Breathless Descent

Shay tried to open her door, her normally steady hand shook with the effort. Caleb said something behind her, but she couldn’t focus for the thunder of her heart in her chest, radiating into her ears. Couldn’t think for the musky, male scent so uniquely Caleb, lifting in the humid, night air and thickening. To say that she was terrified she might be making the wrong choice by acting on her desire for Caleb was an understatement. She was scared to say yes to tonight with Caleb, and scared to say no.

“I locked the door,” Caleb said and reached around her, his powerful body enclosing hers, and with a quick swipe of a credit card, he popped the lock. Helplessly, she accepted the aid, and fought the urge to lean back on him. That leaning on him felt safe, said a lot. Her parents had taught her to be strong and independent, to lean on those you trust, and be picky about who was inside that circle. Caleb was in that circle. No other man ever had been. He’d seen her strong, seen her weak. Heck, he’d tended to her annual stomach flu, when she’d been death-warmed-over.

Caleb’s lips brushed her neck, and she realized she was doing more than thinking about leaning on him. She was leaning on him, her body resting against his bigger, harder one. He’d known she needed a minute, known not to push her.

Shay felt her knees wobble, and she turned the doorknob and darted forward, nerves working a number on her. Awkward without her purse she normally dropped it on the hall table, she pressed her hand to her face. She’d wanted this – wanted Caleb – for so long. Even when she’d denied wanting him, she realized now, she had, indeed, wanted him. She’d spent so much time feeling guilty for that desire, for driving him away, that this, here, now, felt somehow wrong. Like a bad deed that would be punished.

Shay swung around to face Caleb, finding him close, within reach—tall and broad and gorgeous, she almost forgot what she’d intended to say. He reached for her. Somehow, she retained some logic and stepped backwards. If he touched her, she’d forget everything but him. She’d forget that talk they’d never had. They had to have that talk. “What if we regret this?”

He laced the fingers of one of his hands with hers. “What if we don’t?”