Chapter 6: Collision

After three years, Caleb’s eyes once again clearly reflected my image.

His gaze sharpened, recognition dawning and then hardening into something like pain.

His eyes were slightly red and moist, and what I felt under his palm was hard.

I could feel his pulse thrumming beneath my fingers, his breath coming shallow and fast.

I half-knelt beside him, vaguely feeling something pressing into me.

The awkwardness, the tension, the hunger in the air—it all came rushing back, too much and not enough at the same time.

Before I could think further, Caleb suddenly pinned me to the desk, as if pressing down a paperweight.

His hand was rough, desperate. My back hit the hard mahogany with a thud that rattled the pens in their cup. The mahogany was cold against my back, but his breath was hot on my cheek.

Hair clips clattered, dark hair tumbled loose.

My hair fanned across the desk, catching in a stray sticky note about the nuclear triad.

The scarf was lifted. Caleb looked at me, saying nothing.

His eyes searched my face, as if seeing a ghost he’d both hoped for and feared.

I smiled.

I couldn’t help it. Old instincts took over, defiance blooming in my chest.

“Long time no see. Isn’t the president going to greet his old friend?”

I waggled my eyebrows for good measure, as if we were still kids sneaking out past curfew.

Caleb ignored me.

His jaw was set, his mouth a flat, angry line.

He coldly and almost roughly wiped away the lipstick I used for disguise, his force so strong it seemed he was venting his anger.

His thumb scraped my cheek, the motion more punishment than tenderness.

I brushed his hand away, perfunctorily resisting. “What are you doing?”

I tried to sound annoyed, but my voice was breathless.

Caleb grabbed both my wrists with one hand and pinned them above my head, our long hair intertwining.

His grip was firm, his body pressed close. The scent of aftershave and paper filled the narrow space between us.

“That’s what I should be asking you,” his eyes were pitch black, like ink spreading, our faces close, “Natalie Quinn, what are you here for?”

He spoke my full name, the sound both an accusation and a prayer.

I watched him with interest. Not only was I unafraid, I couldn’t help but want to laugh.

Somehow, this was more familiar than the polite version of him the world saw.

I was born into a military family. With my skills, I could easily resist him, but how should I put it…

I’m sick.

Even before, I liked seeing Caleb lose control because of me.

There was something intoxicating about being the only one who could make him unravel.

I paused, then pretended to be at ease and smiled, blinking innocently.

“As you can see,” I boldly hooked my arms around his neck, my legs wrapping around his waist, “I’m seducing you.”

I let the words hang, daring him to refuse me.

His eyes darkened, and for a heartbeat, I couldn’t tell if he was going to kiss me—or throw me out.