Page 36 of Stalked

Another bell rang at the front. Not her.

“Shannon, let’s go. Cami’s not coming,” I said, but Caleb reached for me before I could stand up. Long fingers gripped my hip and held me firm to the seat, while his other hand snaked between my legs. My breath caught as soon as the image hit me, but he only went far enough to touch my thigh, stroking me gently as if he wanted to calm my nerves. It was as if he had sensed how I felt without me even telling him.

Of course, he did.

If anything, he was making it worse. So much worse. Not because I was afraid, but because the pulse of adrenaline that hit me only made his touch feel that much fucking better.

I felt the pads of his fingers stroking along my inner thigh, somehow feather-light and rough at the same time. It’s been so long since I felt this kind of desire, I hadn’t realized how much I missed it. It was all I could do to part my legs slowly for him instead of throwing myself at his mercy.

I knew it was wrong. I knew it was stupid. I took a deep breath in and out, trying to collect myself, but nothing made a difference. All I wanted was for Caleb to keep touching me, setting my skin on fire as his fingers moved further under my skirt.

“Oh, my God,” I breathed, prompting Shannon to look over at me.

“What?” She looked entirely oblivious to what Caleb was doing under the counter. My brain scrambled to piece together enough of the English language to keep it that way.

“I just had an idea to pass the time until Cami gets here! Music,” I said. “You should pick something on the jukebox over by the window.”

Her eyes lit up immediately; Shannon always loved music. Checkmate.

“Done!” she said. “Be right back.”

The moment she stepped off the barstool and left us alone, I turned to him, slapping his wandering hand away in the process. His closeness was pissing me off just as much as it was turning me on. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he got under my skin.

“Are you really this immature?” I asked. “We’re in public.”

“Wow. You really are different in this life. The Mercy I knew used to love it when I would make her a little … uncomfortable.” He wasn’t quite smirking, but one look at the fucking twinkle in his eye, and he might as well have been. God, I hate him.

I narrowed my eyes. “This isn’t the same body as before.”

His cocky smile was back, so wide it took over his face as he rolled his eyes at me. “Could have fooled me,” he said.

“Get over yourself.”

“Fine. Dance with me instead,” he conceded.

“No.”

Caleb planted his feet on the floor and reached over, taking my arm with one smooth glide, then pulled me away from the bar and into his arms.

I could hear that the song Shannon had picked wasGod Only Knowsby The Beach Boys.

Caleb snaked his arms around my waist, pulling me into his warm, muscular chest. Turning my head to the right, I could tell Shannon was bored with watching us already. She was taking the hand of some biker guy—a tall, skinny man with a black bandana, leather jacket, and a tattoo across his hairline—and pulling him onto the dancefloor.

Caleb moved my body to the music, and I snuck a glance at the smile he had on his face.

“Fine,” I said, surrendering to my growing curiosity. “Tell me about the Mercy that you used to know.”

Caleb was the only one who could share that part of my soul’s existence, and I wanted to know.

The smirk on his face showed that this is what he wanted, to take a stroll down memory lane together and talk about all the raunchy details of our love affair. He wanted me to know who I was so I could embrace her again.

“Stubborn,” he said. “You were very, very stubborn.”

“Still am,” I teased.

“Oh, I can see that.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What else? What did I enjoy doing?”

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