Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 60360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
“Touch me, Caleb,” she demanded.
He didn’t respond. He didn’t move toward her, either.
She unclasped her bra and tugged it down. “I won’t break,” she assured him. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.” She kicked off her boots and popped the button on her jeans.
“This is not going to happen,” he told her. “Get dressed, get your shit, and get out of my house.”
Izzy wiggled out of her jeans and tossed them aside. “Make me,” she countered.
“Izzy, I swear to God,” he said as she stood before him in just her panties. “I will…”
“You’ll what?” she prompted. “What will you do to me?”
Caleb moved forward, reaching for her with one hand. She could tell by the look in his eyes he hadn’t yet given in. She moved backward, out of his reach, and toward the bedroom behind her. “You need to leave,” he demanded and reached for her again once they were inside the bedroom. He finally grasped her wrist and pulled her forward.
Instead of fighting his hold, Izzy surged forward and stood on her toes. Her face was just inches from his. “No!” she said firmly.
And this was the catalyst; the brittle moment that had crackled between them now snapped. Izzy found herself lifted and moved, not toward the bed but to the wall next to it. Her back hit the cool plaster with a thud.
“Get out before you get hurt,” he demanded. “Before I hurt you!” His voice was gravelly, full of venom. He’d no doubt successfully ordered a lot of people around this way. Izzy might have been afraid, might have wondered about how much danger she was in, if it weren’t for his large hand cradling the back of her head, protecting it from the wall he’d just pushed her into.
“You don’t want to hurt me, Caleb,” she said calmly.
“I will,” he replied.
There was a slight tremor to his voice. So tiny, so faint, Izzy was only just barely sure she’d heard it. But it was there. His other hand was pressed flat against the wall, pinning her in.
“Touch me, Caleb.”
He hesitated a moment then punched the wall beside her. “I can’t,” he said through gritted teeth.
His eyes flashed in the moonlight coming in through the window. To anyone else it would’ve looked like anger, like white hot rage simmering below the surface. And she supposed some part of him was angry, but not at her. No. When it came to her, Caleb Barnes wasn’t angry. He was afraid.
“Put your hands on me, Caleb.”
He glared at her. “Is that what you want? You want to get hurt? You like it rough? You like pain, Izzy?”
Izzy raised her chin and looked him in the eye. “I want everything you have to give me,” she replied.
Caleb had a hold of her hair at the scalp, which didn’t hurt her but couldn’t be fought against. He angled her toward the bed. Pushing her down, he released his grip and laid his forearm across her chest, immobilizing her.
“Is this what you want?” he demanded, hovering over her. His free hand grabbed her panties and yanked. The fabric bit into her skin and then tore. “You want it like this, Izzy? You want to get hurt?” His hand was on the button of his jeans and he yanked open the fly with a jerk that shook the whole bed.
Izzy couldn’t move with his weight on her. She couldn’t raise her arms high enough to reach him, so she spread her legs as he moved in between them.
He hesitated, one arm holding her against the bed, the other hand grasping his rock-hard cock.
“Give me everything,” she told him, because she couldn’t make him do it herself.
His body tensed before he plunged inside her, burying himself completely. She cried out from the force of it. She couldn’t hold him in her arms, so she wrapped her legs around him. The metal of his zipper scraped against the skin of her thighs as he pounded into her. She blinked back tears of frustration as her own climax taunted her, out of reach, just like he was. Izzy closed her eyes and waited for him to finish. He needed this. He couldn’t live without it. Because he wasn’t really living at all, not that she could see. He was just going through the motions. He had so much more to offer. He didn’t even realize it. She hated how lonely he was, so she relaxed under his weight and let him drive into her. She hoped with every thrust he was aware that he wasn’t alone. Not with her. He was never alone with her.
After he came inside her, she lay underneath him, drowsy and spent but in a completely different way. She drifted off to sleep, only vaguely aware that he’d left the room, closing the door softly behind him. She frowned in the darkness. Maybe he wasn’t ready to stay, but he wasn’t kicking her out and that was something, at least. She rolled to her side and gathered his pillow to her, breathing in his scent. It was a poor substitute.