Cal’s hand slides into my hair, his fingertips dragging along my scalp, making me shiver. He presses a kiss to my forehead and lets out a relieved sigh that makes my heart sing. Then a kiss to my nose. Finally a soft peck to my lips.
I tilt my head up, angling it a little to silently beg for a real kiss. With a ravenous groan, he indulges me in what I crave. His tongue swipes across mine, eager and owning. It sends a thrill down my spine.
Cal doesn’t kiss like a normal guy.
He kisses like he’s making a statement.
Proving a theory.
Passing a law.
All you can do is sign on the proverbial dotted line. Moan in agreement. Accept his dominating kiss and all his unspoken vows.
He kisses me until I’m clawing at his shirt, need buzzing through me. In a rough move, he jerks away, his green eyes searing hungrily into mine. Those intense eyes slide down to my swollen, wet lips.
“You kiss like you’re trying to steal my soul, evil woman.”
A smile tugs at my lips. “Did it work?”
“You’ve stolen something,” he grumbles as he, once again, hoists me into his truck.
The door closes before I can even process his words.
What did I steal besides his best friend?
Certainly not his heart.
I’m pretty sure Cal doesn’t have one of those up for grabs. He’s been a womanizing playboy for as long as I’ve known him. If he has a heart, it’s buried deep. Me, of all people, wouldn’t have been able to find it.
Yet, I’ve never seen him look at any of those party girls like he looks at me.
Every look is a promise. So many vows loaded into his stare. Declarations that I don’t deserve but he keeps throwing at me anyway.
And, like the greedy girl I am, I collect each and every one of them.
Cal stares out of the giant window of Dad’s loft that overlooks the Columbia River. It’s not a huge place, but big enough that Penny and I each have our rooms when we come to stay with him. His décor is sleek and modern, a far cry from the way Mom used to decorate our old house in Vermont. I like it, though. It’s so Dad. He’s always had a taste for the finer things in life.
“Samantha is on it,” Dad says, returning from his office. “I also ordered food. Cal, stay for dinner.”
Cal turns, nodding. After the whole police debacle, we came back to Dad’s where we explained everything that happened. Dad took it all in, barely able to contain his rage, and then he went to make phone calls. Cal’s been silent ever since.
“I think you need to move in here,” Dad says, dropping the bomb in my lap as he sits next to me on the sofa.
“What? Why? What about Mom?”
He flinches, hurt flashing in his eyes. “This isn’t about me keeping you from your mother,” he assures me. “After Ryan showing up at the house and then today with his father, I just think you’ll be safer here. I have a doorman and security in this building. Please don’t fight me on this, princess.”
I frown. “Mom will be sad.”
“Kelsey will get over it,” Cal grunts, coming to Dad’s aid. “He’s right.”
A shudder ripples through me as I recall the way I’d felt when Ryan emerged from the shadows. Helpless. Frozen in fear. Terrified beyond belief. “Okay,” I croak out.
Dad lets out a rushed breath of relief. “I’d feel better if Penny came too. I want my girls safe.”
Dad’s phone rings. He glances at it and then mouths, “Samantha,” before rising and heading back to his office. Cal plops down in the spot Dad vacated.
“Rich bitch,” Cal teases, his green eyes glinting with meanness.
I roll my eyes. “He’s rich, not me.”
“But you’re a daddy’s girl, so it’s yours too.”
“Says the spoiled boy who owns a campground,” I taunt back.
He smirks. “Show me your room, loser. I want to test out the bed.”
“Asshole,” I grumble, but climb to my feet.
I lead him down the hallway to the bedroom across from the office. Dad can be heard talking loudly to Samantha, even through the closed door. I push into my room that’s been painted a pretty off-white. I like my room at Dad’s because it’s so clean and fresh. A blank canvas. The bedspread and pillows are white. Even the throw rug on the floor is white. It reminds me of the room I had in rehab, which actually brings back good memories.
My bedroom at home has horrible ones.
All of which include Ryan.
Cal sits down on the bed, bouncing a little, an evil smirk on his face. I shake my head as I open one of the drawers on the dresser. He’s quiet as I pull out some cotton shorts and a T-shirt. I start for the bathroom, but he shakes his head.
“You remember the deal, Hoodlum?” His green eyes flash with challenge.
“The one I made with the devil?”
He grins, wolfish. Full of bright, shiny teeth keen on devouring me. “That’s it.”
“Me changing clothes in front of you is somehow going to make my life a living hell?” I clarify. “I’m not afraid of you seeing me naked.”
He leans back on the bed, resting on his elbows. “I’m not done. Stripping is the first part.”
Cal Hutton thinks he unnerves me. Truth is, he lights a match on my battered soul that’s been shredded. I’m brittle and paper-thin. All he’s doing is making me burn. Transforming me from something weak and decaying to something bright and brilliant. It makes me feel powerful seeing the need in his eyes. I retake what was stolen from me.
In a slow way meant to torture, I peel off my shirt, revealing my black lacy bra. He gives nothing away. Not a smirk. Not a
