by Cassie Cross
“I’ve been wanting you all night,” he says. His voice is low, rumbly, and full of desire. It makes all the hairs on my body stand on end. “I’ve been waiting to have you all to myself again.”
“You have me,” I tell him, my voice a breathy whisper.
“Mmmm, I do. Now what am I going to do with you?” His breath is warm against my ear, making me shiver. “I love this dress so much. I could see your nipples through it all night. I’ve been wanting to do this,” he says, giving my nipple a little pinch. I arch my back, wanting to feel more of his hand on my breast, and my ass pushes back against his erection, making him groan.
“Caleb?” I ask.
He’s skimming his chin along the crook of my neck, teasing, scratching me with his stubble. “Yeah?”
“What else have you been wanting to do?”
“This,” he says, sliding his deft hands down my sides, until they reach the hem of my dress. He pulls it up, until the fabric is bunched around my waist, then reaches for my underwear. “Fuck, Mia. You’re not wearing any-”
“Surprise,” I reply, feeling smug.
He cups my cheek, turning my head so he can reach my mouth and cover it with hot, lingering kisses. “I can’t believe you went out like this.”
“Why, are you jealous?” I’m really turned on, but I also wouldn’t mind having a little argument right now. I think that could only stoke the fire building inside of me.
“I’m just glad I’m the lucky bastard you came home with.”
Oh, an argument would be such a waste. These, these are the words I want to hear. “So lucky,” I tell him.
He slips one arm around my waist, bringing my ass in contact with his erection again as his other hand finds its way between my legs. I let out a soft moan as Caleb’s fingers work their magic on me.
“Fuck, you’re wet already.”
“I have been for a while,” I say, reaching back and stroking his cock through his pants. I only manage three passes before he pulls away, and I hear the frantic unbuckling of his belt and unzipping of his zipper behind me.
Caleb growls, nipping my earlobe. “I want you. Now.”
“Then have me,” I tell him, hoping the low, raspy tone in my voice will spur him on. I turn my head and glance over my shoulder. My breath catches as I get a good look at Caleb, all hard and impatient as he rips open a condom and rolls it on.
“Face the wall,” he says gruffly. “Brace yourself against it.”
I’m already so turned on, but Caleb telling me what to do, well…that dials everything up about 10 more notches. I do what he says, letting my fingers spread out for leverage as I place my hands against the wall.
“Good.” He slides his hand down my back, making my ass arch out toward him. He reaches down and runs his hands up the insides of my thighs. “Spread your legs.”
Slowly, Caleb’s arm finds its way across my middle, pulling me back, close to his body. He’s so warm, and I just want his skin against mine, but it seems like he has other plans for now. I spread my legs for him, and the second I do, I’m rewarded with his lips pressing kisses along the crook of my neck.
“How do you want me to fuck you?” he asks.
My eyes flutter shut. I fight the urge to tell him to take me any way he wants, because I feel like I’ll only drag this out if I’m anything less than incredibly specific. “Fast,” I tell him. This isn’t going to be about tender touches and teasing. This is about hot, insatiable need. “Hard.”
Caleb slides the head of his cock along my slit, pressing it against my clit to the point where I’m pushing back into him, desperate for more.
“Please,” I beg.
Just that one little word sets Caleb off, and he pushes into me, making us both groan.
“More,” I gasp. “Harder.”
That’s all the encouragement he needs. He’s holding onto me tightly, pounding his hips against me.
“You feel so good, Mia.” He’s practically breathless.
He feels amazing to me, stretching me, hitting me so deep in just the right spot.
“Make me feel better,” I breathe.
Even in his frantic hurry to fuck me, he manages to exhale a little laugh, but he does exactly what I ask him to. He starts stroking my clit, his other hand gripping my breast. The fabric of my dress rubs against my nipples, making them harder. He keeps working my clit as he pounds into me, and it’s all too much. I let my head fall back to rest against Caleb’s shoulder, leaving my neck open for the taking, because it seems to be his favorite spot.
“I’m…I…”
“You gonna come?” he asks. His voice is thready and tight, like he’s holding on by a string, staving off his orgasm until I have mine.
“Yeah. Yes, just…”
Like he knows what I’m going to ask him for, he rubs my clit a little harder, a little faster, and before I know it I’m falling apart in his arms. He lets me ride it out, and then I feel him stiffen behind me, his hips stuttering in an unfocused rhythm as he comes.
After, I’m leaning against the wall with my head pressed against it, my body too weak to hold itself up without assistance. Caleb turns me in his arms, and gives me a soft, breathless kiss.
“I was bored the day we met,” he says, looking down at me with heavy-lidded eyes. “I walked into that bar on a whim.”
I want to tell him that I’m glad he did, but I keep my mouth shut until he says what it is he wants to say.
“I don’t have a history of making good decisions in bars,” he admits, his nose brushing against mine before he leans in for another kiss. “But now I do.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“I wish you would let me come and pick you up,” Caleb says. “I’m leaving the office now, I can come and get you on my way home.”
“No, it’s okay,” I tell him. “It’s out of the way, and will take longer. Besides, I’m already on my way to you.” I’ve been staying in this shitty hotel for almost three weeks now, and all of my tracking programs are showing the same thing that they have since I left Chicago: absolutely nothing. Every day I feel braver, am a little less paranoid when I step out into public. I’m willing to leave some of my clothes in the hotel at this point, but never my computer. I still carry it everywhere with me, but every day I think that maybe, maybe someday soon I’ll feel comfortable walking around without it. Every day I think maybe this will all turn out okay.
I blatantly ignore the fact that at some point I’m going to have to deal with the friends I left back home, who are going to wonder what happened to me, and why I haven’t come back. I wonder if I could gradually phase them out, and just lose touch with them. The thought of not going back home again gives me this pang of sadness in my belly, but it’s better than the alternative. If not being able to go back to Chicago is the only price I wind up paying for what I did, then I’m going to consider myself truly lucky.
“Mia,” Caleb says, sounding exasperated. He doesn’t like me walking alone when he can send the car for me, I know this.
“You can keep me company while I walk.” I’m hoping that agreeing to stay on the phone while I walk will placate him.
“Okay,” he says warily. “Tell me about your day.”
“I did some coding, ventured out into the sunlight to get a salad at the deli on the corner. I talked to a friend for a little while. That’s pretty much it.”
“Sounds exciting,” he says dryly.
“The most exciting part of my day usually comes at night.” I’m grinning, because the thought of going to see him makes me feel like wild butterflies have taken up residence in my stomach. It’s like I don’t have a care in the world.
“Literally,” he replies.
“Literally,” I repeat, laughing. “How was your day?”
“Too long. I sat through never-ending conference calls, and all I could think about was you.”
“I’ll be there soon enough,” I tell him. “I just wanted to get some fresh air, and I’ll be there in no time. Wha
t was your conference call about?”
“I don’t want you to fall asleep while you’re walking.”
I laugh. “Please, tell me.”
As he recounts the business of his day, I hustle, trying to make it a few more blocks, so my cab fare the rest of the way is cheaper. I like listening to the steady sound of Caleb’s voice; I get lost in it, even, to the point where I’m just going through the motions of walking, not really paying much attention to what I’m doing. Vaguely, I hear the thrum of running footsteps, but I don’t pay them any mind.
All of a sudden, there’s a hard tug on my arm, and I feel the straps of my bag slide down. I manage to catch it with my hand, and tug. I know this is a stupid thing to do, and I know it goes against every single piece of advice about being robbed that I’ve ever heard, that no material thing is worth my life.
“No,” I yell. “No!”
In the background, through the speaker of my phone, Caleb is frantically calling my name.
I can’t see the face of the man who is robbing me; I only get a glimpse of his jaw as his fist connects with my face. I fall to the ground, my head hitting something hard, and then everything goes black.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
My head feels stuffy and full, like every available bit of space inside of it is packed with cotton. The right side of my face is throbbing, and I know it’s swollen, because the skin feels stretched to its limit. I think the entire right side of my face might explode at any moment. I manage to open my eyes just a sliver, hoping that I’ll be able to figure out exactly where I am. Even the little bit of light that finds its way in is so bright that it actually hurts. There’s a dull throb at the base of my neck, and everything combined has completely sapped whatever strength I had in me. I know that if I try to push myself any further right now that I’ll wind up being in more pain than I already am.
Instead of focusing on everything that’s wrong right now, I focus on the warm, steady weight on my right hand. All of my energy goes toward that warmth, and moving my fingers to hold onto it tightly. There are calluses beneath my fingertips, and I know without a doubt that I’m holding Caleb’s hand. Or, he’s holding mine. I suppose it doesn’t matter. The thought of him sitting here with me—wherever it is that I am—brings me such comfort that all my panic completely subsides. He’s here, and I’m safe. I know this. I’d like to smile at him, but I can’t get the right muscles to move.
Instead, I close my eyes, sink back into the softness of the pillows behind my head, and I let myself drift.
.
.
.
.
.
I pass in and out of consciousness for a while, vaguely aware of what’s going on around me. Sometimes I’m dragged out of sleep because I hear a strange voice, or loud beeping, or because soft hands are gently prodding at my wrist. Most of it’s just background noise. Eventually, the room seems a bit dimmer than it was earlier, and I’m able to open my eyes without the blinding pain that accompanied the action earlier. I turn my head—or try to, at least—and let out a soft moan, because…ouch.
“Mia?”
The voice belongs to Caleb, and he’s still clasping my hand. I feel his touch on my face, cupping my cheek as the pad of his thumb slides across my cheekbone. My eyelids flutter open, and yeah. That hurts. Too much light, just…too much everything.
I manage to make a sound that comes out kind of like, “Mrphf.”
When my vision clears, all I can see is Caleb’s face, full of worry. “Shh,” he says gently. “Don’t try to talk. You’re safe. You’re going to be okay.”
Going to be okay? My eyes widen, and he must read the surprise on my face, because…how did I get here in the first place?
“You hit your head, Mia,” he says, sounding about as scared as I feel. “Someone pushed you, and you cracked your head against the cement. There isn’t anything abnormal on any of your scans, but the doctor wants to keep you overnight. Do you remember what happened?”
I have to push through the drug-induced cobwebs that are clouding my mind, and think incredibly hard. It’s like the memories are there, just out of reach. I can almost grab onto them, clasp them between my fingers as they threaten to float away. It takes everything I’ve got in me to focus on remembering whatever it was that landed me in here.
I remember walking, and talking to Caleb on the phone. I was going to his place, I think, or…meeting him for dinner. I feel like we might’ve argued about something…a car. I remember, he wanted to send a car to pick me up, but I wanted to walk…
Oh god.
Oh my god.
My bag. Someone ripped my bag off of my shoulder and ran off with it, after punching me in the face and apparently leaving me unconscious on the sidewalk. My head is throbbing, seemingly in time with my racing heart, and when I sit up I think my brain might burst right out of my skull.
“My bag,” I say, trying to swing my legs over the side of the bed, because that seems like something that might quell the nausea. All it manages to do is make me feel like I’m going to pass out.
“Mia,” Caleb says soothingly, standing up so he can rub my back. That makes me feel marginally better, but not much. “Don’t get worked up. We can replace your things.”
I shake my head weakly, as much as the unrelenting throbbing will allow. “You don’t understand,” I tell him, unable to stop the tears that are streaming down my face.
Caleb looks confused, and desperate to help me. Desperate to make it better. “Whatever was in there, I can replace, Mia. I’ll help you, please don’t be upset. You’re…you’re going to make things worse.”
I’m safe, I’m cared for, and apparently I’m going to get out of this with nothing more than a swollen face and a headache. I know things could be worse. I know they could, but desperation is closing in, making my chest tight, tugging at whatever rational thought is left inside of me.
“It was everything I had,” I say quietly, telling Caleb more than I know I should. I think the painkillers combined with the head trauma are making it difficult for me to keep my damn mouth shut. “You don’t understand.”
Caleb opens his mouth to reply, but a nurse walks in, effectively cutting him off. She’s a friendly, older woman with short white hair. “What’s the matter?” she asks. The kindness on her face and in her voice immediately puts me at ease. “You’ve gotten yourself all worked up, and that’s not good. Take deep breaths,” she says as she inhales, and motions to her chest, indicating that I should follow her lead.
I do exactly as she does. Deep inhale, deep exhale. Over and over again.
“Let’s see if we can get something to calm you down, okay?”
I nod. Being calm sounds really good right now, and I definitely need pharmaceutical help to get me there. “Okay.”
When the nurse leaves the room, Caleb helps me lie back on the bed, and smooths my hair off of my face.
I lean into his touch. “What’s wrong with me?”
“They want to make sure your head is okay,” he says quietly. He’s very patient, despite the fact that I get the feeling I’ve asked him that before, and he had already given me an answer. “You also have some swelling around your cheekbone and your eye.”
“I can tell,” I say as I reach up to feel for the damage, but Caleb catches my hand and folds his fingers through mine. “How did you find me?”
“I was on the phone with you, when…” he trails off. I realize for the first time since I woke up that he must’ve heard everything that happened to me while he was on the phone. “A nice woman stayed on the phone with me to let me know what was happening after she called nine-one-one. I arrived at the hospital right as they were bringing you in.”
“Oh,” I reply, feeling like I’m on the verge of tears. My emotions are all over the place, and they feel absolutely unstoppable.
“It’s going to be okay.”
Caleb is really good at this whole soothing me in crisis thing. I decide that he’s the person
that I want to have around for any other kind of emergency I might have in my life. Emergency. Shit - I just remembered that my insurance card was in my bag, along with my ID.
“My wallet’s gone, too. I don’t know my insurance information,” I say, hysteria creeping back into my voice.
“I took care of everything, you don’t have to worry about it.”
I’m going to have to figure out how much all of this is costing and pay him back. I’m determined to do that once I get my life in order, no matter how long it takes.
“Is there anyone you want me to call?” he asks. “Your parents? A friend?”
The soft, gentle way he’s talking to me makes me want to drift off to sleep again. It’s so relaxing that I think I might not even need whatever medication the nurse has gone to get for me.
“My parents are dead,” I tell him, unable to stop myself. I definitely don’t want him calling Marcus. “So there’s no one.” It hurts to realize exactly how true that is. “Will you stay with me?”
He grips my hand tightly, and says, “Of course I will.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I’m sitting on the edge of my bed, fully dressed in the clothes I had been wearing the night I was robbed. Caleb had been kind enough to have them cleaned, but wearing them still feels wrong. I’m being discharged today, after two days of observation. My brain activity is fine, and the swelling on my face is going down. I’m getting better, despite the fact that the bruises on my cheek and eye are blooming an angry, deep purple.
I feel oddly detached from everything at the moment. Caleb is standing across from me, listening intently to the nurse as she describes my care instructions to him. It’s funny that I’ve spent the past month or so on the run from an actual hitman, but a common street criminal was able to bring me down first. Luckily I had a stash of cash and a credit card in my pocket, and I still have my burner phone that I can contact Marcus on, but my computer…god, my computer is gone.