Caleb

by McCarty, Sarah

  “Hungry again?”

  She looked up. Caleb stood in the doorway, leaning against the jamb, looking so damn masculine she couldn’t fault her pulse for kicking it up a notch. He tipped his head back, revealing his own hunger as his gaze dipped to the gaping front of her robe. He was wearing his hat, which meant he was planning on going out. “I’m sorry.”

  He pushed away from the wall, his fingers going to his shirt. “Why? Part of my he-man charm is I like providing for you.”

  “You were going out.”

  He smiled. “Staying in looks much more interesting.”

  Two steps and he was beside her. His hat landed on the nearest bedpost as his shirt fell open, revealing the hard curve of his pectorals and the washboard temptation of his flat abdomen. The mattress dipped under the press of his knee. She leaned back against the headboard, letting his laugh flow over her like the softest of blankets, sliding her hands up his chest as he came down, her head dropping naturally into the cradle of his palm.

  Caleb’s lips touched her ear, her throat. Soft, breathless little cherishings so contradictory to the violent emotion she could feel pulsing under his skin.

  “What are you doing?”

  Laughter buffed her skin. “You can’t tell?”

  She shivered as he traced the curve of her ear with his tongue. “You’re angry.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You’re not acting angry.”

  The bed dipped as he braced himself over her. Amusement dented the right corner of his mouth. “How do you want me to act?” Allie shrugged. “Like a mad man?”

  A press of his fingers and her face turned to his. Desire and anger merged in the lines there, carving an image into her mind of his power, his intensity, which only served to remind how much she enjoyed those qualities of his when they were in bed.

  “I think we’ve played with madmen enough today.”

  She slid her hands over his shoulders, and gave a little tug. “Ugh! That pun was so lame.”

  “Hmm.” He lowered his head. “Blame it on my being distracted.”

  Glancing between them, she saw her robe had completely slid off the right side of her chest. His face blurred as he came closer, coming between her and the light. Her night vision kicked in, taking the color from his face and leaving it in austere black and white, highlighting the confidence and strength he wore so easily. So different from her, leaving her to again wrestle with the same question she’d had since meeting him: What did he see in her?

  The answer wasn’t in his eyes. There, she could see only the iridescent swirls in his gaze. He knew everything she was thinking, and she couldn’t even figure out if he was angry or passionate. “We are so not right for each other.”

  His lips aligned with hers, top to bottom, edge to edge, in the barest of contact that somehow felt like everything. “You feel pretty right to me.”

  She shivered as the delicate friction of his statement wove to her center. She wiggled in his grip, not realizing how betraying the gesture was until he laughed softly, seductively. “Open your mouth, Allie girl.”

  Suddenly, she didn’t want to. There was something about him this time. Something determined. Something that said this was more than sex.

  The stroke of his thumbs at the corner of her lips had them opening despite her reluctance. “It’s always been more.”

  The words breathed into her mouth, over her tongue. She took them deeper with her next inhalation, feeling them flow through her being, lodging with certainty in areas they had no business being. Not in any woman born in the twentieth century anyway.

  “You’re taking over.”

  Caleb accepted the accusation with the same calm assurance that he accepted responsibility for her weight, scooting her down, lowering her to the mattress slowly, gradually, following her down, covering her in the same slow process. He propped himself above her on one elbow and pushed her bangs away from her face. “There can only be one boss in any outfit.”

  She slipped her arms around his shoulders as her head hit the pillow. “Why can’t it be me?”

  His shoulders blocked out the last of the light. “Because you prefer it to be me.”

  Yes, she did. At least when it came to the bedroom. Especially when he tilted his head just that way, fitted their mouths together the same way he fitted inside her soul. One millimeter at a time, one breathless moment at a time, blending anticipation with expectation, hope with promise, until with a thrust of his tongue, delivered both. Her whimper matched his groan, as if he, too, felt the power of the moment, the welding that wouldn’t be denied. His fingers curled in her hair, tipping her head back, opening her mouth for more. More of his kiss, his possession.

  And she accepted it, welcomed it even. As different as they were, she’d waited her whole life for a moment like this, a man like this. Passion welled out of lust, emotion out of passion. She didn’t name it, wouldn’t name it, but she felt it. From the tips of her toes to the depth of her heart, but if she whispered it, she’d be lost. Given over to another lifestyle, a future she wasn’t sure she wanted. Given over to a man who thought so much differently than she did. A man who had continually threatened to spank her.

  Caleb drew his lips from hers. “What’s going on in that brain of yours, Allie?”

  Oh sure, the one time his snooping would be useful, he chose to respect her wishes. She kissed the peak of his upper lip, that slight, totally masculine curve that always intrigued her. “What makes you think I can think of anything when you’re kissing me?”

  “You’re not kissing me back with your usual enthusiasm.”

  She made a note to work on her multitasking. “I’m just wondering how serious you are about what you said before.”

  It could not be coincidence that his hand opened on her back and slid down her spine. “About what?”

  “You know.”

  “What if I don’t?”

  His fingers eased over the curve of her butt. He so knew. “You do.”

  “You in a hurry to get to your paddling?”

  “You’re not?”

  “Not particularly.”

  She curled her fingers into his hair. She loved the way the thick strands felt against her hands. Straight and cool as silk to the ends, and then just the hint of curl, just enough to catch on her fingers. “Then I guess we can just forget the whole spanking thing.”

  Allie caught the glimmer of his teeth before he captured her lower lip. He bit down, just enough to let her feel the sharp edge, just taking the seductive pleasure to the edge of pain. Her back arched instinctively at his taunt, presenting herself for more, blatantly tempting him to give her more. Caleb leaned back, tugging her lip erotically before letting it go. She sucked it into her mouth, soothing the sting with her tongue, savoring his lingering taste.

  Allie had a lot to learn about him, Caleb decided. He watched her tongue slide over her lip, gathering the flavor of his kiss, watched her nostrils flare as his taste melted through her mouth. Watched as her cheeks worked and her spine drew taut and arched. Watched and suffered the agony of his desire. Never sated, still humming from the frustration of earlier. It would be so easy to forget about her disobedience. So easy, but it would be a mistake.

  Reaching out with his finger, he lengthened his talon and sliced through the tie on her robe, baring the shallow valley between her pert breasts. They shivered with her indrawn breath. Her big blue eyes widened suspiciously and excitedly at once. The edge of violence that surrounded their lovemaking excited her. The robe’s lapels parted before his hand’s descent, baring the white flesh of her stomach. An intriguing trail of goose bumps sprang up in the wake of his touch.

  He bent. She gasped again. A fine sheen of sweat appeared on her skin, tantalizingly sweet and lightly musky, a prelude to the deeper scent he knew awaited him, lower. He lapped the first bead of sweat from the delicate valley. “It would be a mistake, baby, to think I don’t always mean what I say.”

  He had her flipped and
pinned with an arm across her back before the meaning sank beneath the sensual haze. Her legs dangled over the edge of the bed, giving her no leverage but plenty to him. The full curves of her rear pressed up and out against the soft cotton of her robe. Allie had a very pretty ass. He stroked the full curve or her right cheek, patting it lightly, smiling when she jumped as if he’d landed a blow, her screech loud enough to wake the dead, assuming they weren’t already wandering about.

  “Don’t you dare, Caleb Johnson.”

  He held back a smile and shook his head as tension shot up her spine. He was mad as hell at her, but she could still make him smile. “Baby, I dare about anything.”

  “Not this.”

  Her muscles quivered with the strain of pushing in vain against his grip. She really had been shortchanged in the muscle department. A squeeze to her butt had her squeaking and jumping again. “Yes, even this.”

  He hooked a talon on the neck of her robe. A woman sometimes had to test a man’s strength to trust in it. “Next time I tell you to stay put, you’ll stay.”

  “Is that an order?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then for sure you’re out of luck.”

  There was another screech as his talon tickled her nape. “This is my only robe!”

  Her ass waved as she tried to get away, too much lush temptation for a red-blooded man to resist. He gave it a tweak. “Good.”

  He didn’t like her wearing clothes that showed the full curve of her hips, and the soft fullness of her thighs, and the thin robe did both. Even over pajamas. She was too pretty, and with her vampire allure, too tempting. “I don’t feel like spending my days beating men off you with a stick.”

  She stopped struggling. Her hair fanned out as she looked over her shoulder, then settled around her face in a silent cloud. “You think I’m that sexy?”

  How could she doubt it? “Oh yeah. And as soon as I get done paddling this sweet ass, I’ll prove it to you.”

  Her head whipped around, her body shaking with the strain of holding the position. There wasn’t an ounce of worry in her expression. “You wouldn’t hurt me to save your life.”

  He did love the way her eyes glittered with shards of deeper blue when her emotions were aroused. And the light flush on her cheeks only served to enhance the effect. “Are you sure?”

  He sliced through the rest of the robe. It parted in two falls of white, revealing her skin in a slow slide revealing her neck, the delicate line of her spine, the nipped-in curve of her waist, the flare of her hips, the swell of her buttocks . . . He replaced the material with his palm, raising his body temperature so she felt it more.

  “If you keep cutting up my clothes, I’m going to have nothing to wear.”

  “Naked does have its appeal.”

  “I thought you were threatening me?”

  He was. He never wanted to repeat the moment when she’d been separated from him, not knowing what they intended, unable to protect her from whatever was about to happen, not knowing if she’d survived. He brought his hand up. “Brace yourself.”

  She relaxed completely. The scent of soap and arousal rose with his hand. He brought his arm down with every intention of blistering her ass, but at the last minute he found himself pulling back the force, until all he delivered to the smooth white flesh was a light pat. She laughed, and then hummed under her breath. “This could be fun.”

  He shook his head, keeping his hand where it was, tucking it around the lush curve, slipping the fingertips into the crease between the plump cheeks, holding her still. “Does nothing put the fear of God into you?”

  “The thought of losing you.”

  It was one of those spontaneous admissions that could tear out a man’s heart. Or make him crazy with joy.

  He patted her butt again. His granddaddy would turn over in his grave at Allie’s willful nature, but Caleb didn’t really want her any other way. “Now you did it.”

  She wiggled. “Did what?”

  “Unleashed the beast.”

  Another wiggle. “I like the beast.”

  Yes, she did. And so did he. He slid his hand under her stomach, turning her over. Her hands opened in surrender. He caught them in his, pressing them into the mattress beside her head as he braced himself on his forearms above her. “You don’t leave a man much ammunition, Allie girl.”

  “It’s a natural talent.”

  He kissed her cheek. She wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, but now I’m feeling a little cheated.”

  “Why?”

  “In my day, if a woman put herself at risk, a man got to have his eighteen sixties moment, fair and square.”

  “At the risk of repeating myself, it’s no longer ‘your day.’ ”

  “Uh-huh.” He kissed her other cheek, lingering for a bit. “But it did have its moments.”

  “Charming ones, I’m sure,” she said with a dry bit of sarcasm.

  “It was, actually.”

  Roles had been very clearly defined in his day. A woman waited on her man, deferred to his wishes, at least in public, and pretty much let him run the show. And men, well, at least the men he knew, cherished the women who filled their lives with love, comfort, and all the other softness so devoid from the land around them.

  “I’ve read about how charming it was. Men owned women and treated their ‘possessions’ any way they wanted. Beat them, abused them, cheated on them, and basically behaved as complete asses if they wanted, without anyone having a say. Least of all the poor women involved.”

  He shook his head. She’d read about it. Hard to believe what was vividly real to him was dry history for her. She’d kept saying they thought differently, but until this moment he’d never wrapped his mind around the depth of the chasm between them. “I imagine each century has its share of assholes, but in the majority of households, life was a partnership. It had to be. You depended on each other for survival.”

  The doubt on her face didn’t lighten. He rested his forehead against hers, timing his breaths so he breathed in as she breathed out, the tiny culmination of taking her breath into his lungs, holding it safe until she needed the next one before breathing out and giving it to her, calmed him. “Underneath all the rules, a woman trusted her man to take care of her.”

  “And if he didn’t?”

  “I don’t know about back east, but where I come from, women were more precious than gold. Any man caught abusing one would soon be short his woman and probably his life.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Hard to believe, considering your constant threats to beat me.”

  “That’s more a figure of speech than a real threat, and you know it.”

  He kissed her lips, smiling as they parted immediately. “You can’t keep doing what you want all the time, Allie.”

  She tilted her head to the side “Why not? It works for me.”

  “Your doing what you wanted almost got you killed today.”

  “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “But it wasn’t.”

  Her lips flattened and then pursed. The fight left her body in a drawn-out breath. “No, it wasn’t.”

  Thank God, she could admit to mistakes. He touched her nose to his. “So maybe when it comes to those situations, you could follow my orders?”

  Her nose pressed back as she wrinkled it. “Orders aren’t my thing.”

  “Seeing you raped or killed isn’t mine.” Dark anger surged through him as he remembered the moment before all had gone black when Vincent had allowed him to see Allie struggling for air as he’d slowly strangled her, cutting off the connection before he’d known if she’d live or die. “So we’ve got to come up with a better system.”

  He had to wait three seconds before Allie presented her compromise. “How about I promise to try?”

  Knowing how impulsive she was, he figured that was about as good as he was going to get. “I’ll take it.”

  “But no more threats of spanking.”

  “I promise, unless you’re hot for
it, no spankings.” He tipped her head back, letting desire thrum along the residual anger simmering in his blood, drowning it in the fire of lust. “But now we’ve got a problem.”

  She swallowed, tipping her head back farther as he brushed his mouth along her jawline. “We do?”

  He took the lobe of her ear between his lips. “My brothers are very eighteen sixties.”

  She tilted her head into the caress. “So?”

  “If they don’t hear some screams soon, I’m going to go way down in their estimation as a man who can’t handle his woman.”

  “And that matters to me how?” Her fingers wrapped around his forearms, tickling along the hairs there, sensitizing his skin.

  “A man low on confidence isn’t much good in the bedroom.”

  The smile he loved showed in her eyes as her ankle curved behind his knee. Despite the invitation in her body, he felt resistance, almost a reluctance, that worried him. “We can’t have that.”

  He pressed his lips against her neck to the accelerated beat of her pulse. Her body’s hunger and need summoned his. It vibrated on the same level as his own. Separate yet the same. He slipped his thigh between hers, bringing her softness closer to his hardness. So different from him, but so perfect for him. His wife. His mate. “I thought you’d understand.”

  Caleb propped himself up on his elbow, still keeping her in place with his hand behind her head. Allie’s smile broadened. Her lips parted. She was all seduction and humor. Everything he’d ever wanted, and while he was admiring the opulent display of her curves, she tilted her head back. Offered her throat, her breasts, her body. Her deep blues eyes shimmered with gold lights that beckoned his beast. Her smile reached deep into his body, to the depth of his soul, caught on his lust, and dragged it forward as she took a deep breath and held it, held him until . . .

  She screamed. Loud and long. Screamed as if Vincent had just shown up for a rematch, as if snakes had appeared in her bed, as if everything vile she’d ever dreaded had just landed between them. Son of a bitch. Caleb slapped his hand over her mouth, cutting off the horrendous noise. Above the ridge of his palm, her eyes sparkled with the light of amusement. He cautiously removed his hand.