First and Only (Callaghan Brothers #2)

“Come on,” he said, patting the bed beside him. “Or are you going to make me get out of bed and undress you myself?”


She bit her bottom lip, shifting her weight ever so slightly as she considered her options. He could have told her not to bother. Self-denial was no match for the hunger, the want he saw in her eyes. But perhaps a little assurance might help her come to terms with it.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to,” he said quietly. “But I need to feel your body against mine. Just for a little while. Please, Lexi.”

It wasn’t a lie. He needed the contact so badly it bordered on pain. He wasn’t quite sure what he would do if she refused; he wouldn’t let himself even think about that.

Thankfully, she didn’t. His eyes burned with intensity as she removed her clothing piece by piece. He held up the covers for her as she slid in beside him. He sighed in relief as she slipped into his arms and the ache was replaced by her soft, silken warmth.

“You never answered my question,” he said softly, wishing he could capture the feel of her against him and hold onto it forever.

“What question?” she asked, her breath feathering across his neck as her hair cascaded over his arm.

“Did the reality come close to the fantasy?”

Ian felt her entire body tense, heard the sharp intake of breath. He flexed his arm and pulled her closer, just in case she had any misconceptions that he might allow her to pull away from him. Within moments, though, her body relaxed, and a stream of air brushed along his skin as she exhaled.

“No,” she said honestly, but so quietly even his acute hearing could barely pick it up. His heart stopped, pausing for a second as the pressure built in his chest. “It didn’t. The reality was infinitely better than anything I could have dreamed up.”

The floodgates opened in his soul and everything poured out in a rush, only to be filled again with her light and warmth. Along with the blinding truth he must have been an idiot not to see before.

Everything in him stilled. No. It wasn’t possible. He couldn’t have been her first. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized it probably was. With startling clarity he recalled her impossible tightness, the sound of her cries and the feel of her nails digging into his back when he first penetrated her.

He should have heeded his first instincts. On the bus it had taken him all of about two seconds to form the opinion that she was a virgin, or at least someone of extremely limited experience. But then, in her hotel room, that theory was blown right out of the water when she put her hand on him so boldly. No innocent, he reasoned, could have held such complete power of him from such a simple caress.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Lexi?” he asked, stroking her back, once he was able to speak again. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?”

“I wasn’t.”

It didn’t feel like a total lie, but it wasn’t quite the truth, either. It took him a few moments to put the pieces together. No, maybe she hadn’t been a virgin in the true sense of the word. But she was innocent. He closed his eyes, sure that he was right. He didn’t know the details, wasn’t sure he even wanted to. But he knew with every fiber of his being that he was the first – the only – man she’d ever been intimate with.

“I was your first, wasn’t I?”

She tensed again and tried to pull away, but Ian held her tight.

“Was it that obvious? Was I that awful?”

Ian slipped a finger under her chin and lifted her face to look at him, not sure whether he wanted to crush her in his arms or throttle her for even thinking such a thing. He swore that if he wasn’t already head over heels in love with her he would have been in that moment. Her eyes were big, so filled with worry and uncertainty that it blew him away. How could she ever believe that, even for a moment?

“No,” he said gently. “You were that good. I’ve never felt anything like it, never.” And that was the God’s honest truth. He’d never had anyone respond to him with such pure, honest emotion. Innocent, yet wanting. “But I wish you would have told me. I would have been gentler. I know I must have hurt you.”

The thought that he had hurt her cut ribbons through his gut. He pictured the marks he’d left on her body and felt a fresh wave of guilty pain.

“You didn’t hurt me.”

“Liar,” he chastised, kissing her forehead.

“Okay, maybe it hurt a little,” she admitted, drawing small circles on his chest with her fingers. “But I was afraid if I told you, you’d stop.”

He almost snorted. She believed he could have stopped? Obviously she had more faith in his self-control than he did. Well, he probably could have stopped, but it would have killed him. Or caused permanent damage in the very least. He told her as much.