This scene from Callum’s POV occurs near the beginning of the book, right after Emery walked out on him at the restaurant and he followed her, directing the police to pull over her taxi so he can give her the chicken salad she left behind.
Sometimes my animal breaks from its leash.
That’s what I was about to say before I caught myself.
I’ve barely got it under control now as I watch Emery walk away, full hips swaying, wavy dark hair cascading down her back. She’s got a figure like a fifties movie star, the kind of womanly softness that drives a man wild. And that red lipstick she wears…
I can’t count how many times I’ve fantasized about shoving my cock past those scarlet lips and down her throat.
It takes a concentrated effort to stay seated in the car and let her go.
Arlo turns away from his conversation with the police officers. He catches my eye through the windshield. When I shake my head, he allows her to pass.
No matter how much my lust is screaming at me to, trying to force her now would ruin everything.
All the years of waiting.
All the time spent watching.
All my careful plans.
Emery doesn’t glance my way as she returns to the other car. She doesn’t look back as it pulls away from the curb and merges into traffic. When they turn a corner and disappear, I release the guttural groan of need I’ve been holding since I walked into her store and close my eyes.
As desperate for her as the rest of me is, my stiff dick throbs against my thigh.
So close. So fucking close. Goddammit.
I squeeze the length of my aching cock through my trousers, remembering in exquisite detail the lines of her body, the sheen of her skin.
I’ve never seen another woman with skin so perfect. Skin that reflects light in a golden glow, making her look as if she’s lit from within.
I want to mark it.
With my teeth, fingers, and open hand, I want to mark that unblemished skin of hers on every tender, hidden place on her body.
I want to spank that ripe ass, pinch those full tits, bite her nipples and inner thighs. I want to hear her cry out in pain and pleasure as I hold her down and fuck that soft, curvaceous body unforgivingly hard. I want to be the last thing she thinks of at night and the first thing she thinks of in the morning.
The way she is for me.
The way she always has been, since the first time I laid eyes on her.
I want all of Emery Eastwood. Every inch of her. Every breath. Every dream. Every orgasm. Every atom of who she is in mind, soul, and body.
And I won’t fucking rest until she’s mine.
