Page 23 of Wicked Duty
He lifts an eyebrow. “You have nothing to worry about.”
“Huh?” I try to calm my racing heart. His eyes…he looks…hungry?
“I’m here in a professional capacity.” He presents me with his back so that he can pour a splash of milk into his mug. “Even if I weren’t, you’re not my type.”
And just like that, Callum Kavanagh slaps me across the face with his disinterest at seven in the freaking morning before returning to his coffee like nothing happened.
My molars grind together. Once. Just once, I’d like to break this man’s control, create chaos in his world, and see how he likes it.
I ball my hands into fists and spew out the first words that pop into my head. “Bite me.”
The tendons in his neck tense and then relax. “As much as the thought of biting you intrigues me,” he has the audacity to shoot me a chastising look, “I’m a professional, and therefore, I have no intention of crossing any personal boundaries with you.”
“I wish you would.” The words tumble out before I can stop them. I cringe, wondering if it’s possible to literally die from embarrassment.
His lips part. The intensity in his clear green eyes reads as confusion. Or maybe…desire? “Excuse me?”
Triumph warms my belly. For once, I think I’ve thrown him. If he wants to play the consummate professional, then maybe I should play the tease. See how far his disinterest really goes.
My arms drop from my chest. I relax my fists and cross the kitchen with slow, deliberate steps, holding his gaze the entire time. I pluck the mug from his hands, setting it on the counter.
“You heard me. I wish youwould.” I slide my hand from the mug to Callum’s arm, brushing over the spot near his elbow where his rolled-up sleeve meets skin. “Go ahead, Kavanagh. Cross a line.”
I drag my teeth over my lower lip.
Callum’s chest hitches. Then his eyes narrow. He doesn’t move, but a muscle in his jaw twitches as he clenches his teeth hard enough for me to hear the grind.
I hit him with my sultriest smile and skate my fingers up his arm to his chest, pausing to toy with the button of his shirt. “Come on, I dare you. Or are you too worried about your job?”
The tension in the kitchen thickens.
Several seconds tick by with him staring at me before he inhales a quick breath and reaches up to snag my wrist. “Tread carefully, Marlow. Wouldn’t want you to get in over your head.” His voice deepens and darkens.
I repress the shiver that voice triggers and tunnel the fingers of my free hand through Callum’s hair. “I know you said I’m not your type, but we both know that’s a lie.” Inching closer, I brush my lips across his tense jaw as the scent of cedar and vanilla assault my senses. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I’m not watching.”
A small hiss escapes him, but he says nothing. Just stands there while I continue to run my fingers through his dark auburn waves. I lower my hand, trailing my fingertips along his face, his jaw, his throat.
His eyes shutter half closed as his hold on my other wrist loosens.
My own pulse accelerates. I drag my manicured nails down his chest, relishing the twitch of firm muscle beneath my hand. When I reach his abs, his stomach tightens.
I pause to give him time to stop me, and when nothing happens, I trail my fingers lower.
Another hiss escapes his lips, and I snap my gaze to his. There’s no mistaking the feral glint in his eyes now. He stares back at me with a raw, unfiltered desire that mirrors my own.
My hand reaches the waist of his pants, and I run a finger over the cold metal of his belt buckle. “You’re not made of stone after all, are you, Mr. Bodyguard?”
Callum snatches both my hands and spins us around. I gasp as the edge of the sharp, cool countertop digs into the small of my back.
He pins me with his sturdy body, chest to chest, hip to hip. I’m trapped, and I can’t do a damn thing about it. When he presses his knee between my thighs, my core throbs.
For the first time in a long time, my body reacts to human touch in a way that doesn’t trigger a panic attack. I actuallywanthim. Want him to put his hands on me. To kiss me. Replace my terrible memories with new ones. Good ones.
Callum leans in, his breath teasing my ear. “If we cross this line, there’s no going back. Is that what you want?”
Another voice whispers in the back of my mind.I know you want this. Don’t try to fight me. Be a good little whore and take it.
My breathing quickens as the room tilts. Cold sweat breaks out on the back of my neck. Suddenly, I’m no longer in my apartment. I’m back in that awful place. Powerless and terrified.
