Save Me: a Stepbrother Romance (12 page)

“Can I kiss you again, Nat?” 

He glanced down at my trembling lip. 

“God, I love your mouth.”  His thumb ran along my lower lip.  “Do you know how much I’ve dreamed about biting that?”

I swallowed hard.  “What if someone catches us?”

He smile crookedly, then leaned forward, brushing his lips against my ear.  “They won’t,” he whispered.  “I told you, Nat.  I’m good at being bad.  I never get caught.”  He kissed my jaw.  “Would you like me to show you how bad I can be?”

God, yes.

“Hm.  Didn’t think you’d be that enthusiastic.”

“Shit, did I say that out loud?”

He chuckled and ran his lips across my throat.  I couldn’t stand it anymore.  I needed him.

“Yes.  Okay,” I said.  “Kiss me.”

“You have such a way with words, Pink.”

“Don’t call me th—”

Before I could finish, his lips were on mine, warm and soft and sweet.  A soft moan escaped my mouth.  God, he tasted amazing.  He tilted his head a little, opening his mouth, and I eagerly answered the movement with my own.  Our lips fitted together so perfectly, like two pieces of the same puzzle.

The sharp squeal of a car skidding along our road snapped me out of my Cal induced trance.  I froze. 

“Shit!” I breathed.

God, what if it was Mom, or James?  And they walked into me kissing my stepbrother at the kitchen table?  I pulled away immediately, slapping a hand over my mouth and looking at the front door in horror. 

Cal just snorted.

“Don’t worry.  They’re gone,” he said, reading my mind.  “We have the house to ourselves for the whole day.”

“Oh.”  I let my hand down.  Cal’s hand slipped over it again, comforting and gentle.

“If it makes you feel safer, we can go to my room.”

“Now I know you’re trying to fuck me.”

Cal grinned.  “Can’t blame me, can you?” 

His gaze lowered to linger on my chest seductively, and my heart stopped again.  God, I loved when he looked at me like that.  His fingers traced my palm, and he growled a sigh. 

“You really are gorgeous, Nat.  That isn’t bullshit either, whether you believe it or not.  Do you know how much I’ve wanted to suck on those sweet t—”

The sound of an engine roared outside the door.  My grip on his hand tightened.

“Nat, we’re fine.  I told you no one’s coming home.”

“I hope so, if all you’re after is sucking on my tits.”

His touch disappeared, and I ached for it to come back. 

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“No, I believe you.”  I shook my head, trying to gather my thoughts.  “I know you’re teasing, it’s just … this is all so fast.  And I’m nervous.  But I still want you.  But I’m afraid.”  I groaned and put my head in my hands.  “I don’t know what I want.”

Cal’s hand slipped over mine again. 

“I told you, Nat,” he said in a soft voice.  “I don’t want to use you.  I care about you.  And I’ll take whatever part of you you’re ready to give me.”  His thumb rolled calming circles into my palm.  “I don’t deserve you, Natalie Harlow.  I want you—God, I want you so fucking bad—but I’m ready to wait.  And I can wait a long time.  I’m stubborn as shit.”

“You are a stubborn ass,” I agreed.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

God, it was amazing to hear him call me
sweetheart
.  But then another car screeched outside our door.  I flinched.

Cal rolled his eyes.  “Come on, let’s go before another car comes by.  We can’t have a conversation with you freaking out every two seconds.”

It was true.  And the curiosity was burning inside me. 

I had no idea what Cal’s room looked like, I realized.  The boy had lived in my house for nearly two months by now, and I had never even wondered what it looked like inside the mancave he retired to every evening.  And the thought of being alone, in privacy, with him was almost too delicious to bear.

“Alright,” I said, standing and letting him lead me up the stairs. 

Time to bravely go where no woman had gone before.

Cal’s room was mind-blowing. 

Not because it was a terrifying jail cell or a dungeon or anything else I had imagined in my nightmares … but because it was normal.  Too normal for Cal.  I sat on the gingham bedspread, glancing over the bare white walls and the single backpack slung on the floor.  He hadn’t bothered to put any decoration up, and the room felt hollow with only a bed, desk, and small wardrobe. 

Cal leaned against the doorframe as he watched me examine his room.  His even gaze was fixed on my face again, and I realized he was waiting for a reaction.

“No decorations?” I asked, breaking  the silence.

“I didn’t expect to be staying here long.”

“Really?”

“Our parents don’t exactly get along, Nat.”

“Wait, what?” 

I was momentarily distracted from the confusing bedroom.  I hadn’t noticed anything wrong between Mom and James.  Though then again, I was probably too busy trying to survive living with my terrifying stepbrother to notice anything outside of that goal. 

“What do you mean?”

“They fight.  All the time.” 

He cocked his head and took a seat beside me.  His hand rested on my knee, and once again electric sparks flew out of it.  “You really haven’t noticed?”

“I guess I was distracted.”

Cal’s cocky grin reappeared.  “By what?”

Shit, shit, shit, shouldn’t have said that. 

“By … uh … well, by you.”

Shit!  Really should not have said
that
.

Cal’s hand slid a little up my thigh.  My breath caught.  God, that felt good. 

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“In what way?”

“In the I-don’t-want-to-be-murdered-by-you way.”

He laughed, not realizing how true that was, at least when it came to the first week we had lived together. 

Relief flooded me when he didn’t move his hand away.  Having him so close to me, so intimately, was doing things to me.  Not to mention that the warmth of his body was sinking into mine.  I could feel his heavy form pressing against me—not dangerously or intrusively, but magnetically. 

I wanted him closer.

“Are you sure that’s it?”

“Well, there’s also the I-want-him-inside-of-me way.”

Shit, Nat, keep shoving that foot further down your throat.

But it was true, and I knew it.  And I wouldn’t take it back. 

Cal’s eyes grew wide, and his grip on my thigh unconsciously tightened a little. 

“Jesus, Nat.  Did that really just come out of your mouth?  You really aren’t as innocent as you pretend to be.”

He made a move to get up, and I grabbed his hand.  “No, don’t go!  I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking—”

He gave me a strange look.  I realized his chest was rising and falling a little faster, and there was a blush crawling up his cheeks.  He wasn’t embarrassed—he was turned on. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Nat.  It’s not your fault.”

“Then why are you leaving?”

“Because … Jesus, Nat.  Because if I don’t, I’m going to do something really, really stupid.”

“Like what?”

“There’s a beautiful woman in my bed, we’re home alone, and she just said she wants me inside her.  Take a wild guess.”

My heart raced.  He motioned to move again, but I grabbed his arm and forced him back onto the bed. 

“Why is that stupid?  Do you … do you not want me?”

His jaw dropped again, and I got that you-cannot-be-serious look.  “Nat.  How can you even ask that?  I told you I—”  He choked on his words a little, but then cleared his throat.  “I told you how I felt about you.  I will never not want you.”

“Then why is it stupid?”

He groaned and let his head fall in his hands.  “I told you, Nat.  I’m bad for you.  I’m not perfect like you are.  You deserve so much better than me.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.  And I told you.  I’m not going to use you.”

“What if I want you?  Have you never thought of that?”

 “You don’t want me.  I’m not your type, Nat.  I’m an asshole.”

“You said it before yourself.  Good girls like me always want bad boys.”

“I was just teasing you—”

“But it’s true.  I want you, Cal.”  I leaned forward and brushed his cheek with my lips.  The rough stubble of his unshaven cheek scratched against my skin.  He froze.

“Nat … please don’t say that if you don’t mean it.”

“I mean it.  Kiss me.”

His eyes searched mine for a moment, looking for permission.  It was there.  I wanted him. 

I had always wanted him, I realized.  Not the asshole him, the mask he hid behind.  But the real him.  Callum Gatlin, who punched my abusive boyfriend when I was too afraid to.  Who held me when I cried.  Who knew I hated him and protected me anyway.

I parted my lips, never breaking eye contact with him.

Helpless, he leaned forward, and his open mouth met mine.  He tasted amazing.  God, I wanted him. 

“Fuck, Nat,” he breathed. 

His mouth pressed harder against mine, and his tongue slipped inside me.  I moaned against his mouth, and that just made him more desperate.  Before I knew what was happening, his arms had slipped around my waist and pushed me back onto the bed. 

“Please,” I whispered. 

I was desperate for him.  I didn’t care it was wrong, I didn’t care about anything anymore.  All I cared about was how good Callum’s strong hands were biting into my hips and how delicious his tongue was in my mouth.

“You have no fucking idea,” he panted.  His fingers ran through my hair, and I dug my nails into his back.  “No fucking idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”