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.

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

insist, moving with

to allow him to

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

and lifts my hand from his face, lowering

my

other hand to his chest, right over his heart. It thumps beneath my palm as his eyes meet mine again. “If you’re a monster, then you’re my monster,” I say resolutely,

deter me from

kiss.

begin to move against mine, his arms. banding

tender and cautious, almost like

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

going anywhere.

(3)

his eyes, the soul- shattering vulnerability in his gaze nearly brings me to my knees. It’s like he’s 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

all of it, the complicated mosaic of good and bad, ugly and beautiful. All of it makes him who he is, and I wouldn’t want him any other

let’s get you in

the hand and

toward his bedroom.

and falls with heavy breaths, his gaze intently focused on me as the room begins to fill with steam. I undress after

made it hurt,” I murmur as I squeeze a glob of shampoo onto my palm, reaching up to scrub it into his

makes the bubbles turn pink

massaging his scalp

affirmation, his arms winding around my waist

he relaxes

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

his blue-green gaze colliding with mine. “Probably wishes he was right about now, though. Chase let

arch a

first real sign of a smile I’ve seen from him since

“He’s in

misery- but I can’t stop the grin from

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

pack for his

up a washcloth and squeezing body wash onto it. I work it into a lather, then go to work soaping

Cal mutters as I scrub the blood from behind his ears.

her old pack will take them in. Sounds like Spence is

3

a shot at building a relationship,” I suggest.

But we can coexist.”

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

you,” he states coldly, the

a smile creeps across my lips. “So I’m again?”

ur girl

chest slapping against his. “You’ve always been

lips glide together, my tongue chasing his, and when he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, my legs get a little wobbly, liquid fire coursing through my

pop, pinning me against him as he stares down into my eyes intently. “I love you,

love you too,” I breathe, soaking up the importance of this moment with him. We’ve finally put the ghosts of the past to bed, and now we can just… be. We

a short gasp when I feel the twitch of his hard-on against my belly. We may be dealing with some

heavy emotional stuff right now, 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 hard planes of his chest, something

descent, dropping to my knees in

lower lip on a wince

voice 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

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

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

mind is clouded with lust, desire

my palms up against the tile to brace myself while he

quickly giving way to mind-numbing pleasure as he grips my hips tighter and starts to pump in and out, setting a punishing pace and hitting a spot deep inside

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

His hands slide up my waist, winding around my front to cup my breasts, squeezing and kneading them roughly as he continues to hammer into me. I hiss in a breath through my

sending a zing of