“Good God, Nikki,” he wheezes into the pillow.

“Speak for yourself.”

He chuckles, rolls off of me, then grins as he settles to my side. I burrow my face into his chest, and he wraps his arms around my torso.

Afterglow sets in, and I’m instantly drowsy. After a while, through the fatigue, Callum’s words from earlier seep in.

I just want you.

I drift off, wondering what exactly the cost of bedding my enemy will be, how badly I’ll burn.

Chapter 10

I wake cradled against Callum’s bare chest, sunlight warm on my face. Eyes closed, I hum, satisfied. Then I check my phone on the nightstand and breathe a sigh of relief. No panicky texts from my aunt and uncle checking up on me. Thankfully, I had the foresight to text them last night just before falling asleep and tell them that I lost track of time during drinks and would stay with my “friend.” Again, that familiar tinge of guilt for lying to them hits, but I remind myself that their heads would explode if I told them the truth.

Underneath me, Callum stirs. When I peek up at him, he’s smiling. In an instant, every part of me relaxes.

“Morning,” he half yawns, half groans.

His open mouth is now just an inch from my face. I take the opportunity to nibble on his lip.

“Mmm,” he moans, letting me carry on for a few seconds before capturing my mouth in a slow, filthy kiss. “Now that’s a way to wake up.”

I gaze up at him, contentment coursing through me. Every muscle is relaxed, and I’m comfortably tucked in that happy-drunk mood that comes after epic sex and a hard sleep.

My stomach growls, a reminder that I haven’t eaten in the past eighteen hours. I was so nervous to meet Callum last night that I skipped dinner.

“Are you hungry?”

He looks at me, his eyes puffy from sleep. Still devastatingly gorgeous. He squints. “I am.”

I open my mouth to ask what he’d like to do for breakfast, but he grabs my wrists, pinning me to the mattress. There’s a slow trail of kisses down my chest.

“I thought you wanted breakfast,” I say between gasps. The feel of Callum’s lips trailing down my stomach is hands-down the hottest way to wake up.

“I do,” he says, his open mouth at my hip.

He resumes that filthy morning kiss, only this time between my legs. Callum is a quick study, remembering all the techniques from last night that sent me over the edge. Slow, long swipes of his tongue, that delicious suction technique that I’m going to tell him to patent once I regain my ability to speak. I’m squirming and panting, which soon gives way to shouts. It takes less than a minute and I’m gone.