Page 33 of Wicked Truths
“Damn it,” he mutters, pushing me away gently.
My heart sinks as the heat of the kiss evaporates in an instant.
“You’re no better than anyone else,” I hiss, fury mixing with disappointment as I grab my bag, clothes, and car keys.
“Amara—”
“I have to go home.” The words come out sharper than intended.
“Wait,” he says, his voice softening as if trying to catch me before I slip away completely.
Poppy wanders outside. She stares at me with everything in my hands. “Where are you going?”
“I have an assignment due Monday.” The lie rolls off my tongue effortlessly as I step into the house.
She narrows her eyes but plays along for now. “You know we don’t hand in assignments until the end of the semester.”
I swing my bag over my shoulder, trying to sound casual. “It’s not for uni. It’s for an online course I’m taking.” My heart races under Poppy’s watchful gaze.
“You’re lying,” she states bluntly but with no accusation in her tone.
“Oh. I know, I’m sorry. I just need to go home. Milly said something that worried me!” I hate that I’m still lying to Poppy, but what am I supposed to say? “She also invited us out for dinner tomorrow at seven. Do you fancy it?”
Poppy brightens as I open the door; Caleb follows quietly. “Absolutely.”
At my car, I throw my things into my trunk. “Damn. My towel.”
“Just a minute. I’ll get it,” Poppy says.
The moment Poppy disappears, Caleb catches up with me and tilts my chin high so our eyes meet.
“You shouldn’t lie,” he breathes.
“What do you want me to say to her? That you rejected me? That I’m feeling worthless?” My voice cracks at the last word.
“I’m not rejecting you,” he insists, his gray eyes locking with mine. “I’m trying to work out how to have you without losing her.”
He leans down again and kisses me tenderly on the lips one last time before pulling back slightly. “Go home before I do something I will regret.”
“I want you to.”
“Amara.” The tone in his voice is a warning.
“Log onto the website and switch your camera on.”
“Caleb,” I say softly, glancing back at him. “I don’t show my face anymore. I only chat with clients.” My breath hitches as I remember those intimate moments we’ve shared—behind a screen, behind a mask.
“Will you do it for me?” He steps closer, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper that sends shivers down my spine.
“Yeah.” I bite my lip, trying to steady the flood of emotions that threatens to spill over.
His gaze darkens. “Then make it for my eyes only. I want to see you fall apart in front of me again.”
“But only on the screen,” I stammer, feeling heat rise in my cheeks.
He sighs heavily, frustration clear in his posture. “Yes, until you’re ready, Amara. Because you’re not ready.” He reaches out, brushing his fingertips along my arm.
“I am,” I insist, leaning into his touch. “I want you. And I know you want me.”
