Make Me Yours (Top Shelf Romance Book 4)

by Devney Perry

  “Shh.” He pulls me tighter against him.

  That’s it. I’ve had enough. I sit up, facing him, and hit his chest. “Get the fuck out!”

  “No.” He keeps his cool and doesn’t flinch from the impact.

  “Yes,” I scream and hit him again. “Go!”

  He stares down at my hand. Tears sting my eyes and I hit him again and again. Every time a little harder until I’m screeching and beating on him like a punching bag. Bruno just sits there, taking all of it without a word.

  My demands for him to leave transform and become more about my life and less about him. My anger manifests and changes direction. I am hitting him, but I’m cursing God for giving me this awful disease.

  “Why me?” I scream and punch him square in the chest with all my might. “I don’t fucking deserve this.”

  “Does anyone?” he asks and places his hands at his side, letting me whale on him.

  I may have been materialistic and a little too concerned with things that no longer matter, but I never expected this to become my life. I excelled in my work. I tried to find ways to heal people, to make the disease go away, but it wasn’t enough.

  “Fuck cancer! Fuck everything!” If I had more energy, I would hit him a few more times, but my arms start to feel like jelly. I erupt in tears, sobbing uncontrollably until I collapse on top of him.

  “Shh,” he whispers and starts to rub my back in a circular motion. “Let it out.”

  “Why?” I cry into his shirt, my ears throbbing from the pitch of my voice. “Why me?”

  “It doesn’t matter. You’re going to fight this and you’re going to beat this, Cal.”

  I want to believe his words. More than anything in the world, I want to believe, but I can’t. I’m not there yet. I can’t see through the darkness and visualize anything other than death before me, waiting for me to come and stalking me until I give in.

  He strokes my hair and rubs my back while I sob into his T-shirt, mumbling something about the darkness. I listen to the steady beat of his heart until my eyes grow so heavy I can’t fight it anymore.

  Warning

  “You must be fucking mental.” Rebecca paces around my living room. I keep waiting for her to start ripping out her hair.

  “I’m not,” I tell her and pick at my chipping nail polish, trying not to watch her because I may burst into laughter.

  “Cal.” She comes to a stop in front of me and taps her foot. “He’s dangerous,” she insists when she crosses her arms.

  I roll my eyes and sigh. “You brought him here. You made him part of this, Bec. Plus, the other night you wanted me to fuck him.”

  She fists her long blond hair and gets a wild look on her face. “I didn’t expect him to be your boyfriend. You can’t possibly like him.”

  My mouth falls open and I gawk at her. “Why?” Rebecca has always been the overly cautious one in our friendship, but she started this shit.

  She throws her arms out and waves them in the air like a raving lunatic. “Um, Bruno ‘The Butcher.’ Ring any bells?”

  “They’re lies, Bec.”

  She starts to pace again, back and forth across the room, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. “No, they aren’t. I know you’re going through some shit right now, but you can’t deny who he is.”

  “You didn’t have a problem leaving me here with him last night,” I shoot back at her with a shitty smile.

  “He made me.”

  “He didn’t make you do anything. You abandoned me and left me alone with him.”

  “Do you think I would ever abandon you?”

  “You did.”

  “Listen.” She sits down next to me and holds my hands. “I only left because he said you needed to be alone and that he would look after you. You know how he is. Everyone is scared of him, Cal, even me. What was I supposed to do? Toss him out?”

  “If he’s so scary, why did you go to him in the first place?”

  “When you didn’t answer the door, I panicked. He’s the first person that popped in my mind who would be willing to break the law.”

  I laugh and stand up, letting her hands fall in her lap. “You talk out of your ass.”

  Her head jerks back with my words. “I do not.”

  “You don’t want me near him because he’s dangerous, yet you bring him to my apartment to save me.”

  “Yes.”

  I place my hands on my hips and glare at her. “You’re the crazy one here, not me.”

  “Just stay away from him.”

  “Sure, Mom.”

  She jumps up and comes toward me. “He’s not a man to fool around with. Bruno isn’t the type to fuck around.”

  My hand flies to my cheek, slapping myself instead of her. “I appreciate your concern, Bec, but you don’t know Bruno.”

  “Neither do you.” She glares. She may be prone to overreact, but rarely does she ever get mad at me.

  “I know enough about him. You didn’t see the way he treated me.”

  “There are a million guys out there who would do the same. I’d do the same. Don’t let him in here again,” she demands and stomps her foot, laying down the law.

  “Okay. I promise,” I tell her, crossing my fingers behind my back because I’d let him in again. He didn’t make me bonkers the way she seems to be at the moment.

  “Good. I’ve heard stories about him that would make you piss yourself.”

  “You know what’s scarier than Bruno?” I ask, wanting to change the subject and get to the real issue at hand.

  “What?”

  “Cancer.”

  When you’re looking down the barrel of a shotgun and know that hope is lost, it’s hard to be scared by the little things. Bruno may not be little, but he is something I can see, touch, and taste. Cancer is biding its time silently, waiting to take me out.

  “I know,” she whispers before she starts to cry. “I can’t lose you. You’re my best friend.”

  See, even Rebecca has me killed off in her head. Being around her doesn’t help in the positivity department, that’s for sure.

  This is why I prefer the company of Bruno to my bestie. She is too emotional. I need something solid—someone tough, without remorse, and not worried about themselves. I am too worried about my life to have to comfort her about my problem.

  “I’m tired, Bec. Can you let me get some rest?” I fake yawn and hope she gets the hint.

  She nods and wraps her arms around me lovingly. “No more ignoring me. Call me later and I’ll come back over.” I nod and rub her back to comfort her, but I don’t mean it.

  She is the last person I needed tonight. I needed Bruno. I wanted him here. Danger doesn’t scare me. My life is already in danger from an enemy within. Bruno is nothing compared to cancer.

  I don’t call him. When she leaves, I climb in the bathtub and tune everything out. I can’t shut out the fear, but I can think without hearing everyone’s voices in my head.

  Bruno is right. I need to get pissed. I don’t back down from a fight. This is like every other thing I’ve had to claw my way to get, but this will be the most important battle of my life.

  This morning I found the appointment card on my counter. I have a meeting with the oncology team at University Hospital to decide the right course of treatment to give me the best chance of long-term survival.

  I stick my toe under the faucet and let the rivulets of water trickle down my foot. I want to live. I want my life. I want everything I had before and more.

  A knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts. Bruno’s voice echoes through the apartment. “Callie!” he yells when his knock turns into rapid pounding. “Callie.”

  Grabbing a towel from the counter, I climb to my feet and wrap it around me. Not bothering to dry off, I head straight for the door before he busts it down. Before I make it within ten feet of the door, the lock starts to click and the door handle turns. His eyes grow wide, probably matching my own, when he walks inside.

  “Did you
just pick my lock?” I ask and adjust my towel, trying to wrap it tighter but giving him a little peep show in the process.

  For the love of God.

  His eyes dip to where my towel has just opened before they return to mine with a twinkle. “I did. I came prepared this time.”

  “Didn’t you break it the other day?”

  “Yeah.” He nods and kicks the door closed. “I had a friend come by and repair it while you slept.”

  I hadn’t heard a thing. I must’ve been out of it more than I thought. Usually, I hear everything, but that night, the world could’ve ended and I would have slept through it.

  “Thanks.” I should’ve had more questions, but it doesn’t matter now. “What are you doing here?”

  He drags his hand through his hair, messing it up, and looks around the room. “I figured we could spend some time together. I needed to check on you.”

  “I’m fine.”

  A small smile creeps across his face as his eyes travel the length of my body. “I can see that.”

  I giggle and wonder how I look through his eyes. My hair is dripping on the floor in a puddle near my feet as I stand here stark naked, wrapped in a towel. “Are you flirting with me?”

  “What if I am?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow and giving me an even bigger smile.

  “I’m okay with it.”

  He steps closer and I hold my breath. “Just okay?”

  He isn’t in his typical all-black wardrobe, and he looks like an entirely different person as a result. He has on black track pants with white stripes running down the sides, paired with a white tank top. His muscles bulge underneath, straining to break free from the material and craving attention.

  He’s a welcome distraction. The more I think about it, when he’s with me, I rarely feel the panic I do when I’m alone. Maybe his calm ways keep me grounded and strong. Either way, I know I like it.

  “I wish you could see yourself right now.”

  I blink a few times, caught off guard, and drag my eyes to his. “I don’t think so.”

  “Your skin is glistening in the light and is the palest shade of pink. You look stunning.”

  I want to protest. I feel like shit, and most likely, I look like it too. But I just say, “Thanks. You look pretty good yourself.”

  He walks toward me, eyes glued to mine, and holds out his arms. I blink a few times and wonder if I’m seeing things. When I realize he’s waiting, I run to him. Tucking myself into his chest, I wrap my arms around him and squeeze him tightly.

  My flesh breaks out in goose bumps as he strokes the back of my neck. “Can I get you anything?” he asks into my hair.

  My arms loosen so I can glance up at him. Bruno just makes everything better. He makes me feel normal even though I know nothing is. “Make me forget for a few hours.”

  The palms of his hands slide to the side of my neck before he cups my face in his hands. The eyes I’d been so scared of before change. They darken. “That I can do, beautiful.”

  Just like the times before, he picks me up in his arms and carries me toward the bedroom, peppering my face with kisses as he walks. I don’t have any fears, no worries that I am about to sleep with a man everyone fears.

  When he places me on the bed and straddles me, I feel nothing but peacefulness. Everything fades away except for his weight on my body and the feel of his lips on mine. His mouth touches me with tenderness, almost as if I’m breakable.

  But I don’t want tenderness. I don’t want to remember how fragile I really am. I want him just as I imagine he is—rough.

  “Bruno,” I moan between kisses. “I don’t want you to be gentle.”

  “I know what you need.” He places his mouth over mine, stopping me from talking anymore. I don’t want to talk. I want to feel.

  Anything.

  Something.

  Everything.

  He sits up to remove his shirt and I gawk and miss his warmth. Like a teenager, I feast on his physique and watch every muscle move as his body contorts and he pulls the shirt over his head. Holy fuckness. The man looked big before, but in this position, he looks massive. His broad shoulders seem like they go from edge to edge of my queen-size bed. I feel tiny in his shadow cascading over the bed as he blocks out the overhead light.

  As I stare at his chest, completely in awe of his size and hardness, he knocks away the edges of my towel and I gasp. The cool air hits my breasts and my nipples instantly harden. I don’t move to cover myself, but I keep my eyes pinned to his pecs and my hands resting on his legs.

  I always pictured him with tattoos underneath his clothes, but his skin’s flawless and untouched. Possibly, he has one on his back that I can’t see in this position, but it’s just another way he’s surprised me.

  He lies down on me, his naked chest to mine, and kisses me deeper than he had before. I want him to remove his pants. I want to see what is underneath. Being with a man for the first time is like unwrapping a Christmas present. I want to know what my gift is, and I hope it isn’t like opening a box of socks. I can’t imagine he’s anything but perfection.

  My hands find their way to his back, and I gently run my fingers up and down his spine, feeling his skin pebble underneath. He grunts in approval, which makes me kiss him harder and dig my nails in a bit deeper.

  Just when I am about to whine about him being too gentle, he slides off to my side and his fingers begin tracing circles down my stomach. I close my eyes and let the sensation fill my every thought as they find their way to my smooth mound. He looks at me, and through my half-closed eyes, I can see his smile.

  “What?” I ask and try not to squirm under his touch.

  His eyes follow the same path his hands just did and stop on my bareness. “Nothing.”

  “Uh-huh,” I mumble and feel my cheeks flush.

  I try to move my hands to cover myself. “Don’t,” he demands and pushes my hands away.

  I see the fire in his eyes and know exactly what he wants. Me. I no longer feel the need to hide my body, and I place my hands on the bed next to me, giving him a full view of my body. I watch his face, particularly his lips, while he scans my body. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip as he does. I want to snatch it between my teeth and taste him again.

  Before I can do just that, he leans forward and closes his mouth over my nipple. My back arches, relishing the heat only his mouth can give and wanting more.

  It doesn’t take much. With a man like Bruno and the way he makes me feel, I don’t need a lot of foreplay. His hand slides between my legs and finds my wetness. Another time and place and I may have been embarrassed, but right now, I could not care less. Just being near him is enough to turn me on. It doesn’t help that it has been a long time since I’ve been with someone sexually.

  My fingers dig into his hair before he pushes his finger inside me. “Jesus,” he murmurs with my nipple between his teeth. “Why didn’t you tell me you wanted me too, Cal?”

  It’s kind of funny and a little embarrassing, but my body doesn’t lie. I would laugh except his finger is doing wicked shit to me.

  I clear my mind and focus on his mouth and fingers as they touch my body, bringing me more pleasure than I ever imagined. My toes curl with each thrust of his fingers, and my body follows his when he pulls them out. I chase the orgasm I want so badly, but I can’t get there. My thighs burn and my calves begin to seize, but still nothing, no matter how hard I try. Every time I get close enough I can almost taste it, he changes pace and throws me off.

  “Fuck,” I hiss and collapse.

  He raises his head and curls his fingers inside me. “Stop thinking so much and I’ll let you come.”

  It takes everything I have not to smack him. The entire time I’ve been chasing it, he’s been denying me. I sigh before clenching my jaw and trying to loosen my body, giving him control.

  His fingers start to move again, and I close my eyes and feel every spot he strokes. Slowly pulling out before quickly pushing back inside me. His th
umb flicks my clit every time, sending tiny shockwaves through my system and bringing me back to the edge quickly.

  The orgasm builds—my toes curl and my muscles seize. My breathing becomes labored, my skin glows with a sheen of sweat, and my entire being begins to shake. I’m almost there—my eyes begin to roll back on their own and then he stops. Just fucking stops.

  My eyes fly open and I’m about to scream when the bed dips and he’s on his feet in one movement, disposing of his pants. Every word sitting on my tongue vanishes. Holy mother of all that is sacred. Bruno’s hung like a goddamn horse. Wait, no, like a stallion.

  “When you come,” he tells me, kicking his pants behind him before climbing on the bed, “it’ll be on my cock.”

  Well, okay. Who am I to argue with that statement? “I don’t think—” I gesture and point at his well-proportioned and nicely decorated dick “—that will fit.”

  “You just have to relax, beautiful.” He settles between my legs, stroking his cock roughly. “I’m going to make you feel shit you never thought possible.”

  I believe him too. I’ve never met a penis I didn’t like. I’m one of the lucky girls. You know, the one every girl who can’t come from sex alone hates. Yep, that’s me. I’ve never had a problem coming. Bruno has enough girth and the perfect length to hit every spot inside of me.

  “Do you know how to use it, though?” I ask, wanting to tease him about his unusually sized cock.

  “You tell me.” He rubs the tip against my opening.

  “Condom,” I choke out, the sensation overwhelming. I’m scared he’s going rip me in two more than any fear of a disease. He can’t give me anything worse than I already have, but I know he’s probably banged half the city’s female population. “Do you want to be a daddy?”

  “No, but I can’t believe you’d think I’d fuck you without one.” He shakes his head and frowns.

  “Where is it?” I look around but don’t see one, and I sure as hell didn’t see him slide it over his monster.