Hunger for You (Shadow Shifters: Damaged Hearts) (9 page)

He’d spooned himself against my back, his hand moving from my shoulder to around my waist where it rested on top of my own.

“I swore I’d never be in that place, never be with a guy that would abuse me.” I heard my voice, listened to the admissions I was making and couldn’t believe it. Why was I telling him all this?

“And you’re not in that place. You are no longer with that … that guy.”

Caleb’s hesitation had me smiling fleetingly. I didn’t want to consider Dex a guy either, more like an asshole. I put my hand over Caleb’s and let the warmth of his closeness lull me.

“Thank you for being there and for being so understanding even when I was acting like such a bitch toward you,” I told him honestly. “Maybe if I’d listened to you sooner it wouldn’t have come to this.”

“Then you wouldn’t be here with me now,” was his reply. “I wouldn’t be able to hold you close and promise to keep you safe. I wouldn’t be able to do this.”

His lips were warm against my ear, his tongue damp as it traced a line along my lobe. Desire was like a switch inside me and Caleb had his hand firmly on it, making me want him with the simplest of motions. No, kissing my ear didn’t seem that simple but that wasn’t the only thing he’d done to make me want him, almost need him, I’d venture to admit to myself.

I leaned back into his embrace, closed my eyes with the wonderful sensations of his tongue against my skin. Warmth escalated to full-blown heat as he pressed into me and all I could do was sigh.

“I don’t know why but I’ve been drawn to you from the first day I saw you,” he whispered between kisses.

His words drifted in the darkness of the room, falling to wrap around me as securely as his arms were. To hear him say what I’d been feeling for weeks was a relief that I wasn’t in this alone, at least not on the attraction end.

“Mmm, I don’t know why either, but I looked for you each night I came in to work,” I said since it seemed like tonight was for true confessions.

“You did?”

He seemed surprised and the kissing stopped so I opened my eyes. Rolling onto my back I looked up into Caleb’s eyes. Of course it was dark and really the only thing I could manage to see was the outline of his body leaning over mine, but there was something else. There was a spark of light, a glimmer of something golden. I blinked, believing I’d finally romanticized this moment enough that I was seeing things. With my eyes fully open again I reached up to touch his cheek.

My heart hammered in my chest and a small voice way in the back of my mind warned me not to say what I was thinking, not to put myself out there with this guy in this way. I didn’t listen. I couldn’t.

“I looked for you, Caleb. Every night I wanted to see you, even if I didn’t wait on your table and we didn’t speak, I still wanted to see you.”

“Why?”

Gone was the contained anger, the blatant candor of his voice, and now there was only this questioning and disbelief. Caleb was a great-looking guy, from his chiseled face and brooding dark looks to his perfect body and unruly hair. No way he didn’t believe that I’d wanted him; girls probably wanted him everywhere he went.

“Because you’re different,” I admitted, emotion clogging my throat so that I had to stop and swallow. “I don’t know how I knew from the start or in what ways exactly, I just know and I guess you could say I’m intrigued. I know that it was probably wrong to want you when I was with someone else, but I did. I mean, I do.”

Tears filled my eyes once more and I tried to figure out why. I wasn’t thinking of anything sad, wasn’t recalling what had happened with Dex. I was feeling a storm of sensations, venturing into unchartered waters and I was both anxious and afraid.

“You have no idea,” were his final words before his lips came crashing down over mine, taking me for a glorious ride of intense desire, barely restrained passion, pure and simple lust that had me panting in his arms.

This was wrong on so many levels, warning bells sounded loudly in my ears. I ignored them all and focused only on what I wanted, what I needed more than air itself.

I’d touched her hair, her face, her ears, her neck, but hadn’t touched anything else and the need burned deep inside me. So deep the cat stretched, chuffing inside impatiently. With as much gentleness as I could muster I moved so that one of my legs was between hers and my body was flush on top of her. Propping myself up on my elbows to keep from completely crushing her, I took the kiss deeper, loving the feel of her tongue brushing against mine, the hunger that was obviously inside her as well. Her hands were flat on my back, moving up and down, leaving paths of heat in their wake.

Out of breath and struggling for calm I pulled my lips away from hers, the task much harder than anything I’d ever done in my life. Her little gasp and the way her fingers clenched, grabbing my shirt, said she didn’t want me to leave any more than I wanted to. But I needed something else. With trembling fingers—they’d never done that before—I touched his fingerprints on her neck.

I had night vision, courtesy of my shifter heritage. I could see those prints as plainly as if all the lights in this room were on. A little growl rumbled in my chest. She turned her head so that she wasn’t looking at me, wasn’t watching me remember what he’d done to her. She thought I blamed her, but she was wrong. There was only one person here to blame, one bastard that would never get the opportunity to put his hands on her again.

Leaning forward I kissed each mark, lips closed, barely brushing over the softest skin I’d ever felt. My hands moved down, pushing the thin straps of the tank top she wore over her shoulders. I’d touched and I’d had a little taste and it wasn’t enough. Would anything where Zoe was concerned ever be enough?

I swear I wanted it to end, this deep pressing desire that had hung over me since the first day I saw her. It was like a plague, like a demon, chasing me with the intention of running me completely down to the ground. I felt it right between my
shoulder blades even as I pushed the top of the tank top down and over her breasts. Tight nipples stared up at me as if they’d been waiting for me all their life. I blinked, tried to refocus but all that did was push the cat closer to the brink. I held my hand back, praying for no sharp claws. I wanted to touch her again, to hold those breasts in the palm of my hand. Instead I lowered my head once more and touched my tongue to her nipple. She hissed and arched her back. I continued, feeling the warmth of her skin against my tongue, loving the sweet taste of her, the sound of her, the scent that was all Zoe.

Her shirt had to go. The ripping sound echoed through the room. Before the material could totally escape my fingers I was onto the boxer shorts she’d put on that made her look entirely too sexy. She lifted her hips and I pushed them down. She was naked, her body like shimmering gold as she lay against the dark sheets on my bed.

“Caleb.” She said my name so softly I almost missed it.

I lifted my head to look at her, praying whatever she saw wouldn’t frighten her away.

Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she licked her lips. My heart constricted while my mouth watered. The cat inside roared, ready to stake its claim, while the man wasn’t sure of the next step, wasn’t sure there would be any turning back after he leapt.

“I want this,” she said quickly. “With you, I mean. I want this with you.”

And damn did I want this with her. Only I wasn’t totally sure what “this” was. It could be so many things, all of which would most likely not end well. I should fight this, I had been fighting it. But hell if I could any longer with her looking up at me the way she was, her soft body shifting ever so slightly beneath mine.

“I want this with you,” I replied and pulled my shirt over my head quickly.

When I was completely naked I was over her once more. She lifted her hands, planted her palms against my chest. I couldn’t help it, a growl rumbled in my chest with the heat of her touch. The cat wanted to pounce, to take, while the man wanted to possess.

“Condom,” she said.

I nodded and reached over to my nightstand to retrieve the box of condoms that had never been opened. Shifters didn’t need to practice safe sex, their complex DNA made them immune to most human diseases, sexually transmitted ones being at the top of the list. But part of me was human and so I’d purchased them on the off chance that in this one area my human side would prevail.

She shocked me by sitting up on the bed and reaching for the foil packet I held in my hand. I tore off the top and handed the open packet to her. She took it out and reached for me. My eyes closed and everything around me tilted. I felt dizzy, then, ensconced in heat as she rubbed the latex over my cock. Her fingers were gentle as her thumb rubbed the now-covered tip in exploration. She held me, both hands wrapped around my length, for endless seconds, looking at what she held as if it were the most cherished thing in her world.

My muscles tensed, my temples throbbing as I struggled for control, struggled to hold onto at least a modicum of dignity and refrained from releasing into her hands. The hands that eventually moved up, pressing against the tip of my dick, then down again to the base, once, no twice. On the third round I wanted to roar loud enough to break all the windows in the apartment. I wanted to lift her legs up onto my shoulders and pound into her until the confusion about getting involved with a human, about whether I was a shifter or a human myself, about the rogue that I wanted desperately to kill, was buried deep inside of her.

Instead, I managed a deep, steadying breath. I pushed her back on the bed, being more gentle with her than I’d ever imagined I could be. I did spread her legs wider then, in slow, deliberate motions. I wanted to see her, really see her this
time. Her eyes were open wide, glazed with desire as she looked up at me. Her breasts high, pert, and lickable. Running my hands up and down her inner thighs I inhaled deeply, letting the scent of her essence invade my senses.

“You’re beautiful,” I told her. I wanted her to know this above anything else that she might know. “Absolutely beautiful,” I continued.

She trembled beneath me, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. My dick grew harder, teeth clenching tighter.

“Open for me,” I asked, all the while pushing her legs up until the soles of her feet rested on the bed.

When her legs once again fell to the side and I watched her, wanting her, needing her more than I needed to breathe, I knew I was in big trouble.

The moment I cradled the head of my cock against her dripping entrance she whispered my name. It fell like a drape over me and I shivered. Not totally pleased with that action I pressed lightly, stretching her to accommodate me, needing her to accept me, to accept all that was me.

My eyes closed of their own accord as I sank deeper inside of her, loving the constriction, the moistness, the total abandonment that flanked me. She’d stilled for a second and I followed suit, clenching my teeth as I waited, as we waited. When she said my name again, I opened my eyes to see her arms
outstretched. Whatever I’d been before, however I’d felt about connections or entanglements or sex that was more than just sex, all of it dissipated as I leaned forward, going into her arms as her legs lifted, wrapping securely around my waist.

I was drowning, I knew it. My head was so deep under water I shouldn’t have been able to breathe. But I could and I could pump, in and out of her until she too was breathless.

With her arms wrapped tightly around my neck Zoe whispered into my ear, “I never wanted to with him. Only with you.”

“Only with you,” I replied without any thought at all. “Only you.”

When my release finally took over I wanted to roar, loud and long, to claim her and to keep her.

“What’s your last name?”

He chuckled.

“Is that a funny question?”

“It is when it’s the first thing you ask after finishing what we just finished,” he said.

His fingers were in my hair. I think he liked to rub along my scalp then pull his hands away until the strands ended, only to start the routine all over again. It was soothing because his touch was so light. My cheek was pressed against his chest, his heartbeat an echo in one of my ears.

“Well, after what we just did I think it makes sense that I know your last name. I probably should have known before we did what we did, but there it is.” I felt comfortable enough to joke with him. Actually I felt all floaty like the heroines said in
romance books. The pain and soreness my body experienced a little more than six hours ago had vanished and was replaced by a lovely haze of delight. I was smiling against his chest as I thought.

“My name is Caleb Sanchez,” he offered finally.

“And where are you from?”

There was a pause.

“Where’s your family from?”

Another pause.

My fingers flattened on his chest, my cheesy grin slipping slightly. “Either my questions are too hard for you to answer or you really don’t like after-sex chitchat.” I laughed lightly after speaking but a pinch of worry began at the base of my spine. I moved slightly, pressing my body closer to his and hopefully dispelling it before it could spread.

“I was born in Brazil but I’ve never called any one place home. My parents are dead.”

And that was it. He didn’t verbalize that, but the implication hung in the air.

“So you speak Spanish?” was my next question. There was so much I wanted to know about him, so much I wanted to experience with him, but I got the impression taking baby steps would be more successful than the immediate barrage I was used to.

“Portuguese,” he replied.

I nodded. “I think other languages are sexy even though I never learned one.”

“Your school did not teach you another language?”

It was my turn to be quiet, my turn to resist telling him something about my past. “I didn’t go to school a lot during my high school years. My brother and sister needed me to take care of them and my mother, well, she needed someone period. Besides, I never really felt like I belonged there. Those students had much better home lives than I did. I envied what they had and despised what I didn’t, which made it almost impossible to walk up and down the halls with them day after day. So I didn’t. I wrote a note that I was being homeschooled and studied on my own for the last two years, then I took the GED exam and passed. Now I’m working at the bar, saving my tips so I can pay for at least two semesters at the community college up front.”