Page 131 of The Other Side

“Okay,” I whisper on a nod.

I ghost my hands over his lower back, and he languidly pulls out.

The friction startles me, a gentle wince crossing my face. Until his two fingers are dancing around in that delicious circle again.

“Ohh,” I breathe, gaping my eyes at him.

My palms travel lower. The firm swells of his butt land under my touch as he slowly thrusts in and out of me.

His face gently contorts, his fingers tangling in my hair. “Does my cock feel good for you?” He trembles through his words, his vulnerability fueling my arousal. “I want to make sure it always feels good for you. That you like it.”

Chapter 38

Brant

After a six-hour drive on a Sunday, Callie and I finally made it back to my house.

When I first mentioned my trip to Willowhart, I never expected her to come along. But she did. Not only that, she regained the strength she thought she lost.

Our trip was perfection personified.

Flawless in every facet of the term.

I found her again. The girl my heart yearned for every single day when I walked out of that trailer. I’d wake up, march down the wooden steps just praying those sage-green eyes would drown me deeper than they did the day before.

I thought when the time came to take Callie back there, I’d have to suffocate her with my shield. But she didn’t need my armor.

She soars now. Just like the woman I always dreamed of her becoming. I’d lay my life down for her, that’s not a question. But I want to live with her more. I want to witness every grin, every chuckle, every ounce of light that casts along the contours of that face I’m disgustingly obsessed with.

I lean my back against the headboard. Callie’s crouched over her paisley duffle bag in the corner. She’s sifting through her belongings in her oversized t-shirt and cotton shorts, and I inhale.

A swirl of nerves twists inside my chest when I wonder how much longer she’s going to stay with me.

Is it forever?

On our ride back, I caught her abruptly flipping her phone down on her lap. Her silence was defeating, leaving me to believe that Jesse’s trying to wedge himself back into her life.

I’m aware she still needs to pack up the rest of her things from his house, but I’ve been too much of a pussy to inquire about it. My heart split open the first time she left. If I had to watch her walk away again, my heart would cease to exist.

I lay my free hand on my bare abs when Callie stands to turn around. I notice she has her arms tucked behind her back, and my brows pinch. “Uh oh,” I tease.

“I want to show you something,” she says softly. Her eyes are solemn as her face teases a hint of a smile.

My playfulness disintegrates, my eyes lingering on hers. Then I’m nodding. “Okay.”

Her long waves bounce along her arms as she strolls to the foot of the bed. The mattress dips when she props one knee up, and I straighten my posture.

She scoots up to me when I crisscross my legs, placing a book on my lap.

The hefty weight dips through my sweatpants. The textured leather of the hardcover presses into my legs, and Callie shuffles to sit at my side.

My attention focuses as my hands trace the front cover.

Stories for Dove.

That’s the title.

The pads of my fingers brush over the lamination of the center label. The title is written in Callie’s handwriting and traced with a yellow-colored pencil.