Redeeming (Red Lips & White Lies Book 2)

“Swear to fuck, guys. It’s not like this everywhere. You’ve got to get the hell out of this town. They leave us alone in Chicago. I’m not in a constant fish tank.” Hendrix, Declan’s youngest son, looks between his older brothers and me, disgusted by the constant attention the Kroydon Kronicles shines on the local celebrities. Especially our friends and family.

“Dude, I’d be one of those little sucker sharks in a fish tank. Top of the food chain.”

“Leo . . . seriously, man, you know they attach themselves to the glass and eat the algae, right?” I shake my head, then laugh as Nixon shoves Leo.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Nix asks as we walk back to the condo. “Did Dad drop you on your head as a baby or something?”

“You gotta look past the Kronicles. The rest of the town doesn’t give a shit who we are or what we’re doing.” This town protects their own, for the most part, but I wonder how bad the attention is going to get once word gets out about Dad.

Leo claps me on the back. “And that’s coming from a frequent Kronicles headliner.”

“Fuck off,” I grumble, unable to talk to these guys about what’s going on. Only a year separates Nixon and me, but these guys are part of the kids my sister so eloquently told me not to tell about Dad’s diagnosis.

“What the hell’s going on with you tonight, Uncle?” Leo pushes.

He always pushes.

Hendrix snickers, and I groan.

“Dude, didn’t you two walk in on your mom and dad getting it on during vacation last month?” I push back to get them to shut up.

I want to get the hell home and go to bed. We don’t have practices on Tuesdays, and right about now, I’m living for tomorrow.

“Too soon, Callen,” Hendrix bitches, and I side-eye him.

Nixon’s chest shakes with laughter as we walk into the lobby of our building and wave at the doorman. “We’re never letting you live it down either, little brother.”

“I’m never gonna look at a washing machine the same way,” Hendrix mumbles, and yeah . . . it might make me crack a smile. “Fuck, man. I’m gonna have nightmares again now. You gonna comfort me, Nix?”

Nixon shoves him away as we wait for the elevator. “You’re on the couch tonight, shithead.”

“Come on. I’m flying back to Chicago tomorrow. You’re not really making me crash on a couch, are ya?”

Leo flicks Hendrix’s ear. “Could’a slept at Mom and Dad’s. I’m sure your noise-canceling headphones would have been fine.”

“Dude . . .” Hendrix closes his eyes. “I’ll take the couch.”

I lean my head back against the wall, tired as shit, and watch the dynamic play out between the brothers before the doors open on Nix and Leo’s floor, one below mine. They file out, but I grab Hendrix and drag him in for a hug. “See you soon, man.”

“See ya, Uncle.”

“Fucker,” I mumble and shove him through the door.

Cupcake and Meatball greet me at the door a minute later, shaking their little asses, demanding to be given the attention they want, and refusing to move until I give in. Kinda like someone else I know. I lock up behind myself and chug a bottle of water in the kitchen, hoping no one else is home. But I know she is. I can feel it in my bones. That’s what it’s been like since the day Caitlin moved in.

I move into the dimly lit, quiet family room, where the woman who haunts my fucking dreams as much as my days sits, curled up in the corner of the couch. Her delicate frame is lit by a single lamp as her hand moves furiously over her sketchpad. Cait’s dark hair is piled on top of her head with a pencil sticking through the center of it, holding it in place. A single strap of her black tank top has fallen off her shoulder, giving me a glimpse of way too much creamy, perfect skin.

Skin I want to mark.

To claim.

But I can’t.

Not with this woman.

Not now.

Not ever.

“Callen . . . Callen⁠—”

Her words are hushed, like she’s in a vacuum.

Shit.

“Earth to Callen.” She looks up at me, annoyed that I’m standing between her and the lamp. “Are you ignoring me or have you just taken too many tackles to the head?”

Fuck—she’s beautiful.

“You don’t take tackles to the head, kitten.” My feet don’t budge as she puts down her sketchbook and purple pencils and stands to face me. Her tits push the boundaries of her soft-looking tank, with her peaked nipples holding my gaze like oncoming headlights I can’t look away from. Jesus Christ, I can’t do this anymore.

“I know.” She smiles as if last night didn’t happen and she hadn’t walked away, pissed and hurt. And it’s the hurt that killed me. Pissed Caitlin I can handle. Hurt is a whole different game, and I swear to fuck, I can’t keep up with her. “I was calling your name, and it was like you were lost somewhere else. I knew if I got a football term wrong, you’d correct me.”

She reaches out and tugs my hand in hers, and something about her touch breaks me in a way I’m not sure I want to recover from.

Before yesterday, I thought I was un-fucking-breakable.

“Cait—it’s been a shit day . . .”

Her fingers brush my temple, and I close my eyes and soak in the touch I know I shouldn’t allow.

“Talk to me, Callen.” Caitlin’s voice is soft and so unlike her. “We used to talk.”

I did that to her, and damn, I don’t like knowing she’s now hesitant with me.

“I gave my word, Cait.” I don’t know how I’m going to shoulder that weight though. Not when it’s already a million-pound anchor drowning me.

Her pale cheeks flush with fiery anger. “My brother⁠—”

“It’s not Maddox,” I cut her off. I owe her that much. “It’s my dad,” I utter, so damn frustrated.

“Coach?” She takes a step closer, and all the anger that was there a second ago is washed away like the change of the tide. “Is he okay?”

No one ever gives Caitlin the credit she deserves for being as intuitive as she is. They all see her as a flaky socialite, more interested in designer shoes and clothes than anything that matters. They don’t know her. They never took the time to watch her. Their loss.

I grab her nearly naked shoulders, tangling my fingers in her straps, unable to think straight while she’s touching me.

“I won’t say a word, Callen. Something is eating you alive. It’s enough that you stumbled in blackout drunk last night.” Sadness laces her tone as her icy-blue eyes shudder at the mention of last night. She’s not yelling at me like I expected, and that’s somehow worse.

“You’re wrong,” I tell her, and she laughs a silent laugh.

With a determined tightness settling in, she takes another step toward me until only inches separate us. “I’m not. Whatever it is, it’s already consuming you. You need to talk to someone, and I’m the only one here, buddy.”

“You forgive me for last night then?” I’m not sure why I even ask, but I do it knowing I might not like the answer.

She shakes her head. “I’m choosing to be the bigger person. You’re still my friend, and you’re hurting.”

“You’re not wrong about that, Cait.” I can hear the exhaustion in my own voice, but there’s nothing I can do about it. Not now. Not when I’m so fucking tired. Tired of fighting this. Tired of just the idea of fighting everything that’s coming. Fucking tired of fighting her.

She cocks her head to the side, working through what I mean.

“I wasn’t blackout drunk. I remember all of last night. I knew what I was doing. It’s the only part of the whole fucking day I don’t want to forget.” I slide my hands down to her waist and breathe her in like she’s the hit of pure oxygen I need to get through the night. “I knew I shouldn’t have done that. And I know I shouldn’t be doing this, Cait.”

Her breath gets caught in her chest as a tremor runs down her beautiful body.

The tips of her fingers skim over my lips, and my control frays at the edges as it pulls tight, trying to hold strong. But failing.

“Careful, Callen. You’re not getting another chance.” She presses up on her toes and wraps her arms around my neck. “Be sure this is what you want.”

And it’s like I can see each individual strand of the string holding me back snapping one at a time.

I’m not good enough for her—snap.

Our families are already too interconnected—snap.

She’s part of my inner circle—snap

Until there’s only one string left.

“You can’t just use me to forget the rest.”

That’s when the final string breaks.

Fuck it.

Caitlin

Callen’s mouth is on mine, intense and unrelenting, like an all-consuming fire, sucking all the oxygen from the room and demanding everything I’ve desperately wanted him to take for years.

His hands slide down to my ass, and I’m lifted in his arms. “Fuck, Cait . . .”

My name is like a prayer violently ripped from his lips like nothing I’ve ever heard before. Heaven wars with hell as he takes the stairs two at a time, kissing and licking, teeth grazing and hands squeezing. Part of me knows this—us—can’t happen.

Shouldn’t happen. I’m waiting for him to tell me so. Dreading it.

But with each touch . . . each kiss and suck, I push my thoughts away because I’ve never wanted anyone or anything as much as I want this man in this moment.

In every moment.

Callen kicks open his bedroom door and spins us around, pressing me up against the cool wood door. His muscles shake with restraint as he rips his lips from mine and presses them to my forehead, and I close my eyes, thinking—now is it. Now is when he’s going to stop.

Because we’ve been here before, and that crashed and burned before it ever started.

Only this time, he doesn’t push me away. He pulls me closer. One hand bands around my waist, and the other cups my face as his green eyes darken, and he leans his forehead against mine. Our lips are barely a whisper of a breath a part as he licks his lips. “Four fucking years, kitten. I’ve kept my distance from you . . .”

His voice is deep and strained, but those aren’t the words I crave.

“I don’t want your distance, Callen. Please. Please. Please. Don’t stop.” I shove my hands under his shirt and drag my nails down his back, clawing to get closer. “Please . . .”

“I’ve been the better man for four fucking years,” he growls and captures my lips as I sink against him. “I can’t do it anymore, Caitlin.” His words teeter on the edge of barely disguised anger before he swallows my cry and carries me to the bed.

I’m dropped down with a bounce, and before my next breath, my cami and shorts are in a pile on the floor, and Callen is on his knees with my thighs thrown over his shoulders, shaking with a matching need. “You are so fucking beautiful, kitten.”

I lose all sense of self-control as rough, calloused hands skim the inside of my thighs, followed by his lips. His hot breath causes goosebumps to break out over every inch of my cool flesh, while Callen’s fingers play with the strings of my thong. Tracing them. Snapping them. Running under them. “I like this, Cait. Black lace suits you. My black cat.”

His nose glides up my thigh and over the expensive lingerie before he rips it from my body with his bare hands.

I lean up on my elbows and look down at the sinful sight in front of me. Callen’s head should live between my legs.

“That was Italian silk lace,” I gasp as his tongue licks up the length of my sex, and I lose any sense of control I may have had left and fall back against the bed.

“I’ll buy you more,” he growls against my pussy, and the vibrations send me skyrocketing.

A moan slips past my lips as my vision darkens, and I bury my fingers in his thick hair.

Every nerve ending is supercharged with an electric current pulsing through my body.

Already on the verge of falling . . .

Of breaking in a way I never have.

A way I might not recover from.

Callen sucks my clit between his lips, and I hum deep in my throat as he slides one blunt, beautifully calloused finger into me, then another. Stretching me.

“So fucking wet for me, Caitlin.”

Oh my God.

I see stars as I close my eyes, the sound of his voice threatening to get me off all by itself.

“Don’t stop,” I gasp as I grind shamelessly against his face. “Please, Callen. I need . . . more.”

“I know what you need, kitten,” he teases and bites down on my throbbing, swollen clit, sending a shockwave straight to my core.

“Tell me this is for me, Caitlin” he demands as he adds another finger, curling it inside me, and my orgasm tugs at the edge of my sanity. “Tell me this pussy is wet for me . . . Have you been dreaming about me fucking you?” His teeth graze my clit. “Filling you?”

Callen looks up at me and slaps my pussy, then buries his face against me, and I don’t have time to even think as I come blindingly fast and hard, shaking and screaming his name.

“Fucking beautiful, Caitlin,” he growls as he kisses the inside of each thigh before he drops them to the bed and stands.

I think I’m going to die as I watch him walk away, dazed and confused and heartbroken, thinking he’s walking away, until he comes back in from the bathroom, carrying a string of condoms.

Thank God one of us is thinking straight because I’m pretty sure I’m incapable of higher-functioning reasoning right now. This—whatever this is with Callen—has fried my brain.

The sexy, cocky smile pulling at his lips has ruined me, and that’s before he shoves his jeans and boxer briefs down his legs and rolls the condom over his beautifully thick, long, hard dick. My God, my mouth waters at the sight.

“Kitten . . .” He drops a knee on the bed next to me. Two thick, rough fingers drag through my hypersensitive sex before he paints my lips with my own cum, then presses down. “Open for me and suck.”

I do as I’m told and eagerly slip him between my lips. My tongue traces the pads of his fingers before sucking them into my mouth, so completely turned-on, it nearly shocks me.

Callen’s lust-fueled deep-green eyes grow wild before he captures my lips with his, sucking my tongue and sharing the taste.

My toes curl as every inch of my body sparks, ready for more.

I reach down and wrap my hand around Callen’s cock, unable to fist him completely, and the sexy sound that rumbles through his chest at the sight of it is so fucking hot.

I press him against my entrance, then look up, unexpectedly hesitant.

“It’ll fit, kitten.” His hand covers mine and drags his cock through my sex, coating himself in my wetness. And there goes that smile again.

“Fuck me, Callen.” The words are quiet as I get lost in the moment.

“Never could tell you no, Cait,” he whispers against my lips and pushes himself inside me in one long, deep stroke. But it’s not enough. I want more.

My body throbs with a need I’ve never felt before as pleasure threatens to pull me under.

Callen stretches me so completely, my body vibrates around his.

“Gonna need you to breathe, Cait.”

I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath until his hand cups my face, and he takes my mouth in an earth-shattering kiss.

He slides out slowly before pushing in again, and my knees lock tight against his hips as I lose myself in the kiss.

Every night I’ve ever longed for this.

Every time I’ve ever wished it could be us.

“Breathe, baby.” He pulls back out before inching back in further until he swallows my moan and my hips raise to meet his. He holds me close as his mouth moves down my body, worshipping me.

My hands skim over the planes of his face like I’ve longed to for so damn long, and I close my eyes, lost in the feel. Overwhelmed in the moment.

“Eyes on me, Caitlin. I want you to remember who’s fucking you.”

My eyes fly open, and damn this man for being this beautiful.

His eyes soften, and I absolutely melt as pleasure pounds through me. I press my palms flat against his chest and wrap my legs around his waist, digging my heels into his ass. Clinging to him, not an inch of space left between us.

“Fuck, you take my cock like such a good girl.” I preen under his touch and his words. “Your fucking cunt was made for me, Cait.”

My clit throbs with each new filthy word, and a delicious flush coats every inch of my heated skin.

“So fucking tight.” He snaps his hips against mine, picking up speed, driving deeper and harder as I cling to him, unable to think . . . or speak.

I just feel . . . This. Us. Him. Everything.

Sensations overload my body, as it pulses around his.

“You like the way my cock fills you, baby? The way you stretch around me?” His voice is deep and harsh and so fucking sexy.

“God, yes,” I moan, clawing at his thick, strong shoulders and loving the way his muscles feel under my hands as he fucks me harder.  Faster. Sending me higher—until I’m soaring.

My orgasm is right there, just out of reach as I moan and gasp.

Breathless and needy.

So damn needy.

My body strung tight, begging for relief. But I never want to come because I don’t want this to end. Not tonight or tomorrow. Just. Not.

Callen slams into me, his fingers biting into my skin as he fucks me.

He looks like a savage god.

My savage god.

“Need you to come now, Cait,” he demands and flattens my hips to the bed while he fucks into me over and over. I scream incoherently as my orgasm ignites, and flames burst behind my eyes and lick up my skin, threatening to destroy me in the fiery explosion.

He fucks me through my orgasm before my name falls from his lips and this beautiful man takes what’s his.

What’s always been his to take.

Even if it leaves me irrevocably broken.