“Okay,” he says and shifts closer. I don’t flinch, but I do suck in a fast breath.
“I’d never do anything to hurt you, Gemma, physically or emotionally.”
“I know,” I say my voice coming out a little squeaky. “I trust you, Callan. You’re one of the good guys.”
“I’m glad you trust me,” he says, his voice an octave lower. “And just so you know, if I was ever going to touch you, I’d be gentle. But I’d never touch you if you didn’t want me to,” he says and as I take in the heat in his eyes, I understand he’s asking me a question.
Oh. My. God. Callan is asking if I want him to touch me.
I turn on my side, and he removes his hand from my arm. “If I was ever to touch you, I’d want you to want it, too,” I say. “I’d want you to like it.”
He nods, and takes a deep breath. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been touched, Gemma. Since Zoe. I’ve not…I haven’t been able…I’m not sure I…”
He doesn’t finish, so I try to fill in the blanks. “I know, me neither,” I say, and my heart beats faster, my brain hardly able to believe what I’m about to suggest. “Maybe we should just try and see.”
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“I can touch you, and you can let me know if you want it. Let’s just be open and honest with each other.”
“I like that idea,” he says and as he gazes at me, I get that he likes me, too. Good, because I like him, the warmth between my legs is a damn good indication of that.
“If I touched you here, would you want it, or like it?” I reach out and put my hand on his hot chest, and he sucks in a fast breath as his heart thunders beneath my palm.
“Yeah, I like that,” he says, sounding as breathless as I do. My blankets shift a little, exposing the lace on my bra. “My turn,” he says, and his throat makes a sound when he swallows. He looks into my eyes and that’s when I get that he’s waiting for a response, asking permission, and my heart wobbles a little. My God, he is such a sweet guy.
“Okay,” I say.
He reaches out, and puts his finger on the curve of my jaw. His eyes meet mine and I answer the question lingering there.
“I like it,” I say.
“How about this,” he slides his finger down my throat, in a slow, tender way that teases all my erogenous zones. “So far so good?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say, my voice nothing more than a needy whisper.
He continues downward, my skin on fire everywhere he touches, burning in a way it has never burned before, and I like it. I like it a lot. His hand comes to rest at the top of my bra, and he toys with it, lightly running the fabric between his big fingers.
I wet my mouth, my throat so dry you’d think I was lost in the Sahara, but no, right now, I’m just a little lost in Callan.
I widen my fingers, and move them over his flesh, going lower to examine the hard muscles of his abdomen. “Hmm, nice,” I say and an adorable smile that turns me a little inside out pulls up the corners of his kissable mouth.
“I think I’m the one who’s supposed to be saying it’s nice. But I like that you’re enjoying touching me, too.”
I grin. “So you’re saying you like this, then?” I ask, as I take pleasure in all his hills and valleys.
“Oh yeah.”
“Good.”
My hand stills, indicating it’s his turn and he chuckles lightly. He trails his finger lower, dragging it between my breasts and before I even realize what I’m doing, I arch upward, my nipples hardening, aching for attention.
“I like that,” I say.
“Me too,” he murmurs, his gaze latched on my breasts.
I move my hand. Is he completely naked next to me, or does he sleep in his boxers? I guess I’m about to find out. I inch downward, but my fingers stop when an elastic band prohibits any further exploration. I linger around the band and just lightly brush my fingers over his stomach.
“Fuck,” he murmurs, and he slides one big palm over my breasts, taking me into his hand. He massages gently, and lightly rubs his thumb over my aching bud.
“Yes,” I hiss, and his breathing changes, becomes a little heavier.
I want to touch him as much as I want him to touch me. With a new kind of want zinging through me, I slide my hand into his boxers, and wrap my palm around his big cock and give him a squeeze.
“Jesus, Gemma,” he says with a rough breath.
“You like that, Callan?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“I like it too,” I say.
His hand slides around my back, and he unhooks my bra to free my breasts. “I’m wondering about something,” he says, and I stiffen. Is he having second thoughts? If he is, his brain is telling him one thing, but the cock my hand is wrapped around is telling an entirely different story.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Would you mind if I used something else to touch you?”
“Such as?”
“I was thinking I could use my mouth.” He gently squeezes my nipple and my sex clenches. “Right here, specifically,” he says. My pulse jumps in anticipation, giving me away. “I’m wondering if you’d like that."
“I guess we won’t know until you try,” I say, and take in his hungry grin as his head dips. I sink into my pillow as his hot mouth closes around my nipple and with one hand on his cock, lightly pumping up and down, I slide the other hand around his head, letting him know in no uncertain terms how much I love what he’s doing. His tongue swirls over my bud, and the way he’s touching me, like my pleasure is paramount,
