Crashing into Love by Flora Ferrari

Chapter Seven

Conrad

I sit on the balcony, the night sky above me, clouds shielding the stars, and the city dark beneath me. It’s never completely dark, with lights glimmering into the night, but it’s almost three AM.

Staring down at the pink bundle on the table in front of me, my heart picks up speed, every part of me fraught with tension.

Why the fuck did this have to happen now?

It makes me sick as I stare at it, my mind flitting to Callie in her room, praying she didn’t see me grab them and shove them into my pocket. She was gazing around at the light fixtures and the wallpaper and the carpet, her interior-designer mind whirring, so maybe she didn’t catch it.

But what if she did?

I could ask her, but I don’t want to upset her for no reason if it turns out she didn’t see it. There’s no reason for her to learn about that mess, for our first night together to be poisoned by the past.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, warning myself that I’m going to need to grab some shuteye soon. I’m not at the hospital again until tomorrow – well, today. But I still need my rest.

The problem is, it’s impossible to think about sleep when I know Callie is in my apartment, a one-minute walk away. I can’t stop thinking about stalking through the night and lurking outside her room, pressing my ear against her door and listening to the sounds of her breathing.

Standing over her bed, everything inside of me heaving and taunt, ready to take what’s rightfully mine.

“What are you doing?” she’d whimper.

I’d lean down and grab her by the hips, spinning her over to get a look at that delicious round ass. Pulling down her shorts would be like entering a dream, drinking in the sight of those luscious juicy ass cheeks. And then falling to my knees and running my hands over them, kissing up the inside of her thigh, toward her hole, and…

I grip the edge of the table and let out a shaky breath, warning myself to calm down before I snap and charge in there. I feel my control slipping just at the thought of her, but something feels off.

Maybe it’s this offensive pink bundle in front of me. The only reason I’m keeping it is so I can hand it to my private investigator, just one more piece of evidence in the never-ending stream. I should’ve taken a photograph of it on the door handle – that’s what I’d normally do – but I couldn’t risk my Callie seeing it.

My cell phone vibrates from the table, distracting me from my thoughts. It’s Tommy, my best friend and a man I’ve known since we were in medical school together. He must just be finishing his shift. He knows I’ll sleep through his calls when my phone’s on vibrate mode – but that I’ll pick up if I happen to be awake.

“What’s up?” I say, answering.

“Hey, man,” he says. “Just thought I’d see if you want to come down to the Hound.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “You’re going for a drink now?”

“Hey, the night’s young in my part of town, Conrad. So what do you say?”

“I can’t,” I murmur, unable to hide the emotion in my voice. “I’ve got… visitors.”

It seems strange to describe Callie as merely a visitor when in reality she’s so much more. She’s the woman I’ve been waiting my whole life for, the woman I’ve been dreaming of, but never truly believed I’d meet.

“You’ve got visitors?” Tommy says, laughing. “That’s a new one. Who?”

I think about telling him to mind his own business, but Tommy and I are close. We came up together and though we work in different hospitals, we talk a lot and I share most things with him.

So I tell him about the crazy night I’ve had, about Callie crashing into me and going to her apartment, about the kiss, the standoff with those pricks, and how now she and her mother are staying with me.

Tommy is silent for a moment when I’m done, and then he lets out a long breath. “Jesus Christ, Conrad, that sounds insane. Why did you invite them to stay? I’ve never known you to play the Good Samaritan. I mean, I know you give way too damn much money to charity and you’re always generous with your time, but this? What’s next, you going to open your doors to any homeless person off the street?”

“I need her, Tommy,” I growl, realizing how insane it sounds when I say it aloud.

“Huh?”

“You know how I sometimes talk about settling down one day, but I’ve never found the right woman?”

“Yeah, and I tell you to be more like me and find the right women, plural.”

I shake my head, even if he can’t see me. That’s not the life for me and it never has been, but Tommy’s only joking. He knows that I’ve never been much of a play-the-field type of guy.

“Do you think this Callie, is the one?”

I swallow as a dark fire rushes through me, and possessiveness grips me. I know it’ll seem completely bat-shit to Tommy, but it’s real.

I can’t deny it.

“Yes,” I growl. “I can’t explain it, but the second I saw her, everything fell into place. It’s like I didn’t have to wonder about the future anymore. It’s all laid out for me, carved into damn stone. Is any of this making sense to you?”

Tommy chuckles. “No, Conrad, no it isn’t. But I know you. Once you set your mind on something – like becoming the best damn surgeon in the country – you don’t stop until you get it. What are you going to do?

“There’s something else. She left me another gift. On my door handle this time.”

“Fucking hell.” Tommy’s rage is palpable and alive through the phone. “How does that factor into all of this?”

“I don’t know. Should I tell Callie before I do anything?”

“You mean, anything more than kissing her?”

“Yeah.”

Tommy sighs. “I don’t know. Maybe. I’m way out of my depth here, man.”

“I know. Me too.” I laugh drily. “Anyway, have fun at the bar.”

“Keep me posted, Conrad.”

“Will do. Speak later.”

I hang up and walk into the kitchen, grabbing a paper towel and returning to the balcony. I wrap the pink underwear in the towel, doing my best not to touch it, not to be near it. I don’t want anything to do with it.

Once I’ve placed it in a drawer in the living room – out of sight – I decide it’s probably time to get some sleep. Or at least try to get some sleep. I know it’s going to be difficult with thoughts of Callie whirring around my mind.

I walk down the hallway toward my bedroom, passing Mrs. Simpkin’s room – even if she asked me to call her Janet, it’s difficult to let my manners go completely – which is silent.

Then I walk by Callie’s room and something freezes inside of me.

Is she moaning in there?

Stalking forward, I press my ear against the door and listen intently. Through the thick wood, I can hear her voice raised in a lilting tenor, dancing in the air. It’s like she’s trying to stay quiet, but she can’t help herself.

“Oh, oh, oh.”

She moans, each oh sending a shot of lust right to the base of my length, my manhood pulsing and burning with the desire to charge in there.

“Oh, oh, ah, ah.”

Her voice raises in pitch and suddenly my hand is sliding down my body, toward my groin, my engorged head pushing against my pants like it’s trying to break the zipper.

I swallow as I curl my hand into a fist, telling myself I can’t do this, I can’t touch myself over her without her knowing.

But there’s no damn way I can walk away now, not after hearing her voice filled with so much lust.

I know I should wait because I won’t be able to stop myself once I start. I won’t be able to keep from tearing off her clothes and taking her like the savage I am, and I haven’t even told her everything yet.

I haven’t told her about the mess with the little surprise outside my door. I haven’t told her how much she means to me, what she means to me, how I’m going to claim her every day for the rest of our lives.

But none of that matters.

My seed is shooting through me with savage intent, commanding me to take her, take her now.

I push the door open.