Broken Bond by C.J. Primer

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.

in them haunted. “I’m

not,” I insist,

to retreat

with my thumb, the sticky blood on his face smearing beneath it.

fingers around my wrist and lifts my hand from his face, lowering it between us, his eyes transfixed on the blood

my

eyes meet mine again. “If you’re a monster, then you’re my monster,” I say resolutely, pushing up on my tiptoes to brush my lips against his. I taste the metallic

doesn’t deter me from pressing closer, stealing

kiss.

as his lips begin to move against mine, his arms. banding around my waist tightly to

tender and cautious, almost like

within it. I respond by deepening it, sweeping my tongue. against the seam of his lips. I put all my intention behind it,

not going

(3)

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

The talented artist. The

him for all of it, the complicated mosaic of good and bad, ugly and beautiful. All of it makes him who he

get you in the shower,”

hand and tugging him

toward his bedroom.

on me as the room begins to fill with steam. I undress after him, neither of us saying

of shampoo onto my palm,

turn

it up, massaging his scalp with my

in affirmation, his arms winding around my waist and his eyes slipping

he relaxes

wash out the shampoo. “Is he dead?” I ask cautiously, rinsing the pink suds from his strands.

he was right about now, though. Chase let me get a little… creative with his

arch a

real sign of a smile I’ve seen

“He’s in time-out.” 9.

but I can’t stop the

lower back. “Uh huh. He’ll stay there for three days, under guard, and then he’ll be exiled from

pack for his transgressions.”

better than he deserves,” I mumble, picking up a washcloth and squeezing body wash onto it. I work it into a lather, then go to work soaping up his skin.

him,” Cal mutters as I scrub

will take them in.

3

have a shot at building a relationship,” I suggest.

we can coexist.”

it, wringing out the pink- tinged water to splash at our feet. “So if Troy’s locked away… why all

tipping my face up to his. “He threatened you,” he states coldly, the silver of his wolf flashing in his irises. “Nobody

up speed as a smile creeps

ur girl

the skin of my chest slapping against his. “You’ve always been my girl.” His lips crash down onto mine, his

lips glide together, my tongue chasing his, and when he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, my legs

pop, pinning me against him as he stares down into my eyes intently. “I love you, Ness,” he rasps, pressing his forehead to mine and squeezing

with him. We’ve finally put the ghosts of the past to bed, and now we

closer, drawing a short gasp when I feel the twitch

but our slick, naked bodies obviously have other ideas. The persistent thrum between my thighs is getting hard to ignore, and as I slide my palms down the

to my knees in front of

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

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

one on my knees, there’s something powerful in this position, watching 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

as his hips pump in steady thrusts, perfectly in sync. with the bob of my head. The way he starts to unravel only boosts my enthusiasm – I start to move faster, relaxing my throat and taking him deeper, slurping and licking and sucking until I feel his thighs begin to tremble. He’s right

is clouded with

wall. I slap my palms up against the tile to brace myself while he angles my hips,

my hips tighter and starts to pump in and out, setting a punishing pace and hitting a spot deep inside that has me seeing stars.

oh god,” I babble, his

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

zing of pleasure straight