Page 71 of Callan

He looks at me with wonder in his eyes.

“Are you in some kind of danger?” I murmur unable to tear my eyes away from him.

A smile fleets through his gaze.

“Danger? What makes you say that?”

I shrug.

“There are too many people around you. And what’s going on upstairs seems so important to you. And there must be something else. Because you’re not truly interested in that woman.”

He tilts his chin down, narrowing his eyes at me, a muscle throbbing in his face.

His smile is still there, dipped in amusement.

“You probably don’t even need me…” I press further, and his lips relax and part slightly, showing off his strong teeth.

I can only imagine all the women who have dropped their panties and opened their legs only to see him smile like that.

His power to shut down your brain and remove any trace of logical thinking before turning you into putty in his hands and compelling you to follow your primal instincts only to enjoy the feel of him inside your body isunquestionable.

I get a taste of the effects of that insidious force in his eyes as my knees soften, my skin warms and throbbing tension builds inside my body.

“Idoneed you…” he says quietly, staring at my lips as if pondering something, his gloved fingers brushing over my skin. “I need you more than you think,” he adds, and I lose my breath.

He’s either fucking it me, setting me up, testing me, or simply entertaining himself while gauging my reaction.

I was talking about him needing me to collect information about the people living upstairs.

And he sounded like he was talking about me. About needing me. Mackenzie Prince. The unemployed woman extraordinaire with a knack for spying on strange people and selling my services to men like him who scare the shit out of me and arouse me at the same time.

He said that as if the man in him needed the woman in me.

That’s how it came across, but why would he need me?

I must look like a lost puppy with my fingers splayed over his fine wool sleeve, my mouth open, and my eyebrows pushed up in eternal wonder.

What am I supposed to say to that?

“Why…?” I ask, sincerely baffled.

He gives me a smooth laugh, another tool in his seductive toolbox, and flicks his head toward the door of my apartment.

“You never know when I need to climb that balcony again,” he says and winks at me, a soft, languorous gaze wrapping around me like a bow.

My cheeks burn at the idea that he is flirting with me.

His hand slides down, and I fear he’s taking it away just as the door opens upstairs again, and a blizzard of voices rolls into the stairwell. More people leave. Or maybe they’re constantly opening the door to meet and greet the new guests climbing the stairs.

He seems distracted only for a moment before shifting his focus to me, ready to leave. I can see that in his eyes and the way he pulls his shoulders back.

“Make sure you trim your pussy in case I fall on you again,” he tosses at me casually, a smile glinting in his eyes before he leans to me, taking me completely by surprise, and presses his lips to the corner of my mouth.

The contact is brief, yet it comes with the heat of an atomic blast, shaking me to my core, making me tremble, and destroying the rhythm of my heart. Never in my life have I felt something so powerful coming from something so innocent.

Innocent, it wasn’t. I still can’t believe he kissed me. My fingers go to the spot graced by his lips while he smoothly retreats, tall and dressed to the nines with his hands still gloved.

I stare at his back, my lips hurting from the memory of him so close to me.

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