Page 46 of Wild Devotion
“I need to go home.”
“Then I’ll walk you.”
“Caleb—”
“I’m walking you home,” he said. And I didn’t have it in me to argue.
We covered the five blocks in silence. My arms were wrapped around myself, tears blurring the streetlights into fuzzy halos. He kept pace beside me, close but not touching, his hands shoved into his pockets like he was physically restraining himself from reaching for me.
My stomach sank when I saw Chantel’s car wasn’t in the driveway. Caleb and I would be alone together, nothing but our bedroom doors separating us.
At the front door, my hands shook so badly I couldn’t get the key into the lock. He didn’t wait. He reached around me, turned the knob, and pushed it open.
Damn Chantel for leaving it unlocked again.
I went straight inside without looking back. But I barely made it two steps before his hand closed around my wrist.
He turned me to face him, the door swinging shut behind us, and suddenly I was pinned against it with Caleb filling every inch of space in front of me.
“Don’t run from me.” It was the most demanding thing he’d ever said.
And somehow, despite feeling trapped, despite being capable of nothing more than a stare, I was more turned on than ever.
His eyes locked on mine, his hand still gripping my wrist. “Was it the kiss?”
“No.”
“Then tell me what’s wrong. Because five minutes ago you were kissing me back, and now you’re crying and running, and I’m not leaving this spot until I understand why.”
My chest heaved, hot tears streaking down my face.
His free hand came up to my face, his thumb dragging the tears from my cheek. The gentleness of the touch against the steel in his voice nearly broke me in half.
“It’s not you,” I managed. “It was never you.”
He stood there, barely a foot away, his chest rising and falling, his eyes searching mine for something I wasn’t sure I could give him.
And then his hands were in my hair, his body pressing me back against the door, and his mouth was on mine. Not soft this time. Not tentative. This kiss was urgent, consuming, and I kissed him back with everything I had because I was so fucking tired of fighting it.
His tongue found mine, and my heart detonated. His hand slid from my hair down the side of my neck to my collarbone and back up, his fingers curling around my throat before framing my jaw in his palm.
“I want you,” he murmured against my mouth.
I could feel exactly how much. But I knew it was more than lust. He wanted all of me. Even the parts I was afraid to show. Even the parts I didn’t have left to give.
His hand trailed from my jaw to my chest, his thumb brushing over my nipple through the thin fabric, and the moan that tore out of me was loud enough to wake the neighbors.
I wanted more. Wanted to get lost in him. Wanted to stop thinking.
But I couldn’t. Not like this. Not with a lie still sitting between us.
I pushed him back. His hand fell from my chest and caught my hip, trying to keep me close.
“Caleb.” I looked up at him through blurred, tear-soaked eyes. “I’m pregnant.”
The silence that followed was so complete I could hear my own heartbeat and nothing else.
His gaze dropped to my stomach. His hand, still on my hip, slid slowly across my middle. “Pregnant,” he whispered.
