Page 13 of Hook, Line, and Tentacle
“Cal—”
He steps into my space, then past me, placing one large hand on my back to steer me firmly forward until I’m out of his apartment,into the hall, and standing at the stairwell doorway back up to the attic.
“I mean it,” he says. “Stay away.”
I spin to face him. I can still feel my pulse all over my body, but mostly between my legs. “That’s not how this works. You don’t get to shut me out just because you’re scared.”
He arches a brow. “Aren’t you?”
“Of you?” I laugh, breathless. “No. And you know I’m not staying away after that.”
His eyes narrow. “Why not?”
He asks like it genuinely confuses him. It’s frankly hilarious, him wondering at all, considering he just gave me the best orgasm of my life.
“You threatened me with a good time.”I smile, mock-sweet.“You can’t just take it back.”
He exhales through his nose. “Consent can be withdrawn at any time.”
I match his stare. “Yes. It can. Would you like to withdraw your consent, or would you like to stop lying to yourself?”
Cal’s jaw flexes, but he doesn’t answer. I take the first step backward up the stairs before turning away from him, skin still thrumming with the heat of him.
“I hope you know what you’re in for,” I call over my shoulder, where I can tell he’s not moved an inch because I feel the molasses-slow crawl of his gaze all over me. “Your little trespasser is a brat.”
Chapter 4
Near the Water
Iend up back at the water. I’m not exactly sure why, it just feels like I have to be. Something pulls on me until I move toward it, and when I do, the riot inside me ebbs away.
The waves are choppy. There’s a storm coming in, but I don’t back up. Wind tugs at my clothes and whips my hair around my face until I can hardly see. The tide is rising fast, crawling up the beach and licking at my bare feet like it knows I want to be dragged closer.
I should go inside. That’s what someone sensible would do. But I’m not sensible, and the storm doesn’t scare me.
I take a step into the water. It’s cold enough to sting, and my toes go numb almost instantly, but I don’t flinch. The sensation cuts clean through me, and for a second, I think I can breathe better with it. My pulse steadies and my limbs feel heavy, but not in a bad way—like that peaceful moment right before you fall asleep.
I don’t realize I’m moving further into the tide until the next wave hits my knees. Another, my thighs. Salt and foam lap against my skin, and the hem of my dress clings soaked and dragging against my legs. It’s too deep. I know that, but I keep walking.
I can’t hear much over the wind, but I swear something calls to me below the surface—low and slow and ancient. It curls around my ankles, pulls at my calves. I don’t fight it.
I don’t panic, even as the current drags harder, even as the shelf underfoot drops out, and I’m plunged into the cold.
It’s black down here.
The silence is silence the way the aftermath of a grenade jammed in your teeth is silent. It roars until nothing else can scream over it.
I stop kicking. My hair lifts like seaweed around my face, and everything in me goes quiet. Like this is right where I’m meant to be.
Then a hand—nope, arms, really fucking big ones—grab hold of me.
I’m ripped out of the water so fast itmakes my teeth rattle. My lungs seize as I’m hauled into the air, choking and coughing. I blink rain and sea spray out of my eyes. Salt stings my skin as warmth wraps around me, smooth and slick and holding tightly.
Cal’sstormy eyes are wild as he heaves a breath, stomping out of the water with me cradled against his chest. His jaw clenches so tight it could crack. His arms are folded around me, and his tentacles wrap over top, I guess to try and warm me up.
Fair, because I’m freezing.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” His voice isn’t just furious—it’s panicked. Frantic and high-pitched in a thin, shaky way I’ve never heard from him. It’s the type of emotional volatility I’d deemed him incapable of, honestly.
