“It’s the truth.” He kissed her, taking her mouth like he’d wanted to since she walked through the door. She melted against him, and he backed her up to the counter, taking the kiss deeper yet. He knew he should back off, should let them go back to the domestic scene he’d been enjoying so much, but his head was full of too many things he couldn’t say. Not yet. Not without potentially scaring the shit out of Callie.
But he could show her.
“Do you think the pizza can wait awhile?”
“I think we can work something out.” She unbuttoned his shirt with quick movements, and slid it off his shoulders. Then she froze. “Oh, Teague.”
He didn’t have to look down to know what she saw—a rainbow of bruises up his side that were a match for the one on his face. “It looks worse than it is.”
“Don’t lie to me.” She traced a finger over the edge of the one covering his ribs, still an ugly purple. “This is why I wanted to wait. I couldn’t stand it if I hurt you.”
His heart gave a painful lurch, and he covered her hand with his own. “I’m not broken—just a little banged up.”
“Still—”
He kissed her again to stop her words. She didn’t want to hurt him. Well, he’d make damn sure she didn’t get the chance to worry about it. “Hands on the counter.” She obeyed with a little hiss of relief, the positioning leaving her body open for him, an opportunity he had no intention of wasting. He cupped her breasts, playing with her nipples through the thin fabric, and then slipped a hand up her skirt, and groaned. “No panties, angel?”
“You already know the answer to that.” Her lips brushed his with every word.
“The thought of you walking around Boston with only this sad excuse for a dress in between you and the rest of the world makes me crazy.” He pushed a finger into her, finding her wetter than he could have dreamed.
She spread her legs a bit wider. “My dress is cute.”
“Cute doesn’t begin to cover it.” He used his free hand to tug the strap off first one shoulder and then the other. It fell to her waist, leaving her breasts bare for him. He kept fucking her with his finger, and added a second. “But if we’d met outside this apartment, I would have been sorely tempted to do exactly what I’m doing right now, and to hell with the consequences. Keep your hands there.”
Her knuckles went white as she gripped the edge of the counter, even as her hips rolled to take him deeper. “You’d touch me like this out in public?”
“Angel, I’d drag you to the nearest private spot and bury myself inside you the first chance I got.” He circled her clit with his thumb, twisting his wrist to flick his fingertips over that sensitive spot he’d found inside her.
Her eyes went wide. “Teague, I—”
“I know. Let go. I’ve got you.” He kissed her as she came apart around him, her moans the sweetest thing he’d ever heard. He held her through the aftershocks, gentling his strokes until her knees buckled. Teague caught her easily, ignoring the twinge of his bruises as he lifted her into his arms.
“Put me down. You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“You’re going to give me a complex.” He walked down the hall to his bedroom and carefully set her on the bed. Her smile was a balm to his soul, and the fact that she lay back without trying to cover herself only made him hotter. She was damn near perfect, and she knew it.
He sat on the edge of the bed and had to fight back a wince. He thought he’d covered it up in time, but she saw. “Your ribs?”
“They’re still tender.” He wasn’t about to tell her that they hurt like a fucking bitch more often than not. Not with what he had in mind for tonight.
For a second she looked like she might protest again, but Callie sat up. “Well, then, I suppose we’ll have to go about this another way.” She kissed him gently and then gave his shoulders a push. “I promise not to jar them too much.”
Teague laughed. “So I should just lie back and think of England.”
“I think that’s for the best.” Her grin was downright impish. “We all do what we have to do.”
He lay down, pulling her on top of him. She settled over his hips, sliding against