Page 21 of Callan

He could wrestle me to the ground and possibly take me hostage.

And as strange as it sounds, a part of me wouldn’t dislike that in the slightest.

But the chances of that happening are slim, though.

He seems to have been flooded with women. I’m sure the one upstairs is not the only one breaking her vows to get a little excitement on the side with the man in front of me.

“How can someone like him bail out on someone like you?” he asks, sliding his hands into his pockets, every bump and line across his chiseled body begging for attention.

I can only imagine how nice it would feel to rest my head on those cushy pecs. Or run my lips around his tight nipples.

Yes, he must be in his thirties, but he looks younger.

His eyes give his real age away.

He knows too damn much, yet not enoughnotto risk his life jumping from one balcony to another.

He must be a savage when he takes a woman.

Okay.

I need to stop thinking about sex all the time.

“Why would you ask me something like that?” I push through my tense lips.

He carelessly shrugs a shoulder.

“I don’t know… The way you look?”

“Life isn’t only about looks. As much as life isn’t only about sex.”

“We’ve established that,” he says with a hint of irony in his voice. “And yet, you can’t stop having dirty thoughts about me.”

My mouth falls open in surprise and justified outrage.

“Oh. Fuck you,” I say, mad at him and myself. “You’re such a… Ugh.” I wave him off, angered. “I’m out of here,” I announce. “You know your way out.”

I gesture at the balustrade, suggesting that he could vault over and hit the pavement for all I cared. I just don’t want him anywhere near me.

Without another word, I turn to the door and set one foot in when his hand wraps around my wrist, and I find myself spinning back to him.

My chest hits just below his pecs.

He smells amazing.

And that’s all I notice now?

I’m disgusted with myself.

But he does.

He smells like aftershave and cologne buried deep in his skin.

His other hand smoothly wraps around my neck while his eyes drill into me like blades of fire.

There’s no smile on his face.

“Why did he break up with you?” he asks quietly, gently brushing his thumb over my lips.

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