Page 29 of Snowed In with the Wrong Cowboy
“She wouldn’t listen.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“And now she’s passed out on the couch.”
“You didn’t tell her,” Callum says quietly. “About us.”
My stomach drops. “I couldn’t. Not yet.”
He reaches for my hand and I let him take it. His thumb traces circles on my palm.
“She’s already angry and hurt and if I tell her now…” I shake my head.
“And what about us?” His grip on my hand tightens. “Because there’s an us now. There’s been an us since you walked through that door.”
“Callum…”
His hand slides behind my neck, lips crashing into mine as he shifts, pulling me down with him. The mattress gives beneath us, his body settling over mine.
I gasp against his mouth. “We have to be careful.”
“I’m tired of being careful.”
“Then at least be quiet. We can’t wake her.”
A wicked smile curls at his lips. He dips his head, kissing along my jaw, down my throat.
“I can do quiet,” he says, his hand sliding under the hem of my shirt. “Can you?”
“Callum, we can't. Not with Mackenzie in the next room.”
“She's passed out. Drunk. Dead to the world.”
“Still.”
“Tell me you don't want this.” His mouth is at my ear now. “Tell me you don't want me.”
I should tell him exactly that. But I can't.
Because I do want him. Desperately. Completely. In a way that terrifies me.
“This is wrong,” I whisper.
“I know,” he says, nipping at my neck.
“What happened to the sweet guy from last night? The one who made me cinnamon toast?”
“He's not available right now.”
Then his hands are everywhere… in my hair, on my waist, sliding under my shirt.
“We have to be quiet,” I gasp between kisses.
“Then be quiet.” His hand covers my mouth as his other hand slides into my pants. “Can you do that for me?”
I nod, my whole body on fire.
“Good girl.”
