Wild Side (Dark Side Series: Book 2)

Twenty

The door banged shut. Light shrunk into a thin seam at our feet, mirrored by a dusky glow against the room's pale curtains. Never had the darkness felt so inviting-or more urgent.

We needed this. We needed each other. There wasn't anything gentle or wholesome about the way he kissed me, nor did I want there to be. Neither of us had any intention of moving slow and sweet. We didn't have time for fifty shades of antics. What we had was raw, unbridled energy that had for months on end been relegated to dreams, lingering glances and stray thoughts. With every kiss imagination finally became reality. Caelan's mouth pressed against mine, and as he reeled me in everything I wanted was right at my fingertips ...or would be soon enough. My nails coursed down his back, catching fabric at his hip to lift. But in the race to take off clothes he worked just faster than me, hands searching my back for the metal tag of a zipper. There was a soft tug, and then a gentle release of fabric against my shoulders to accompany his satisfied sigh.

My skin hit the room's cool air. I started to tug the dress down further when he bent slightly, wrapped his arms around me tight and lifted me against the door. He pulled me slightly sideways, quick to return to my mouth.

"What are you-?"

"I want to see you," he murmured against my lips. With a fumbling slap his hand located the switch.

Yellowed light flipped on and illuminated a dainty figure perched on the corner of the bed.

Caelan's grip on my waist tightened as he jumped. "Jesus Christ!" he hissed, and promptly dropped me on the floor. At about the same time, I dug my nails into the back of his neck and stumbled to my feet swearing like a sailor as we lost balance together and banged into the dresser. I yanked my dress back into place and saw in the room's grungy mirror that I was about as flushed as I was startled.

"Mrs. Finn," Caelan groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. "What the hell?"

Calico cupped her knee with pink fingernails. The woman was bundled in a slim leather jacket and black skinny jeans. A short ankle boot dangled idly off her crossed foot. "You called me, dummy," she purred, natural curls bouncing in the spirit of her innocuous smile. "If I'd known we were knocking boots I'd have put on a nicer pair."

Embarrassment had me swallowing my tongue. I coughed it up now to echo Caelan's question. My heart was still racing a mile a minute; my hands shook with unreleased tension; this strange feeling, almost a pleasant anxiety, squeezed my chest. My body craved the handsome man beside me. When I accidentally-on-purpose glanced down at what had almost been mine, my train of thought completely derailed. I couldn't think of anything else, couldn't even pull my zipper back up straight.

While I was trying to course correct, Calico's eyes flicked onto my attire. "Marcy, hun, a good dress is one a man wants to see on the floor," she said, eying the thrift shop apparel disdainfully, "Not burned in a dumpster fire."

Caelan popped the door and gestured sharply for her to walk through. "Get out."

I waved him off, trying to hop my zipper back into place. It was stuck in that weird spot between my shoulder blades where I couldn't quite grab it from above or below. "No, no, it's fine. The moment's ruined."

"Is it?" Caelan asked through a salty huff. Nevertheless, he shut the door and with a polite touch tugged the zipper the last two inches into place. The wolfish hunger in his eyes dimmed to annoyance, which he was quick to turn on Calico. "How long were you planning on sitting there before you said something?" he snapped.

The woman's white canines disappeared in a fake pout. "What's the matter, sheriff? Senses get a little dull during your vacation, or are the wrong ones heightened?"