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Authors: Sarah McCarty

BOOK: Caleb
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His
fingertips skated down her throat, spreading over the top of her shoulder. His
thumb pressed against the pulse in her neck. “I know who you are, Allie. I’ve
known since the first instant I saw you, when my vampire perked up.”

A little
of her willingness to believe slipped. “So it’s your vampire who wants me?”

“Definitely,
with my human side riding a hard double.”

She
hated the way he insisted there were two parts of him, and that the two didn’t
work in harmony. “They’re one and the same, Caleb.”

“Hardly.”

For
such a smart man, he could be so blind. She’d point it out to him if she wasn’t
having a contrary moment. One that didn’t want to fight with him. “I’m still a
burden.”

“I
hate to break this to you, baby, and I’m truly running the risk of you accusing
me of going eighteen sixties again, but I like that you need me. That you
depend on me. I like having a wife to take care of, someone of my own.” His
thumb rubbed her lips as he whispered against her cheek. “I like having you in
my home, in my kitchen, and definitely in my bed.”

All
very normal things for a man who couldn’t have normal anymore. “Caveman.”

He
smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. “Maybe, but it’s who I am.”

He
was wrong. He was so much more than that. But he wasn’t responsible for her or
her feelings, even if her breakdown had given him that impression. She scooted
to the edge of her chair, spreading her thighs on either side of his, and
rested her thumb over the tight corner of his mouth where his guilt wedged a
constant tension. Guilt for converting her, and guilt for not being able to fix
things for her once she had been converted. Guilt that she hated, because it
was so senseless. He might believe he was the be-all and end-all of everything
that happened to her, but she believed in a higher power and the workings of
fate. Besides, she didn’t want him feeling responsible for her. At least not
that way.

Caleb
tugged her off the chair to stand over his hard thighs. She blew her bangs off
her forehead. Darn, could a relationship be any more complicated? “That still
doesn’t change the fact that I need to have a job, Caleb.”

“Just
give it time. You’ll find your place.”

He
sounded a lot more confident than any man had a right to be. She flattened her
palms on his shoulders and braced her arms as he widened his legs and caught
her other hand in his. “Don’t make me claw you.”

The
smile that grew as he kept pulling her between those strong thighs told her he
didn’t care. “I like your claws.”

“I
want answers, Caleb, not sex.”

“Are
you absolutely positive?” He slid his hands around her waist, his touch burning
through the thin cotton of her T-shirt, arching her spine so her unconfined
breasts swayed within inches of his face. She would have slapped him for taking
her concerns so lightly except, this close, she could see that he wasn’t. He
was doing the best he could, relying on distraction because he really didn’t
know what was going on with her any more than she knew. However, eventually
he’d have to understand that she was fine with him just admitting that. She
caught his hand before it could slip down her hip, and replaced it on her
waist. “You can’t keep doing this.”

The
announcement drew his gaze up from her breasts. “What?”

“This
whole chauvinistic, macho, protect-the-little-brainless-female routine you’ve
been indulging in for the last week.”

His
fingers skated up her back and then down again, cruising the edge of her
vertebrae, dual lines of temptation that hooked the corner of her interest.
“Why not?”

“Because
it’s not eighteen sixty anymore.”

He
didn’t respond immediately, just re-angled those fingers after arriving at the
sensitive hollow at the base of her spine. Her skin prickled as it absorbed his
intent. Her back arched ever so subtly, eager for the culmination of the
journey, even if her mind was operating on a more intellectual plane.

“What
if I said I’m only doing it because I know you’re worried, and I can’t think of
any other way to get your mind redirected?”

She
sucked in a breath as he accepted the invite, tracing the swell of her
buttocks. Goose bumps immediately heralded the pleasure. His knowing smile, and
the gold flecks in the depths of his darkened eyes, told her she wasn’t alone
in the rising tide of desire. “I’d say that was honest and you’re very sweet, albeit
misguided.”

“I
told you before, I’m not sweet.”

If
his fingers trailing over the curve of her butt were enticing, they were
nothing compared to the shivery allure of their glide down the insides of her
thighs. The man had more magic in his fingers than that rabbit toy, featured so
prominently on
Sex in the City
. And that was saying something. “Yes, you
are.”

As a
statement, it was way too breathy and airy to be convincing, so she wasn’t
surprised when Caleb ignored it. In an effortless move that thrilled her to the
bottom of her feminine soul, he lifted her off her feet. Allie grabbed his
shoulders so tightly she was in danger of clawing him. A squeeze on her right
buttock had her lifting her thigh over his. A squeeze on the left had her
repeating the move with the other. With that same easy strength, he brought her
down on his lap, thighs straddling his, her most sensitive flesh cuddling the
hardness of his. The heat of his body was such that the two layers of denim
might not have existed. Her pulse took off under the whip of pleasure. So did
his. It throbbed just inches away beneath the deep tan of his skin. The beat of
his heart pounded in her ears in a seductive invitation. Her hunger rose. She
pushed it back, staring at his throat. His tanned throat.

“How
come you’re not pasty white?” The question was more of a distraction for
herself than a real seeking of knowledge.

“Because
I choose not to be.”

Now
that was interesting. “You mean I can sprout a tan, too?”

“Probably.”

It
didn’t take a genius to figure out what put the hesitation in his voice. She
hadn’t proven herself to be overly adept at learning vampire skills, but how
hard could tanning herself be? “I think I’ll give tanning a shot. Whatever goes
wrong can’t be worse than the orange I painted myself with self-tanners.”

“You
painted yourself orange?”

From
his expression she could tell he couldn’t picture it. “Not on purpose.”

“Glad
to hear it. But just in case this goes the way of the rest of your efforts,
hold off on trying to tan yourself until I’m around.”

He
didn’t have to be so skeptical. With the heels of her hands, she shoved him.
“Don’t you have to go puke or something?”

The
only thing her shove dislodged was a frown. “Who told you about that?”

“Slade.”

He
sighed and resumed his stroking. “I’ll have to talk to him about spilling
secrets.”

“Why
is it a secret? Do you have a problem with it?”

“Nope.”
His hand glided back up her spine. His laugh, as deep and as sexy as always,
brushed past her ear. “It’s just not a spectator sport.” A shiver traveled from
the top of her head to the tip of her toes. God, he was too damn sexy.

“Why
do you do it?”

He
shrugged. “Because I like the taste of food even if it doesn’t agree with me
anymore.”

“And
there’s nothing more to it than that?”

“Not
a thing.”

She
didn’t believe him. Slade was right. Caleb ate food for the same reason she
cooked on that stupid stove. It made her feel connected to what she’d lost. It
made her feel normal.

“Now
that I’ve told you my secret,” Caleb whispered in that deep drawl of his that
was seduction itself, “why don’t you tell me yours?”

“I
don’t have any secrets.”

The
stillness of his body should have been a warning, but she was so focused on the
sparks of desire dancing in the wake of his touch, she never saw it coming.

“Tell
me about the dream.”

She
dropped her head back into the cradle of his palm. He’d been distracting her
all right, but not for sex. “Oh, you’re good.”

“Thank
you.” Beneath the lingering amusement in his gaze, there was an unmistakable
seriousness.

She touched
the indentation of his smile. “I suppose Slade put you up to this?”

“He’s
not pleased with you right now. He wants to run those tests.”

She
trailed her finger down over his chin to his neck, tracing the strong tendons
under the collar of his shirt to the ridge of his collarbone. She didn’t
particularly care what Slade wanted.
She
did not want to be poked and
prodded and maybe found deficient. “Which concerns me, how?”

He
stared at her sternly. “His displeasure is mine.”

She
shook her head. Who did he think he was fooling, with that intimidation thingy?
“I’m shaking in my shoes.”

His
hand shaped to the curve of her ribs. “If you’re not careful, you’re going to
get that cute little ass paddled.”

Only
Caleb would describe her ass as cute. She kissed his chin, wiggling her rear on
his thighs. “Promises, promises.”

Beneath
her, his muscles clenched along with the tightness of his grasp. The smile she
loved mellowed his drawl. “You are a wild woman.”

Other
areas of their relationship might keep her up nights, but not this one. The sex
between them was good. Very good. “You like it.”

“I
do, but it doesn’t mean I won’t take you in hand if you need it.”

She
rolled her eyes. “That is so archaic.”

His
fingers caught her chin and brought her gaze to his. “I’m not one of your
modern men, Allie. I protect what’s mine. However I have to.”

She
jerked her chin. Caleb didn’t let her go. She knocked his hand away. She didn’t
need his support. Annoyance worked just fine. “How? By spanking me?”

“If
necessary.”

Good
God, he meant it! “And when that doesn’t work, what’s plan B? Locking me in the
tower with no food and water?”

“What
makes you think it won’t work?”

She
grabbed his wrist, letting him into her mind, letting him see her reaction to
just the thought. “Just a hunch.”

His
gaze sharpened to that razor intensity she felt deep inside. She let him read
to his heart’s content.

His
grip tightened, then softened as he backed off mentally. “You are one damn
stubborn woman, Allie Johnson.”

She
ignored the long-suffering sigh that punctuated the statement. “You like that,
too.”

His
lips quirked. “Sometimes.”

She
shrugged, relaxing her own grip. “And it’s Allie Sanders.”

His
body tightened in that way that was at once sexy and intimidating. “Like hell
it is.”

This
probably wasn’t the time to bring it up, but since the door had been opened,
there was something Caleb needed to understand, and sooner was better than
later. “I do not consider a blood exchange as binding as marriage vows.”

The
squaring of his shoulders and the set of his chin spoke volumes. “We’re
married.”

“No.”
She shook her head. “We’re not. You’re handsome, sexy, and you’ve got the
best-tasting blood around, but I personally do not regard those as sound
qualities around which to build a marriage.”

“Then
you’d better find something you do like and hold tight, baby, because you’re
well and truly hitched.”

She
sat up straighter. “We’re not married until I consider us married. And I
don’t.”

He
pulled her in until her groin mated to his. He was aroused, angry, and
determined, and her body reacted with an ecstatic, hopeful pulse. “Would you
like me to prove it?”

She
dismissed the reaction of her body with a wave of her hand. “That’s just sex.”

He
pressed her hips down over his, drawing a moan past her lips. He felt so good.
“This sexy little body reacts to me, and me alone.”

“All
that means is we’re compatible in bed.”

“In
my day, two people who’d exercised that compatibility to the level we have were
married.”

She
patted his cheek, feeling his frustration. “But your day has come and gone.
Times have changed and women with it.”

“Not
that much.”

“Oh
yeah, that much.”

His
thumbnail sliced through the crotch of her jeans, the talon retracting as he
slid his thumb into the wet folds pressed against him—rubbing, searching—until
she gasped and jerked above him. “I disagree.”

“I
repeat—this is just sex, mindless chemistry.”

But
he was right. It did have uses. He was no longer hassling her about her dreams
and Slade’s experiments.

Caleb
shook his head, his green eyes locked with hers, challenging her with the truth
he obviously believed inviolate. She studied him more closely, remembering that
fear she’d sensed in him. Maybe a truth he even needed to believe was
inviolate.

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