39

VANESSA

My fingertips ghost over the delicate lines of the drawing in my lap, in awe of the painstaking detail that went into every stroke of the pencil to create it. It’s a

depiction of me- like every other sketch in this book- and in this one, my eyes are the

main feature, crinkled at the edges, a

giveaway that I’m smiling even though my fists are tucked in front of my mouth to hide it. My hair frames my face in loose waves,

every strand etched with such precision that

you can see the movement in the drawing like it’s captured a moment in time.

Callum is so freaking talented, and something hot burns in my chest every time I look through these drawings, his love poured onto every page. It’s a heady feeling, being his muse. Being the subject of his art, the object of his affection. It’s immense and

overwhelming. Nobody sees me like Callum Conway does.

The sound of a key turning in the lock of his apartment door yanks me out of the trance I’m in, and I jerk my head up, looking

toward the door as Cal lets himself in. He

freezes in the threshold when he sees me seated on his couch, exhaustion and uncertainty written all over his face.

That’s not the only thing on his face. I’m just as taken aback by the sight of him; not because I wasn’t expecting him to return home, but because he’s covered in blood. Crimson lines track down his face, dripping from his saturated hair. His grey t-shirt is splattered and soaked through, and blood coats his tattooed forearms and cakes his knuckles.

“What are you doing here?” Callum asks tentatively, still hovering in the doorway.

I quickly bring myself back from the momentary shock of his appearance,

flipping the sketchbook closed and holding it close to my chest as I rise to my feet.

“Your neighbor let me in with her spare key,” I provide. “She was pretty cranky about it and definitely skeptical that I was your girlfriend. I had to sweet talk her and show her these to prove it.” I hold out the sketchbook to indicate before stooping to slide it onto the surface of the coffee table.

The corner of Cal’s mouth ticks up. “Mrs. Donnelly,” he breathes, his shoulders. sagging as he takes a step inside and swings. the door closed behind him. “She’s a mean old bitch, but she’s a real gem.”

I crack a smile at the accuracy of his description. She had some choice words to describe Cal as well, but despite their barbs, it’s clear that they share affection for one another.

He takes another step further into the apartment, and I suppress a gasp when the light hits him and further illuminates his

macabre appearance.

“Is it done?” I ask quietly, even though the answer to that question is written in red all

over his skin. After Vee filled me in on all the

details of what went down this morning with Troy, I came straight here, knowing I

wanted to be here for Cal when he returned.

Knowing he’d need me.

He nods solemnly, grinding to a halt rather than continuing into the living room to join me. “I… I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he grits out, avoiding eye contact and staring down at his bloody palms.

My bare feet pad against the floo

as I make

my way closer, stepping right up in front of him and reaching up to cup his bloody jaw, ignoring the mess in favor of the man.

underneath it. “You don’t have to hide from

me,” I say gently.

meet mine, the look in them haunted. “I’m a monster,” he rasps, flinching away.

I insist,

allow him to retreat

caress his cheek with my thumb, the sticky blood on his face smearing

am,” he whispers hoarsely. He reaches up to wrap his fingers around my wrist and lifts my hand from his face,

onto my skin.

meet mine again. “If you’re a monster, then you’re my monster,” I say resolutely, pushing

deter me from

kiss.

slip from his body as his lips begin to move against mine, his arms. banding around my waist tightly to anchor me. Or maybe to anchor himself. The kiss

and cautious,

lips. I put all my intention behind it, reassuring him that I’m here. That I love

not going

(3)

stripping himself bare for me, letting me see every part of him- the frayed edges, the jagged, broken pieces, the scars of his past trauma. Above all, though, I see the best parts

talented artist. The

mosaic of good and bad, ugly and beautiful. All of it makes him who he is,

let’s get you in the shower,” I

Callum by the hand and

toward his bedroom.

begins to fill with steam. I undress after him, neither of us saying a word as we step into the shower together and I guide him underneath the stream of water, my fingertips tracing the contours of his body reverently

murmur as I squeeze a glob of

makes the bubbles turn pink as

his scalp with my fingers.

affirmation, his arms winding around my waist

he relaxes into my

to wash out the

“Probably wishes he was right about

a brow. “Meaning?”

smirk creases Cal’s lips, the first real sign of a smile I’ve

“He’s in time-out.”

else’s misery- but I can’t stop the grin from spreading across my face. “The

his fingertips idly tracing circles on the skin of my lower back. “Uh huh. He’ll stay there for three days, under guard,

for

wash onto it. I work it

him,” Cal mutters as I scrub the blood

take them in. Sounds like Spence is gonna

3

can have a shot at building

But we can

stream to rinse it, wringing out the pink- tinged water

up to his. “He threatened you,” he states coldly, the silver of his wolf flashing in his irises. “Nobody gets away with

rate picks up speed as a smile

ur girl

me in roughly, the skin of my chest slapping against his. “You’ve always been

tilts his head to deepen the kiss, my legs get a little wobbly, liquid fire coursing through my veins.

he stares down into my eyes intently. “I love you, Ness,” he rasps, pressing his

the ghosts of the past to bed, and now we can just…

twitch of his hard-on against my belly. We may be dealing

ideas. The persistent thrum between my thighs is getting hard to ignore, and as I slide

to my knees in front

his teeth sinking into his lower lip on a wince as I wrap my hand around his thick cock and give it a slow

trails off into a guttural groan as I slide the head of his dick past my lips, swirling my tongue around the crown before taking him in deeper. His hips jolt forward, his fingers digging into the damp strands of

the man above me come undone as I control his pleasure. I take him in as far as I can, the head of his cock bumping the back of my throat before I slide back, guiding my movements with my hand wrapped firmly around his base. He groans louder as I start moving up and down with a steady rhythm, caressing the underside of his shaft with my tongue as I suck him off.

throat and taking him deeper, slurping and licking and sucking until I feel his thighs begin to

mind is clouded with lust, desire

by the waist roughly, pinning my chest against the shower wall. I slap my palms up against the tile to brace myself while he angles my hips,

he grips my hips tighter and starts to pump in and out, setting a punishing pace and hitting a

my… Callum… oh god,” I babble, his pelvis slapping against my ass with

winding around my front to cup my breasts, squeezing and kneading them roughly as he continues to hammer into

nipples, sending a zing of pleasure straight to

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