Callum (Blue Halo Book 7)
Callum: Chapter 13

Fiona tugged Callum’s T-shirt over her head. And there it was again. The smell that was all him. It surrounded her. Consumed her. And she loved it.

She released her updo so her hair fell softly around her shoulders. Then she took a deep breath. She’d already brushed her teeth and scrubbed her face clean of makeup. Now she just needed to step out of the bathroom. But things felt different between her and Callum now. It wasn’t only because of the dance or the man telling her he wanted to kiss her. It was the time spent with him. Time that had changed things between them. Twisted the relationship into something more intimate.

A delicious shiver ran through her at the memory of their dance. The feel of his arms around her as he whispered sweet things in her ear. They’d stayed on that dance floor for so long she’d had no choice but to forget there were others in the room. Forget Amanda’s words and Freddie’s presence.

With a steadying breath, she stepped out to replace a shirtless Callum with his back to her as he faced the window. A phone was pressed to his ear as he spoke to, presumably, someone on his team. Words like “security” and “data” flew around. She stared at the deep ridges of muscles in his back. The way his olive skin glowed in the moonlight. The funny thing was, his back was just as spectacular as his front.

Then he turned, and those warm brown eyes darkened.

Suddenly, all ability to think or function fled. She wasn’t sure if he was feeling it too, but his words stopped as his gaze brushed over her body.

Holy God, she needed saving from this man.

She swallowed, screaming at her legs to move. When the message from her brain eventually reached her limbs, she made it to the bed, then slipped beneath the covers. But she wasn’t hiding herself from him. And more than that, she wasn’t running from their attraction.

Nerves almost rattled her teeth as she watched him end the call. Which was dumb, right? Because they’d already slept in the same bed. They’d done this last night. Except that was before they’d danced, and he’d admitted to wanting to kiss her. Oh, and she’d been drunk. Drunk people rarely got nervous.

She cleared her throat. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, the guys at work need me to look into something. It can wait until tomorrow.”

“They can’t do it themselves?”

He pulled back the sheets on his side of the bed. “I do a lot of the tech stuff for the company. Finding information. Hacking systems.”

So he was smart and gorgeous and sweet and dangerous. Great. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

He grinned. “I struggle to keep my library books in the same condition I borrow them.”

She laughed. He was right. His one flaw. “If that’s your only problem, you’re doing pretty well.”

He flicked off the light, and with a small sigh, she rolled onto her side, away from him. She lay there for a full five seconds, wondering if she should—

A strong arm slid around her middle and pulled her back into his front. She bit her lower lip to hold in the groan, because his body just felt so…dang…good around her. How the heck was she supposed to sleep without this tomorrow night?

She closed her eyes to the feel of him nuzzling her hair. “Thank you for letting me come this weekend.”

She could have laughed. He was thanking her? “Callum, you have done something for me that I’ll never be able to repay. This weekend should have been so incredibly hard, but it wasn’t. Because of you.”

“Maybe you can repay me by telling me your favorite food so I know where to take you when we get back.”

“Vanilla ice cream with crushed Oreos.” He laughed, and she quickly added, “But I don’t think that’s appropriate first-date food, so maybe lamb shanks?”

“Done.”

Her breath almost caught, because that was him admitting he’d be taking her on a date when they got home. Had this relationship shifted from something fake to something real? Could they make it work when they got home?

“Can I ask you something?” he asked quietly, his rumbly voice brushing over her skin.

“Anything.” Well, anything within reason.

“What did you see tonight before you got locked outside?”

The question had her pausing. Honestly, after everything that had happened with her sister and Callum since, she’d completely forgotten about it. “What I saw was impossible. It was—”

Fists pounding on the door cut off her words. Then a voice. “Fiona? It’s me. Freddie. I need to talk to you.”

She shot up into a sitting position, Callum’s arm falling from her waist. Freddie was here? At her door on his freaking wedding night?

His words had run together, almost sounding slurred. Was the guy drunk?

She was still processing the crazy turn of events when Callum climbed out of bed. Before her slow brain could process what was happening, he was throwing on some pants. She caught a glimpse of the anger on his face before he started toward the door.

He pulled it open, but not enough that she could see Freddie.

“What are you doing here?” Callum’s growled words had her falling out of bed and rummaging around in her suitcase for jeans.

“I want to talk to Fiona.”

“No. Go back to your wife.”

The second her jeans were on, she flew to the door, sliding beside Callum. She started to step forward, but his arm came around her waist, keeping her beside him.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed at Freddie.

“I just need to talk to you.”

“It’s your wedding night, Freddie. You can’t be here.” The words sounded even crazier out loud than they had in her head. It was his wedding night.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. God, the guy almost looked lost. “I know. Just let me talk to you for a second.” His gaze shifted to the stony figure beside her, then back to her. “Alone.”

Callum growled. “No.”

Fiona looked up and down the hall. Where was Amanda? “You need to go back to your room.”

“Not until I’ve talked to you.”

Christ, he had that look in his eye. She remembered it well. It was the stubborn, I’m-not-doing-a-damn-thing-until-I get-what-I-want look.

“Shut the door if you want. I’ll camp out right here until you agree to talk to me.” He scanned the area like he was searching for a good place to sit.

Hell no! Amanda would come searching, and if she found him at her door…

She couldn’t believe she was saying this, but… “If I talk to you, will you leave?”

“Yes.” The answer came so quickly, she almost didn’t believe it. And by the tightening of Callum’s arm around her waist, he didn’t believe it, either. Or maybe he just hated the idea of her talking to Freddie.

She turned and touched Callum’s chest. “We’ll just be a second. We won’t leave this hall, I promise.” Also, he would be able to hear everything, even through the closed door. Still, he didn’t look the least bit happy about it.

It took a full three seconds for his jaw to unclench. “Fine. One minute.”

She nodded, taking a small step into the hall. She missed Callum’s touch immediately. Hell, she even missed the man’s body heat. The second the door closed, she lowered her voice. “What’s going on, Freddie?”

He ran two hands through his hair, almost looking like he was pulling the strands from the root. “I think I made a mistake.”

“You didn’t. You love Amanda, and you married her.”

He had to love her, right? He’d married her only months after Fiona had left.

He was shaking his head before she’d finished speaking. “No. I was going to leave a month ago, but then she told me she was pregnant.”

Fiona stiffened. Amanda was pregnant? She let the information sit inside her for a moment, expecting to feel…something.

Interesting. She didn’t even care.

“That’s amazing. You’re going to have a baby together. Even more reason for you to go to her right now.”

His throat bobbed. “We had a fight.”

He looked down at his hand, and a gasp slipped from her lips. She grabbed his wrist. “Your palm is sliced open!”

“She threw a vase. I picked up one of the shards and it cut me.”

She opened her mouth, almost offering to clean the wound, but she quickly bit back the words. It was his wedding night. His wife should be doing that. “Go back to your room, clean up your wound, and make up with her.”

When he was silent, she looked up to see him watching her closely. “I thought I could live without you, Fiona—”

“Don’t.”

“But seeing you this weekend…touching you…”

“Freddie. You need to go.”

He stepped forward. She moved away, her back hitting the wall.

“I still love you.”

Oh, no he didn’t.

She opened her mouth to tell him that wasn’t true. That if he loved her, he wouldn’t have cheated, and certainly not with her sister.

But before she could utter a single word, his lips crashed onto hers.

A high-pitched, strangling cry escaped from her throat, and she was a second away from kneeing him in the balls when the door flew open—then Freddie was pulled away from her and thrown into the wall.

Callum’s hands fisted as he towered over the asshole, blood roaring between his ears. The sound of Fiona’s distress played over in his head, fueling him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he growled.

Freddie scrambled to his feet and shoved at his chest. “Get the hell away from me!”

Callum didn’t move an inch. He lowered his voice. “You’re drunk and it’s your wedding night—those are the only fucking reasons you’re not on the floor with a broken jaw right now. But believe me when I tell you that if you ever do that again, if I ever catch you kissing any woman without her permission, especially Fiona, I will destroy you.”

Freddie’s eyes widened, real fear in his gaze. Yeah, the scumbag might be drunk, but he wasn’t so written off he missed the promise of violence in Callum’s words.

“Go,” Callum ordered.

Freddie swallowed nervously before glancing at Fiona over Callum’s shoulder. Then, finally, he moved down the hall. Callum waited until the guy had disappeared around the corner before turning to look at Fiona. Her lips were pink.

His muscles vibrated with the need to run down the hall, grab the asshole, and break his jaw like he’d wanted to do the second he saw the man’s lips on Fiona. Instead, he forced his muscles to relax as he stepped forward and ran a thumb over her bottom lip.

“Are you all right?”

“I asked you to wait inside.”

His brows rose at her clipped tone, his gaze skirting between her slightly narrowed eyes. “Are you mad?”

“Yes. You took away my opportunity to knee the bastard in the balls.” Then she spun and stormed back into the room.

His lips twitched as he followed her, throwing the door closed behind them. “You were going to nail him in the balls?”

She shuffled her jeans down her legs, and his gut rippled at the sight of those creamy, toned legs. The second the pants were off, she spun. “Yes. I didn’t get to do it the day I found him in bed with my sister because I was too damn shocked. So that moment just now was my missed opportunity.”

“I don’t think you need a reason. The next time you see him, you can nail him. He’ll know why.”

She growled…actually growled.

He bit back a grin as he stepped forward, his feet almost propelling toward her on their own. “I didn’t like him touching you like that. I’ll always help a woman in distress if I can.”

“But I didn’t need your help. I can fight my own battles. Just because I have breasts doesn’t mean I need a knight in shining armor to save me.”

His eyes twitched to look down at those breasts. They pressed against the material of his shirt, and the sight damn well toyed with him. “I’m not going to sit back and listen as he manhandles you, Fiona. I’m not that guy.”

She swallowed, seeming to notice for the first time how close he’d gotten. This time, when she spoke, her words had less bite to them. “So, block your ears.”

That wasn’t happening. “How about I just hold the asshole down while you pound him?” That sounded like a compromise to him.

“That wouldn’t work.”

He swiped her cheek with his finger. “Why’s that, honey?”

“Because I don’t want him to think I need your help to stand up for myself.”

He lowered his head until his lips brushed her ear. “Five seconds. That’s how long I’ll give you next time before I step in.” He wasn’t even sure he could give her that much, but hell, he’d try. For her, he’d try.

He touched his lips to her cheek and kissed her, enjoying her jagged breath.

“I can work with that.”

His lips stretched into a smile as he shifted his head so his mouth hovered over hers. He wanted to kiss her so damn bad he ached. Her lips called to him, like a fruit that was supposed to be forbidden.

He met her eyes. “It’s just you and me.”

“It is.”

His hands went to her hips, tugging her into him. “Am I allowed to kiss you now?”

Heat blazed in her eyes, and her pulse picked up. She opened her mouth like she was going to say something, but instead, rose to her toes and touched her mouth to his. The feel of her soft lips made his gut tighten and something hot coil over his skin.

His fingers tightened on her flesh, needing to feel more of her against him. Needing her curves to soften his hardness. When her hands moved up his chest and she sighed, her lips parted and he took advantage, sliding his tongue into her mouth to taste her. She moaned, and that moan rippled through his chest.

In one fluid move, he shifted his hands beneath her and lifted her into his arms. She wrapped around him like she’d done it a hundred times. Like they were made to fit exactly as they did.

Needing to feel more of her, he trailed a hand up her thigh, slipping under the shirt and skirting her waist. For a moment, he paused, letting the heat of her skin seep into him. Then her hand covered his, and she whispered, “Touch me,” before shifting his hand so he held her bare breast in his palm.

Every rational thought in his head blackened as he kneaded her breast. Her hums turned into moans, and she dug her fingers into his shoulders. He found her hard nipple and grazed it with his thumb.

“Callum…”

His name on her lips was like a breath of life inside him. He spun and lay her on the bed, never separating their bodies as he hovered over her. Then his lips trailed to her cheek and neck. He shoved the shirt up so her breasts were on full display, allowing himself one look at the pink buds before dropping his head and taking one peak inside his mouth.

Her back arched, the action pushing her sweet flesh farther between his lips. He ran his tongue over her, alternating between swipes and circles.

“More,” she gasped. “I need more of you.”

Hell, fucking, yes, he’d give her more. With his other hand, he trailed down her side before slipping inside her panties where she was warm and wet. She opened for him, her pulse spiking, her fingers tightening on his shoulders. At the first swipe against her clit, she cried out, and that sound tormented him. Twisted and pulled at him.

He caressed again, enjoying every little whimper and raspy moan from her throat.

He switched his mouth to her other breast, devouring her while he continued to play with her. When he slipped one finger down to her entrance, her breaths stalled, then he slid inside. Her gasp cut through the quiet night air. He started a slow rhythm, thrusting in and out, his thumb continuing to run circles over her clit.

When she was trembling on the edge, he shifted up her body and found her mouth, covering it with his own as she broke, her walls convulsing around his finger.

Fuck, she did things to him. Things that made him want to tell the world this woman was his.

When she was finally still, a smile slipped across her lips. Then she whispered, “I like you.”

His chuckle was low. “Good. I like you too.”

She reached for him, but he took hold of her wrist, halting her movement. “Not tonight.”

Confusion darkened her eyes. “Why not?”

“Because if you touch me, I’ll want all of you.” And it was too soon for that. He needed to court this woman first. Make sure she knew she was his.

Her gaze shone with understanding, and he kissed her one last time before straightening her clothes. After turning off the light, he rolled to his back, pulling Fiona close and holding her. Immediately, she softened against him, her cheek resting over his heart.

Yeah. This woman was his. He felt that with everything he was.