Broken Bond by C.J. Primer

“What?” I gasp, my eyes flying wide. I know my friend, and she would‘ve told me if she was planning on

going to the party with a date. He chuckles softly. “Chase just about lost his shit.” “I knew he had a thing

for her!” I exclaim, slapping a hand against the steering wheel.

Callum tosses me a glance, smirking. “He‘s not fooling anyone, huh? Except maybe himself.” He swipes

a hand over his chin, his aqua eyes glinting in amusement.

“Him and Vee both,” I giggle.

I relax more as we fill the duration of the drive chatting about our friends and the party at the Stillwater

Tap, almost forgetting about our destination. The lighthearted banter puts me at ease until Cal points out

the turn for Norbury, and once I take it and he starts giving me directions, anxiety creeps back in.

“Take this left,” Callum instructs, pointing out the windshield to indicate.

My muscles start to lock up as I turn the wheel, my frantic thoughts rushing to my lips like word vomit. “If

you think this is a hookup, you‘ve got me all wrong,” I blurt, my hair whipping me in the face as I snap my

head toward him. “If you‘re bringing me back to your place, I...” He cuts me off with a bark of laughter, his

hand landing on my bare thigh. “I‘d fuck you, but we could‘ve just done that in the parking lot,” he

murmurs, smirking. “And if you think I bring women back to my place, then you‘ve got me

wrong, too.” Huh?

My brows draw together in confusion as he leans forward, pointing to the wide shoulder of the road. “Pull

off here.”

I hit the brakes to slow down, pulling over and sliding the gear into park. Now I‘m even more confused.

We‘re in the middle of nowhere, there‘s nothing but trees all around us. Is this some kind of sick joke?

His hand squeezes my thigh, sending a swarm of tingles racing through my body. “You got anything

other than those heels? Might be hard to walk through the snow in them.” “Uh, yeah,” I breathe,

unclipping my seatbelt and opening my door. We both get out and Callum meets me at the trunk as I‘m

popping it open to retrieve a pair of snow boots. When my mom urged me to keep a pair in here in case

of roadside emergencies, something tells me this isn‘t what she had in mind. I grip the edge of the trunk

for balance as I slide my stilettos off my feet, replacing them with the clunky fur–lined boots.

“Got a jacket?” Callum inquires, and I respond with a shake of my head. Without missing a beat, he

shrugs his own off his shoulders, passing it in my direction.

I should probably be questioning this more than I am right now. Callum Conway, a guy that most people

fear, just directed me to drive him to the middle of nowhere in the dead of night. And now he‘s bundling

me up like we‘re going for a hike or something, separating me from my vehicle so I have no way out of

here. When exactly should I start panicking?

The inside of his jacket is still warm when I slide my arms into the sleeves, and damn, it smells like him.

Like juniper and smoke and man. I barely contain a satisfied groan as I wrap myself up in it, the sleeves

hanging down past my hands. “C‘mon.” He slams the trunk closed with a palm, turning on a heel and

gesturing for me to follow him into the woods.

Am I crazy enough to do this?

No turning back now, I guess...

The snow crunches underneath my boots as I follow his path, surveying my surroundings to try to get my

bearings. There‘s something familiar about the route we‘re taking, but I can‘t quite put my finger on it. At

least, not until we reach a break in the trees and I see a clearing where a bunch of old chairs are circled

up around a firepit.

“Here?!” I laugh incredulously, still following him as he marches straight for the large bonfire pit encircled

in stones. He throws me a smirk over his shoulder. “What, did you think I was leading you into the woods

to kill you?”

Maybe.

“Our time here was cut short the other night,” Cal shrugs, stepping past the pit to a woodpile, brushing a

layer of snow off the top.

I wrap my arms around myself for warmth and bury my face in the collar of Callum‘s jacket, breathing in

his scent as I watch him start hauling logs into the pit. “Aren‘t you worried about the rogue?” I question.

“Nah.” He keeps tossing logs on, and once he‘s got a sizable stack, he reaches for a bottle of lighter

fluid, squirting it all over the pile of firewood. My nose wrinkles as the pungent aroma taints the air and I

bury my nose further into Cal‘s jacket. I wonder if he wears cologne. No man has the right to smell this

good. He lights a match, tossing it into the pit, and the whole stack of wood ignites with a whoosh, the

heat immediately seeping into my skin. I blink against the harsh light that it puts put off, watching Callum

stare into the flames in morbid fascination. 1

He‘s definitely a fire bug. I file that little tidbit away for later, adding it to the growing list of things I‘ve

been learning about Callum Conway. He‘s not at all what I expected, but then again, people rarely are.

I‘m not sure why I‘m so fascinated by him. He has me acting like I‘m somebody else, completely out of

my element. I‘m not sure yet if that should worry me. Cal strides over to the same big wooden chair he

was seated in the other night, sinking down onto it and beckoning me with a lift of his chin. It‘s a cocky

move, but one I find myself responding to nonetheless. With my arms still wrapped around myself and

my hands buried inside the jacket sleeves, I walk toward him, eyeing the bench that I occupied last

weekend. He notices, tapping his leg with a palm. I pause in front of the bench, then sidestep and drop

down onto his lap. I can only conclude that someone else is living in my body right now. There‘s no other

explanation for this reckless behavior. He probably needs me for warmth, considering he gave up his

jacket– but when Callum‘s arm snakes around my waist, pulling me backwards to rest against his

chest, it‘s hard, broad, and radiating heat. Shifters generally run hot. The cold doesn‘t bother us like it

would the average human; spending time outdoors like this in the dead of winter is perfectly normal for

us, while humans would be freezing their butts off.

I gaze into the fire, watching the bright orange flames dance toward the sky as my head drops back

against Callum‘s shoulder. I‘ve never sat like this with someone before, and it‘s actually... nice. It‘s

comfortable. Which is strange, considering who I‘m with.

“Why are people afraid of you?” I murmur, thinking aloud. “Because I‘m not a good person.” His answer

is instant, like he‘s fielded that question a hundred times.

Heaving a sigh, I sit up, twisting sideways in Callum‘s lap to look into his eyes. I shake my head. “I don‘t

believe that.”

His eyes narrow and he gives me this funny look, like in all the times he‘s answered that question, he‘s

never had someone disagree. It makes me sad for him.

“I know you think you‘re some sort of idealist,” he rasps, his arm tightening around my waist. He leans in

a little closer, my heart rate quickening. “But sometimes when people tell you exactly who they are, you

should believe them.”

A giggle bubbles up from my throat and I shake my head again, punctuating it with an eyeroll.“Why are

you so intent on trying to scare me off?” I laugh. “You know I don‘t do this, right?”

“Do what?” he asks, his brow creasing.

I lift a hand, gesturing between us. “This. Date.”

Now it‘s his turn to laugh. “Good, because I don‘t either.” Yet even though we just agreed on that, it feels

like we‘re drifting closer together, our bodies magnetized to one another‘s. “Then what are we doing?” I

ask, arching a brow as a coy smile pulls at my lips. His are so close to my own, just a whisper away, and

my gaze drops to them unwittingly. “Just going with it.” Callum leans in, his lips brushing against mine as

every synapse in my body springs to life. His lips are as soft as they look, touching mine gently,

tentatively, almost like he‘s seeking permission. And I... go with it.

I reach up to cup his jaw, squeezing my eyes closed and pressing my lips against his. Beyond all reason,

despite all logic, I kiss him. My lips slide against the softness of his own, a little clumsy and unsure, but

he doesn‘t leave me hanging this man knows what he‘s doing. A growl rumbles in his chest and he pulls

me in closer, crushing his mouth against mine as I gasp his air. My whole body feels like a livewire,

crackling with energy and molten heat as Callum deepens the kiss like he wants to devour me. He licks

my lips with his tongue, teasing the seam until I part them to grant him entry. His mouth tastes sinful, his

tongue wickedly tangling with mine in an intoxicating fury of desire. I follow his lead, kissing him harder,

losing myself in the passion of the moment His hands are on my body, mine are in his hair, tugging the

strands as his teeth nip my lips and a moan escapes my throat.

This isn‘t me. I don‘t kiss boys, unless you count Craig Ferguson in the fourth grade or Tommy Bleeker in

the sixth. I‘ve never been kissed properly, not like this. I never knew it could be like this. If I did, maybe I

would‘ve tried to do it sooner.

His kiss is rough, yet gentle. Demanding, yet cautious. It‘s somehow everything that it should be, and

when we finally break it to catch our breath, we‘re both panting, eyes alight like we just cracked some

secret code that neither of us knew existed. His thumb traces the outline of my lower lip as I stare at him

in wonderment, my skin hot, cheeks flushed.

“Callum, I...”

“It‘s late,” he snaps, something in his gaze shuttering as his hand drops from my face. His arm falls away

from my waist. “You should go.” 1 And just like that, the moment‘s over. I turn away before he can see

the bewilderment in my eyes, scrambling off of his lap and finding my footing in the snow. “Sure. Yeah.”

What just happened?

My mind‘s all tangled up again, my legs unsteady from the foreign sensations still rushing through my

body. Was I a bad kisser? Callum pushes up from his chair, stepping closer to me. “Hey.” He loops his

arms around my waist, holding me steady. “You alright?” I tilt my chin to gaze up at him. I‘m tall for a girl,

but he‘s a good six inches taller. It‘s almost too much to look into his eyes, at his lips... Before I can even

blink, they‘re descending on mine again, liquid fire coursing

through my veins. Our mouths connect in a frenzy of lips and tongues and teeth, a kiss so scorching hot

that it puts the first one to shame. My knees buckle, my heart races. I don‘t even want to come up for air.

I can barely breathe when he pulls away, his eyes a storm of conflicted lust.“ Fuck,” he hisses, stumbling

backwards and scrubbing a hand over his face. “You need to leave,” Cal growls. 1 The threat in his tone

sends a shiver racing up my spine. It‘s not him I‘m afraid of, though– it‘s my own body‘s reaction to him;

the heat flooding my veins and the desire pooling between my thighs that has me terrified.

He slowly backs away, shaking his head, molten eyes pinning me in place. “Don‘t you need a ride

home?” I stammer, still breathless and trembling. “No. Go.”

I grasp ahold of my bearings and do what any normal, rational person would do in this situation. I turn

around and run.