He drops puns like he does panties, each one making my breath hitch in my throat. This is painful. Excruciatingly painful.
I woke up this morning convinced I was going to let Caleb fuck me until I no longer wanted to live, but then I went downstairs and there were pancakes waiting for me with crispy chunks of bacon and maple syrup—fucking maple syrup! Do you know how long it has been since my mother has made me pancakes with the lot? Not since I ruined our lives and forced us to move entire states away from Bismarck. They’re finally coming around and I can’t screw it by screwing him. We are in a good place—a strangely good place since Sunday Mass last week.
Surprisingly, Caleb is really good at teaching and explaining the Bible. If I’m being honest, I was expecting more of a chase on his part, maybe a little more bickering, but, besides his suggestive puns and the inappropriate look he gets in his eye whenever I adjust my slipping shirt, he’s doing well.
“What’s your favorite passage?” He asks. “Do you have one now?”
“I guess.” I flick back a few pages, to the part where I left my little pink sticky notes. “Be clearheaded, be watchful; because Satan himself walks about, seeking whom he may devour.”
This book is dramatic as hell. I glance up at him from the passage on the paper in front of me. His green eyes, dark and curious, flick from my lips to meet my gaze.
“How fitting.” He says, his mouth tugging at the corners.
I drag a subtle inhale in through my nose as his attention falls back to my lips. Now that I think about it, he’s really close, choosing to sit adjacent to me, instead of opposite.
My attention zeros in on my knee as his brushes against mine underneath the table. Has he been this close the whole time? Or has he only just moved closer? God. Why is this so hard? Bible study shouldn’t be this difficult!
“Have you ever sucked cock before?” He asks casually, as if the question is as polite as asking how my day was.
Fire as hot as the sun floods into my cheeks, setting them alight. “Excuse me?”
“Have you—”
“I…” I shake my head. “I heard you.”
“Well?”
Gripping the corner of my Bible, I slam it shut and pull it close to my chest. “That’s a little personal, don’t you think?”
Caleb shrugs, pulling a lightly chewed lollipop stick from the small pocket on the breast of his crisp, white tee. Carelessly, he slips the stick between his lips and waits patiently, watching me with amused eyes.
“I’m not answering that.” I tell him with absolute finality. “We barely know each other.”
“You have a beautiful mouth.” He states, ignoring me. “That bottom lip of yours is making me curious.”
Damn. Good line, you beautiful motherfucker.
With smooth indifference, Caleb reaches out for the thick Bible in front of me and flicks through the pages, his judging eyes scanning every word. I swallow hard. I can’t believe I’m about to tell him this.
“Yes. I…I have.”
His eyes flick to mine.
Oh, fuck. My lungs stop working.
The lollipop stick jutting out of his mouth ceases to swirl and the green in his eyes brighten, flashing like a bolt of lightning at the peak of a summer storm. He closes the Bible with a subtle slap.
“You sure?”
I scowl at him. “You know what? Now that you mention it, I might have blown a zucchini. My mistake.”
“Did you like it?” He asks, his gaze falling to my lips once more.
I glare at him. I want it so bad. Here. Right now. Screw him, his green eyes, sexy voice, and nice tan for making this so difficult for me.
I inhale, subtly. I can handle this. What’s a few personal questions between acquaintances? It’s no big deal. All I have to do is steer the conversation away from sex. How hard can that be?
I clear my throat. “Can we talk about something else?”
Caleb sits back in his chair, fighting the devilish tug at the corner of his lips. “Sure.”
Fantastic. Crisis averted.
“Have you fucked?”
Nope. Can’t do it. I drop my hands against the table. “I’m done here. I want to go home.”
Caleb tilts his head, pleased by my announcement. “No, you don’t.”
No, I don’t and that’s what I’m worried about. It’s not worth it. Sex with him can’t be worth it. His prowess, his confidence, he’s has to be compensating for something. With trembling knees, I push myself to my feet.
“Yes, I do.”
Caleb slips his lollipop stick into his shirt pocket and stands up. I gulp as his smell overwhelms me, crisp and fresh, and his chest brushes against mine. I gulp again. He knows how to get a girl going, I’ll give him that.
My lips part as he reaches for my exposed bra strap. The very tips of his fingers brush against my flesh, causing electricity to zap along my skin. Casually, he slips the thin fabric between the pads of his fingers and pushes, straightening it from the twist I didn’t know it was in. His skin feels like fire against mine.
Fire isn’t good.
Fire is what Hell is made of and an eternity in a cave of fire is where I’m headed if I don’t get out now.
“What’s got you so nervous, Cass?” He utters, oozing all of the confidence in the world. “You a virgin?”
I shrug my shoulder, freeing my strap from his tempting clutches. “Definitely not.”
With his free hand, he snags the hem of my shirt and tugs me close. I squeak as my body bounces against his hard torso and he catches me on the rebound, his firm hand at the small of my back. It steals the air from my lungs—he steals the air from my lungs—from this room. I'm not going to lie, with him here against me Hell seems like a good compromise.
“My dad is waiting in the car downstairs.” The logical part of my brain forces me to blurt out.
Good. My brain needs to wrestle the steering wheel from my vagina and take control of the situation. This has to end before it becomes something I can never take back.
“Don’t tell me that. Now I have to bend you over this table.”
“I’m not that kind of girl.” I state, my brows pulling together.
I am. Fuck. Yes, I am that kind of girl. I’m just trying so hard not to be.
I press a firm hand against his chest and try to push away.
“Deep down every girl is that girl. You just need the right man to awaken her.”
“And you’re the right man? The one who’ll awaken my inner whore?”
Little does he know he’s already awoken her and she’s going stir-crazy, banging her head against concrete walls and running her tin mug up and down the bars of her cell. How am I going to ignore her forever?
I’m pulled from my thoughts as Caleb’s warm hand slips between my legs. I gasp and clamp my thighs shut, trapping his eager fingers an inch away from my wet, pulsing core. Caleb smirks and I remain still as he lowers his forehead to mine.
“You can answer that yourself, after you’ve let me between these thighs.” He utters, his voice a heavy whisper.
God. He’s perfect and manly—like a blond G.I. Joe. I was going to go with Ken initially, but no. He’s not like Ken. The difference? Ken brings cheesy smiles and beautiful flowers. G.I Joe brings beards and orgasms…and fucking thunder.
“I’m a good Catholic girl.” I say, my tone just as quiet—just as heavy—as his.
“No one is saying you’re not.”
Involuntarily, my thigh muscles loosen and his stunning, green eyes dance with victory.
“What’s one little orgasm, hmm? Live a little. You don’t even have to return the favor.”
He slips his hands a little higher, watching me closely for a sign to say I don’t want it. I can’t stop him. I don’t want to stop him.
I surrender.
Tingles pulse in waves, heightening every nerve in my body. They dance up my spine, wrapping themselves around each vertebrae until they reach my hairline at the top of my neck. Already I feel like exploding into a million tiny lights and he hasn’t even touched me there yet. What will it feel like? I can’t recall the feeling of someone else’s hands touching me the way I touch myself. Oh, I bet it feels nice. I bet it feels fucking phenomenal.
Caleb lowers his heavy stare to my lips. “I want to kiss your mouth, Cassia Claire.”
My heart stutters. Cassia Claire. Daughter of Marcus and Melinda Claire. Shit. Panic rises in my chest as Caleb moistens his lips in that sexy way I can’t even begin to describe.
“Wait!” I whisper, planting both my hands on his chest. I lean back, away from his satanic mouth, until my lower spine aches. “We can’t do this. My father could come upstairs at any second.”
He grins, pleased by the thought. “He doesn’t trust me?”
As much as I’d like to point out my father clearly has good reason not to trust Caleb, I don’t. It’s not Caleb my father is wary of. If he catches me like this, that’s it. I don’t know what will happen to me.
“It’s not you he doesn’t trust.” I answer on an exhale, ashamed by the pace of my breathing and the speed in which it’s making my chest rise and fall.
Caleb removes his hand from between my legs and plants it on the small of my back, holding me firmly in place. “What’d you do, Cass?”
I shake my head and the smirk on his lips pulls wide, his irises dancing with indecent excitement.
God help me. Please.
“Did Daddy catch you giving your sacred little pussy to all the boys?”
I bristle, offended. Boys? No, not boys. I gave it to a boy who was kind and trustworthy. A boy who made me feel comfortable and wanted. Our exchange of virginities was respectful and I don’t regret a single time we had sex together.
“A boy.” I state. “Not boys.”
He releases me from his arms and I take a step back. Fresh, sobering air swoops into my lungs, only to be stolen when he snags one of my long, blonde locks and gently wraps it around his finger.
“What a lucky son of a bitch.”
I pinch my lock of hair and pull it free.
“He was very lucky.”
Our gazes connect and my heart pumps erratically, ditching the rhythmic beat all together. Sex with Thomas, the boy from Bismarck, never made my heart race like this. No one has ever made my heart race like this. Lust is one hell of an impulse.
Caleb’s jaw ticks, on and off, his lips pressing into a serious line. What is he thinking? Is he thinking what I’m thinking? Is he fighting against every cell in his body not to throw himself against me?
Relaxing his shoulders, he turns the upper half of his body and reaches for my Bible on the table. I watch closely as he grabs it in his large, strong hands and turns back to me, the Bible outstretched.
A man behind me clears his throat, making me jump. My heart drops into my shoes when I glance over my shoulder and see my father standing there, car keys in his hand. How long has he been standing there? What did he see? What did he hear?
My heart ceases to beat, my organs cease to function, as I watch him, waiting for a reaction. Three seconds, seconds that feel more like minutes, pass and my father smiles.
“How’d she go?” He asks, sending relief crashing through my body.
I take the Bible and look away as heat spreads up my chest, and neck, and pours into my cheeks. Caleb stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and smiles politely. My dad doesn’t see the disappointment in its curl, but I do.
“She’s a natural.”
“Good to hear.” Dad chuckles, pressing a heavy hand to my shoulder. “Are you ready?”
I nod and turn away from Caleb. I can’t bear to look at him a second longer. Does he have any idea what he could have cost me? I could’ve lost everything. It might not matter to him because he has the trust and the support of the Church behind him, but it matters to me.
Wrapping his arm around my shoulder, Dad leads me away, his feet stomping happily along while mine drag.
“See you in church on Sunday, Cassia Claire.”
I glance over my shoulder as Caleb turns his back to us and rakes ten, aggressive fingers through his hair.
What have we started?