Page 82 of In You
There's no reaction. His sharp eyes bore into mine so intensely that I squirm under him as my nightmare fades, my anxiety faces, and my fear all fly out the window with that look that lets me know this man is mine. He's mine. Belongs to me and I'll never let him go.
Removing my hand from his chest I trace over his lips gently with a fingertip, forcing myself to somehow not melt under his dark gaze. "You're mine," I whisper timidly.
I don't think women are supposed to be so possessive, but here we are.
His brow arches and his eyes flick to my lips, he licks them, as if he's hungry. "Being mine's a lot of work, sweetheart," he says, his voice hoarse and low with desire.
His cock thickens against the side of my hip where he's pressed against me, and I press my finger to the seam of his mouth a bit. He sucks my finger in his mouth, licking before nipping the pad of my finger with his teeth. His eyes turn playful as he tightens just a little harder.
"Ouch," I complain, scrunching up my nose as I jerk my finger away and playfully press against his jaw, turning his face away. He swings his gaze back to mine, chuckling before he bends down, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. I raise my head up off the pillow to follow his mouth as he pulls away, but he puts a broad hand to my chest and pushes me back down to the bed roughly.
"Stay here. I'm going to make you a cup of hot tea."
A goofy look I've never felt myself make before passes over my face and I put the back of my hand to my lips, trying to hide what has to be a goofier smile. "Okay," I giggle, hating how red my face feels like it’s getting.
He gives me another knowing, sexy chuckle before sliding off the bed and then backing up to the door, keeping his eyes on me.
"Don't hurt yourself," I tease quietly, sure as shit that he's going to stumble into the door, but of course, he doesn't. I don't even know why I thought he would, he knows this house and property like the back of his hand.
Caleb smiles and then turns, opening the door and then disappearing down the hallway with Ringo close on his heels.
The second his footsteps are gone I jump up to my feet in the bed and then jump up and down like a lovesick teenager, having a mini freak out. I can't wait to tell Sarah about this. I fall to the soft covers and then stare up at the ceiling wide eyed. I know I feel it, but….am I ready?
Like actually ready to let someone in enough to love them?
For me, love's never been hard, ever. But honestly, Caleb's not hard to love. His abject vulnerability underneath that layer of stoicism, makes a person want to love him. I hope I'm easy to love like that.
When he walks back into the room with a tray tea service for two, I sit up and pull back the covers so he can join me back in bed. He slides in and I'm struck by how much space he takes up. Equally as struck as how the size of him doesn't bother me.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asks, putting the tray over my legs and then grabbing his own mug to blow on it.
"About what?"
He looks at me sharply, furrowing his brow and frowning. "The nightmare."
"Oh," I say, adding a bit of honey and lemon to my cup and stirring. "I don't remember it."
Thank God.
He makes a soft sound in his throat before the room plunges into comfortable silence. He never pushes me, letting me take my time with things that are difficult. It's a nice change from before. Looking over at him, I rest my head on the headboard and stare for a few seconds, willing myself to be brave.
"Calvin used to force me to talk about stuff with him," I say. "My trauma. Then when it was all said and done he used it against me. Love bombed me half to death. Took advantage of my grief and made me feel like I could trust him." I look down at my lap and then blink back tears.
"Tamryn, I wouldn't do that to you…I hope I haven't been triggering you this whole time with my shit," Caleb says, closing his eyes on a groan. He tilts his head down and gives his head a little shake, like he's chastising himself.
"No," I say, running my hand down his forearm. "Honey, you don't trigger me…" He goes silent, just staring into his cup. "Caleb?"
"But I think I do." He heaves a big sigh as his eyes turn sad."Tamryn, the first time I told you I loved you, you switched to your seven year old identity, and you didn't come back to yourself for almost eighteen hours."
Oh…
Wait.
Awed, I look at him, nibbling my bottom lip."You told me you loved me before?"
He clears his throat softly, bringing his eyes back to mine in a look that I can't decipher. But I feel it. It feels open, welcome, and safe. "Yeah," he says. "I did."
"I'm so sorry," I whisper. I try to remember, but I can't. That's the most stressful part of this entire ordeal, is the huge lapses in memories, but then there's unexpected slivers of memories that bleed through. It's almost more frustrating than the chunks of memory that are gone. I'd rather it all go away. That way I can just start fresh.
