by Donna Grant
She guessed they were finished talking about Orrin. “Do you want to call him back?”
“Not now.”
It was hard to keep up with Wyatt’s moods and thinking sometimes. They could flip as fast as lightning. Callie decided not to remind him that she had gotten the better of him at the ranch so that he landed flat on his back. She’d just show him again.
“Afraid?” he asked when she remained seated.
“Puh-leeze. I was thinking of moving the table out of the way.”
“Then let’s move it.”
She didn’t know why, but she was suddenly wary of Wyatt. He wasn’t acting as standoffish as normal. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he was beginning to open up to her as he had when they were younger.
Ha! Like that would happen again.
She got to her feet and moved the seat she’d been sitting on while Wyatt grabbed the back of a chair in each hand, setting them out of the way. Callie then took the last one and her laptop to safety. When she turned around, Wyatt had taken care of the table.
He stood on the oval, braided rug and stared at her as if silently daring her. When it came to him, she was always ready and willing to accept his challenges.
Before she’d barely taken a step onto the rug, he rushed her, grabbing her about her middle. Callie twisted, but she couldn’t break his hold or get into position to hurt him. Then he threw her over his shoulder.
Her humiliation was complete.
“I expected better,” he said and set her down.
Yeah, well, so did she. She wasn’t going to give him some lame excuse about not being ready, because there weren’t do-overs in battle.
“What are you waiting for?” she asked when he merely stood there.
There was a ghost of a smile before he took a step toward her. She was ready for him this time. With a sweep of her leg, she had him shifting his weight. Then she sent a punch into his gut while pushing against his chest with her other hand.
Callie smiled down at him from his position on the floor looking up at her. “I expected better,” she tossed his words back at him.
For the next hour, they traded turns bringing the other to the ground. She hated to admit that Wyatt more than tested her skills. He showed her moves she’d never seen before, causing her to reevaluate some of her strategies. Even with the bruises she knew she’d have the next day, she was glad Wyatt had made her do this.
She laughed when she realized the current hold she had on him wouldn’t give her the advantage—but then neither could his. His answering grin made her stomach flutter.
God, he was stunning when he smiled. She found herself lost in an ocean of gold as she stared at him. It was then she grasped that their bodies were pressed together. One of his arms was locked around her, the other holding one of her wrists.
His smile melted away slowly. Their ragged breaths filled the silence of the room. The hold couldn’t be more intimate. She was all too aware of her breasts crushed against his chest. Her nipples hardened, and an ache began low in her belly.
One of them would have to be the first to relent, to let go and step away. To admit defeat.
She couldn’t seem to make herself release him. He overwhelmed her. His scent, his power, his spectacular body.
She’d seen him naked just yesterday. He’d always been gorgeous, but the years had refined his muscular body until he was a work of art.
Her mouth watered just thinking of running her hands over his flesh, of taking his arousal and stroking the hardness. Then feeling it slide inside her. She bit back the gasp that image induced.
He could never know that he still had power over her. If he did, he’d control her with just a look. That same desire-filled look that used to bring her to her knees.
That’s when he was just becoming a man. He’d had years to practice and hone his skills. Her legs went weak just thinking of what he might do to her now.
Despite her best intentions, she must have let something show in her eyes, because his darkened. And God help her, but she knew that look. She felt his cock hardening between them, causing her blood to heat even more.
She wanted him, hungered for him.
But to go down that road again would be folly. Why then wasn’t she stepping away?
And why wasn’t he?
That thought made her heart skip a beat. Her lids closed as his head lowered. Just as his lips were about to touch hers, the laptop beeped, signaling that one of the traps had been tripped.
Without a word, they stepped apart in unison. Callie grabbed her laptop and sat on the sofa to pull up the layout of the house as Wyatt came to stand beside her. The alarm set up on the perimeter was one she’d brought with her from the ranch.
“I’ll be back,” Wyatt said as he strode from the house.
She let loose a sigh once he’d gone. Though she’d wanted his kiss, she was glad they’d been interrupted. Wasn’t she?
Callie pressed her hands against her swollen breasts. Her body thrummed with need. But she could be strong. She could withstand Wyatt’s allure.
She closed her eyes, hating that she wasn’t as confident of that statement as she had been even thirty minutes earlier. Now that she’d had his arms around her again, that she’d felt his arousal, her willpower was weakening.
In an effort to tamp down the rising tide of desire, Callie remained on the couch. She thought of kittens and puppies, of cleaning her guns, of scrubbing toilets—but nothing could dislodge Wyatt from her mind.
Her eyes snapped open when he called her name. She sat up and found him walking inside with an armload of wood. The nights were getting rather chilly, but she couldn’t tell at the moment with her body heated to such a degree.
Wyatt knelt near the hearth and stacked the wood inside. “It was just a deer.”
“It’s too bad I didn’t have any video cameras left for us to bring.”
He gave a shake of his head. “Owen and Natalie need them more on the ranch. It’s a much larger area to fortify than ours.”
Ours.
That one word had the power to give a pretense to things. She and Wyatt were working together, but that’s where it ended. Whatever fantasy she’d allowed herself to believe a short time ago was gone.
The reality, the truth was that Wyatt was a loner. He didn’t need or want anyone or anything. He counted only on himself for everything he needed. There would never be an our with him.
No matter how much she’d once longed for it, no matter how much she had cried for it, there was no changing him.
Natalie might have gotten her happy ending with Owen. Mia might have even found love with Cullen. But there would be no such outcome for her.
Callie couldn’t even feel sadness for that fact anymore. At one time, it had caused her to cry herself to sleep. But acceptance had changed her. She might not like the way Wyatt was, but there was nothing she could do.
There was no mention of their near kiss as he walked out of the cabin and didn’t return for four hours. There were no words spoken when they ate dinner. Not even when he started the fire and she made coffee.
What was there to say, really? It wasn’t as if she would bring up their near kiss. She wanted to forget it as she attempted to put up a wall again—a wall that Wyatt had somehow torn down without her even knowing.
Too bad she couldn’t do the same to his. How she’d love to smash all of them. To make him empty his soul of all the anger, hate, hopes, and dreams that he’d tucked away there. If only she had that kind of power.
She stared into the flames and admonished herself for her thoughts. What did it matter how she felt about Wyatt or how he felt about her? An attack from her family as well Ahmadi—and possibly the Saints—would come at them any day.
The odds of either of them coming out of it alive were slim. To the Saints, Wyatt was better off dead. At one time, her family would’ve done anything to bring her back into the fold, but now, she wasn’t so sure. They could be coming to kill her for all she knew.
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br /> This could be her last night on Earth. And what was she doing? Silently griping about what she couldn’t change. Why? When she should be grasping at what little enjoyment or happiness she might be able to find.
She glanced at Wyatt, who stood in the kitchen. What would it matter if she gave in to her heart’s desire? There would be no promises, no declarations. Only sated need.
When she looked at him again, he was staring at her with desire burning in his eyes.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
He wanted her.
He craved her.
No longer could Wyatt pretend otherwise. The truth had become painfully evident when they had been locked together, their bodies rubbing against each other just hours earlier.
Had the perimeter alarm not gone off, he would’ve kissed her. It was the thought of tasting Callie’s lips again that caused him to look at her now.
She was staring into the fire. As he gazed at her profile, he wondered what she was thinking. Did she long for his touch once more? Did she remember the pleasure they had found in each other’s arms?
Or had he burned that bridge once and for all?
He held out hope. It was slim, but her reaction to him couldn’t be denied. Not the way her breathing had changed or how her lips had parted. Most definitely not the way her blue eyes had filled with need.
His balls tightened thinking about it. And when her lids had slid closed, his only thought had been to claim her lips, to let her know how he’d hungered for her kiss all the years they’d been apart.
But the damn alarm had interrupted everything.
Now, he might never get that chance again. Callie was a master at remaining just out of his reach. Perhaps if he were more of a charmer, like Cullen, or even as open as Owen, there might be a chance for him.
But he was neither of those things. He was hard, cold, and closed off to the world.
Callie had been the only one to get close to him, the only one to ever touch his heart and make him long for a life that could never be his.
This was where Owen would urge him to let Callie know that secret, but Wyatt didn’t dare. It would leave him too exposed. Admitting it to himself was one thing, but no one—absolutely no one—could ever know.
His thoughts came to a screeching halt when Callie’s head turned, and their eyes clashed. The palpable desire he saw made his body pulse with a yearning he hadn’t dared to give in to. But there was no turning away from it now.
From the very beginning, Callie had a hold over him. She swayed him with a smile or a look. He didn’t know if she grasped the power she had back then—the power she still had.
Because if she did, with just a few words, she could make him invincible—or break him.
She rose from the couch and stood to face him. There was no other choice for him but to go to her, to go to the only woman he’d ever wanted.
When he reached her, she turned him, shoving him back onto the sofa. He looked up at her and was consumed with lust. Callie stood between his legs not as the young girl he remembered, but as a woman who knew what she wanted—and got it.
Her head tilted to the side, blue eyes shamelessly looking over him. He swallowed a groan and grabbed her wrists. A seductive, teasing smile pulled at the corners of her lips before she placed one knee on the outside of his hip.
His mouth went dry as she straddled him, her breasts even with his face. Before him was a temptress, who would accept nothing less than all of him.
She glided her hands up his arms and over his shoulders before sinking into his hair. Then she arched her back and rolled her head to the side before letting it fall backward.
The moan he’d been holding back rushed past his lips. He gripped her on either side of her ribcage and leaned forward. His lips touched the space just below her neck in the middle of her chest.
“Wyatt.”
His name whispered in that husky voice of hers stirred something deep and primal within him. He wrapped an arm around her while he yanked at the collar of her sweatshirt to expose a slim shoulder.
He nipped and kissed the skin there before moving across to her collarbone. All the while, the long, silky strands of her hair teased his arms and hands with whispered touches.
Her head shifted to the side to give him better access to her neck. Slowly, he worked his way up the column of her throat to her ear and licked the spot that always drove her wild.
Just as he’d expected, her response was immediate. Her nails sank into his scalp, and her hips rocked against his cock. He gently sucked on the delicate skin until her breathing was as erratic as his heart.
Only then did he return his lips to her throat and kiss his way up to her chin. But he didn’t take her lips. Her head lifted, and their eyes clashed.
For long seconds, they stared at each other, the longing, the hunger growing with each breath. The only sound was the popping of the fire. Without realizing it, they moved toward each other.
Her hands came around to caress his jaw as her gaze lowered to his mouth. Her thumb swept across his lower lip. He hesitated in kissing her because once he did, there would be no turning back. He only had so much self-control, and she was quickly sapping him of what was left.
She lifted her eyes to him. Then she leaned forward and placed her mouth over his.
For a heartbeat, Wyatt didn’t move. He was afraid that it would shatter the moment. But when her tongue skimmed along the seam of his lips, he couldn’t hold back.
Gripped with desire so overwhelming, so consuming he had no choice but to succumb, he held the back of her head, his fingers tangled in her chestnut locks, and he kissed her—letting her feel and taste the years of longing, of his aching to have her again.
He had to know the texture of her skin, her warmth. Her softness. No longer could he wait. He took her arms and moved them above her head. Then his hands slipped beneath the hem of her sweatshirt and impatiently pushed the cloth upward.
As soon as the shirt was gone, they were kissing hungrily again. With just a twist of his fingers, he unhooked her bra. The garment was tossed aside. He wrapped an arm around her before shifting them so that he lay atop her.
Her warm flesh against his palm as he caressed upward from her waist was exactly what he’d longed for. But that wasn’t all. Not by a long shot.
He broke the kiss and rose up enough to look down at her. The sight of her hair spread around her with her lips swollen from his kisses caused his cock to jump. His gaze moved lower to her breasts.
His mouth went dry when he saw her dusky nipples already hard. Callie always had the most amazing breasts. There was a rough intake of breath from her when he cupped one perfect globe and massaged it.
Her eyes rolled back in her head, her lips parted on a silent moan. He rolled one tip between his fingers while leaning down to tease the other with his tongue. Her answering cry was just what he wanted to hear.
Just as he was about to get settled to feast on her breasts, Callie surprised him again by once more taking control and pushing against his shoulder to roll him. He tumbled off the sofa onto the floor with her still in his arms.
She leaned over him, her hair falling in a curtain around him. He was so turned on by her aggression that he was more than willing to see what she would do.
Her lips brushed against his, but when he tried to kiss her, she pulled away. Then she sat up, giving him a view of her bare chest in the light of the fire.
“Take off your shirt,” she commanded.
He eagerly complied. This new side of her was something he could definitely get used to. Callie had always known what she wanted and had never been afraid to ask for it. But this was a whole new level.
With her hands spread wide, she leisurely caressed his chest, gliding over his muscles and lingering at his wounds. His gaze never left her face as her eyes followed her hands. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, and he hated that.
Suddenly, she rolled back onto her feet and stood. Wyatt rose up on his forearms,
afraid that she’d changed her mind. He should’ve known better.
Callie removed her shoes, then shimmied out of her jeans before slipping her underwear off. His gaze swept her naked form from her breasts to the indent of her waist to her flared hips then lower to her muscular legs.
He held out a hand. As soon as she placed hers in his, he pulled her down beside him. Then he rolled to his side and let his hand move over her body.
“Have I changed much?” she asked.
He touched the swell of her hip. “You’ve filled out more in all the best places. Have I?”
“I don’t know,” she replied saucily. “You still have your clothes on.”
The smile formed before he realized it. Not one to disappoint, he stood and removed the rest of his clothes. When he finished, he let her look her fill.
“Well?” he prompted after several quiet minutes.
She got to her knees and began to touch the scars on his legs before moving to the ones she’d already investigated on his upper body and arms. Then she climbed to her feet and walked around to his back.
His wounds were proof that he had survived. He barely noticed them anymore, but he began to wonder if she found them offensive. Did she think them unsightly?
When they were younger, she had often commented on the beauty of his body. He’d laughed about it then, but that memory returned, putting doubts in his head now.
Her hand trailed behind her over his butt as she walked to stand before him. “Yes, you’ve changed. You’re stronger than before, more filled out.” She reached up and ran her middle finger along the outside of his eye. “You have lines from squinting in the sun.”
“Is that all?” He didn’t know why he asked. He should’ve just left well enough alone.
A slim brow lifted. “You’re a warrior, Wyatt. Your body proudly carries the marks of battle—and victory.”
With one hand, he yanked her against him and claimed her mouth in a savage, fiery kiss. She had always brought out the best in him. With her, he could be the kind of man she looked at with pride and delight.
She ended the kiss and sat on the floor before leaning back, propped up on her arms.