His lips brushed hers again, this time harder, more desperate. Open kisses that slowly tore away the loneliness of her heart and replaced it with need and desire. Her fingers dug into the side of him as his tongue found hers, moving and sucking, and she found it impossible to breathe.
Callum’s lips moved back and he pressed his forehead to hers, panting. “Peyton, you’re trying to mask the pain of losing the hotel with sex.”
She shook her head. “I’m not in as much pain as you think I am, Callum.”
“Pey—”
“No,” she interrupted. “I know what it’s like to lose it all. It hurt to see it burn down, but it is nothing compared to the feeling of losing my parents. And it comes nowhere close to losing you. That broke the person I was.”
“I don’t think it’s hit you yet. And I’m okay with you blaming me, Peyton.”
Her heart squeezed. She couldn’t and wouldn’t blame Callum for the fire. He had been in her bed when it’d happened. If she were going to blame anyone, it would be Jay. He had stood back. He’d influenced the firefighters. He’d let it burn to ash.
“I don’t want sex from you, Callum.”
His breathing hitched. And she pushed her body into his.
“I want you to make love to me. I need you to make me feel better. I need this sometimes moment with you.”
“Couch?” he asked before his lips crashed into hers, making her both her stomach and heart dip.
She answered each of his kisses with her own desperate ones, the need in her growing. She needed the pleasure he drew out of her. She needed the explosions and the momentary period of forgetfulness. She needed him and his heartbeat on her skin.
His lips moved from hers and trailed slowly from her jaw to her neck. She let out a soft moan, unable to suppress it.
“Bed,” she let out. Her heart beat hard against her chest as she cupped his face, making sure his eyes were on hers when she said, “Make love to me in my bed. No teasing or games. Just make love to me.”
“I love you so much,” he said with a hint of hesitation.
Then his hands were at her waist as he picked her up, her legs wrapping around him. His hands went to the back of her thighs, holding her securely. She panted at the intensity in his eyes.
“God gave me you and I gave you up. He gave me a small window to make this time count. I’m going to make sure that I don’t waste my time with you. Until we can’t take it anymore, I’ll keep making love to you,” he promised.
She warmed all over as her heart throbbed at his words. She blinked once before her mouth founds his, needing to feel him on her and in her. Needing every little bit of him.
Lie. God gave me you to love you twice as hard as last time, if not more.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Callum asked just before they walked down the small hill to the lake.
Peyton stopped, her hand shaking. Callum was right. Last night, it hadn’t sunk in. The hotel had caught fire. She didn’t know if anything remained. The firefighters on the scene had done nothing until Callum and Graham had stepped in. It was then that Peyton had understood how much power Jay held in their town—the same power that could have minimised the extent of the damage.
“You look tired,” she pointed out. The exhausted look on his face confirmed it.
Callum shook his head and took her hand in his. “I’m okay. Just got a little dizzy,” he said as they walked around the lake towards the hotel.
She refused to look at the sky for the hotel building. Instead, she watched each step they took. Carefully examining the way their steps had been in sync. Then suddenly, Callum pulled on her hand and stopped her. She felt him tense, gripping her hand harder. Peyton closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she slowly opened them. Then her breath caught in her throat as she took in what little of her hotel was left. The large Victorian building had completely burned to the ground. The fire made it possible for her to see right through where the hotel had once stood. It seemed that the fire hadn’t spread; the dance floor and posts outside the hotel had remained unharmed.
Just seeing the dance floor had her sighing in relief. Nothing else was damaged. The firefighters had contained it. It looked nothing like the large hotel that once had stood where burned wood, furniture, and ash lay. The smoke was still in the air, enough to make the situation feel so real.
“Peyton,” Jenny said.
Turning her head, she saw the hotel’s operations manager walk towards her, a phone in one hand and an iPad in the other. It was just after eight a.m. and Jenny was already working.
“How’d you sleep?” Jenny asked the moment she stood next to Peyton.
“Fine, considering,” she answered.
“The reporters will be here soon. I have Darryl coming in. He’ll make sure they don’t harass you. I’ll handle the media.”
Peyton turned and smiled at her co-worker. “I’m glad you married a constable.”