Page 49 of Bad For Me (Rock Canyon, Idaho 5)

Callie’s heart ached for him and the things he must have seen over there, but she was afraid to touch him. She had only ever loved one boy, and he’d known everything about her. He’d been her friend, her confidant, her lover. It had been sweet and simple, and she’d been so sure of everything until it had gone to hell.

What was happening with Everett was different because of who she was now. It was messy and scary and arousing and exciting, and all of it had her on edge, unsure of who she was supposed to be. She couldn’t be the simple, fun-loving girl she’d been with Tristan; she’d seen and been through too much for that.

Should she flirt? Should she play the seductress or the tease? If she was just the woman she’d become—one who loved popcorn and PG movies—would that be enough for him?

Unable to face him with so much confusion and uncertainty rattling around in her head, she turned back to the bookshelf, skimming across the spines to distract herself from him.

“So you read romance, Tom Clancy—”

Suddenly, his hand reached past her and pulled another book off the shelf. “Even Shakespeare.”

He held the worn copy of Much Ado About Nothing out, and she took it. “So I guess this means you’re cultured and sophisticated.”

“Or I just like to read.”

God, she could almost feel his lips against the skin on the back of her neck; tingles were already electrifying her skin. “So you read anything?”

“Yep, anything. Even you.”

This time she didn’t have to imagine the sweet brush of his lips just below her hairline. They kissed a burning trail up the side of her neck to her ear, the warmth of his breath spreading everywhere.

“I think you want me, but you’re afraid to admit it, even to yourself.”

His mouth closed over the pulse below her ear, and the hard, fast suction made her back bow. She reached out to steady herself against the bookshelf, and he covered her hands with his, lacing their fingers. Then he pushed them up over her head, the motion bringing his front flush with her back.

“I think you avoid looking at me because you’re afraid I’ll see how your eyes liquefy when you’re thinking about me touching you, kissing you. Rubbing my hands all over your body until you’re wet and throbbing.”

Her nipples tightened against the cotton of her bra, and she moaned as he nipped along her skin. She pushed back into him involuntarily and when he pushed against her, she could feel her panties grow damp. She squeezed her legs together, trying to control the throbbing need building with every word and teasing touch.

“Please.” Her voice was harsh, and she sucked in a deep, shuddering breath when he released one of her hands.

“What do you want, Callie?” His fingers slid across her neck and over her collarbone.

“I thought you already knew.”

Everett’s hand stopped, hovering over her breast. “I want to hear you say it.”

Callie whimpered as she tried to turn in his arms, but he pressed into her, pinning her with his body. Panic started to claw its way to the surface, and as if sensing her distress, he immediately let her go.

She turned around to face him, his hand still clasping hers against the bookshelf.

“I’m sorry. I got carried away.”

But her fear was gone now that she was faced with the worry in those kind brown eyes, and she found her gaze drawn to his lips. Those full lips, which had been so gentle on hers just days before, were so close. She could lift up just a little and keep this thing going—

Callie realized the lips were moving. He had asked her something. “What?”

“I said, do you want to watch a movie?”

Callie looked away from Everett’s gorgeous lips toward the brown sofa, the fire that crackled from the fireplace, and Ratchet watching them from a few feet away.

A movie meant sitting on the couch, closely, and possible cuddling.

God, was she sweating through her shirt? That was embarrassing. Did she smell? She was tempted to use his bathroom, just so she could check.

“Sure, that sounds great.” She took a deep breath when he walked over to the TV, and she realized how close she’d come to letting him have his way with her against the bookshelf.

Just the fact that things had gone as far as they had showed her she was starting to trust him. Maybe there was hope for her again.

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