—it’s something else. Even like this, he looks solid, unshakable in a way that pulls me in and breaks me apart all at once.

The streetlights cast a soft glow on him, highlighting the tousled mess of his black hair and the sharp line of his jaw. His leather jacket clings to his lean frame, and the faint scruff on his face catches the light, making him look both rugged and boyish all at once.

I stop a few feet away, my heart hammering in my chest. He’s beautiful in a way that feels almost unfair—effortless and unattainable. In this moment, it’s like he stepped out of a dream. But it’s not just his looks that have me rooted in place. It’s the way he makes me feel.

He lifts his head, and when his eyes meet mine, the blue-gray of them glinting in the dim light, I swear the ground shifts beneath me. For a moment, he just stares, like he’s not sure if I’m real.

"You came back," he says softly, his voice rough around the edges.

I nod, stepping closer. "My feet betrayed me."

His lips twitch, not quite a smile, more like a smirk. "I've always loved your feet."

The tension between us is unbearable, coiled tight and humming in the cold night air. My pulse pounds in my ears as I take another step, closing the distance between us. His hands fall from his face to rest on his knees, and his eyes—those piercing, stormy blue eyes—lock onto mine.

For a moment, neither of us speaks, the silence stretching until it feels like the whole world has stopped to watch us. He leans back on the bench, his hands laced behind his head and his gaze unwavering. "So, what now, Sienna?"

I take a breath, every nerve in my body on edge. He’s waiting, giving me the space to choose, but I don’t need time to think. Not anymore.

"Come home with me," I say, the words firm and sure, even as my heart threatens to beat out of my chest.

His expression shifts, surprise flickering across his face before it’s replaced with something darker, something I’ve seen before but haven’t let myself think about in years.

He studies me for a beat longer, searching for any sign of hesitation. When he doesn’t find one, he stands, towering over me but not intimidating. His gaze softens, and the faintest smirk tugs at his lips. "Lead the way."

Sienna’s Brownstone

9:38 PM

My hand shakesas I fumble with the keys, the cool metal slipping in my fingers. I can feel Callum's eyes on me, heavy and intense, and it makes my heart race even faster. The lock finally gives way, and I push the door open, stepping aside to let him in.

As soon as we're over the threshold, he's on me, his body pressing me against the door with a solid, satisfying thud. His lips find mine in the darkness, hot and insistent, and I open up for him with a needy whimper.

His hands are everywhere, tugging at my coat, sliding under my sweater, and setting my skin on fire with every touch.

I'm just as frantic. My fingers fumble with the buttons of his jacket as my hips rock against him. I’m desperate for any kind of friction. The heavy thud of our coats hitting the floor barely registers over the roar of my pulse in my ears.

His hands skim up my sides, pushing my sweater up and over my head, leaving me in nothing but my bra. His eyes drink mein. The heat in his gaze makes my cheeks flush. "God, you're even more beautiful than I remembered," he murmurs, his voice a low, sexy rumble that sends shivers cascading down my spine. "I’ve never stopped thinking of you, Sienna."

"Callum," I breathe out, pulling him back to me for another kiss. His lips move with mine, and as his tongue slips past my lips, I'm lost. Every part of me is alive with sensation. My body hums with a wild, uncontrollable need for him.

His fingers make quick work of the clasp of my bra, and then it's joining our growing pile of clothes on the floor. His hands are on my breasts then and his thumbs brush over my nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core.

I tug at his shirt, and he breaks away just long enough to yank it off, revealing the lean, muscular lines of his body and the intricate designs of another tattoo on his side. My hands trace the outlines of the ink, feeling the warmth of his skin and the thrum of his heartbeat under my fingertips.

He lifts me up suddenly, and my legs instinctively wrap around his waist. His hands grip my ass, holding me up as he grinds against me, the hard ridge of his erection pressing right where I need him most. I cry out, my nails digging into his shoulders as the pressure builds inside me.

Somehow, we make it to my bedroom, stumbling through the darkness, our lips never parting for long. He lays me down on the bed, the cool sheets a stark contrast to the heat of his body as he follows me down, his hands already working on the button of my jeans.

I help him, kicking my pants off and watching as he sheathes himself with a condom he's pulled from his wallet. The sight ofhim, hard and ready, is almost enough to send me over the edge. "Hurry," I pant out, needing him inside me more than I've ever needed anything.

He positions himself at my entrance, and for a moment, we're both still, the anticipation building between us. And then, with one powerful thrust, he's inside me, filling me completely. The feeling is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain and raw, unfiltered emotion.

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