Crashing into Love by Flora Ferrari
Chapter Three
Conrad
I sit outside the rundown apartment block, a heavy drumbeat inside me as I take in the degradation of the building. I might not be the sort of man who places massive importance on my wealth, but when I set eyes on where my woman is living, I can’t help but think about taking her somewhere better, cleaner, somewhere befitting my queen.
Chuckling, I shake my head and sit back, letting out a long breath.
My woman?
How the hell am I thinking of her in those terms so quickly?
Maybe she didn’t give me her correct address and this will end in an anticlimax, with me knocking on some innocent person’s door who has no clue who I am.
But somehow I know she gave me the right address.
It’s been torture trying not to think about her all evening, as I focused on the unconscious patients on my table, switched off my feelings and my thoughts, and becoming a machine, focused only on my work.
In the breaks in between my surgeries, my mind flooded with the way she looked standing in the alleyway, her eyes wide and innocent and oh-so-ready to shudder as orgasms coursed through her. When I stood close to her, it took every shred of effort I possessed not to lunge at her, wrap my arms around her hips and pull her right up against me.
I was savage with my desire, a beast slamming against my chest, roaring at me to break free and claim her right that second.
Holding myself back was the hardest thing I’d ever done. But I had to.
What would she think if I just lunged at her – a complete stranger, a man she undoubtedly thought was angry with her?
She would probably have turned and run, shock in her eyes.
And yet…
Am I really going to pretend I didn’t notice the way her eyes skirted over me, the same way mine moved over her? Am I really going to act like I didn’t feel her needy body calling out for me, the same way mine roared out for hers?
I need to grab those curvy hips and drive myself deep, deeper, until I’m buried to the hilt and her young fertile body has no choice but to get pregnant.
I laugh again, grimmer this time.
Maybe Dad’s going to get his wish after all. I’ve had one conversation with my Callie and already I’m thinking about kids.
Reminding myself I’m supposed to be here to deal with the payment for the car’s damages, I climb from the BMW and head toward her apartment building.
Hers is number twenty-four, but all the numbers on the keypad are faded. I begin counting them and then glance at the door.
Of course, it’s broken, the lock jammed into the unlocked position, resting against the frame. I pull it open and stalk through the lobby. It reeks of piss and there’s graffiti on the walls.
My woman should not be living here.
The elevator’s busted – of course – so I take the stairs two at a time, a strange feeling leaping up inside of me. It’s like the predator in me is howling, telling me to get up there before something bad happens to her.
But what?
I don’t know.
All I can say for sure is Callie shouldn’t be here, in a place like this. She deserves so much more. She deserves the world. I knew that the second I laid eyes on her.
Finally, I get to her floor.
Music pumps from one of the apartments, the door propped open, loud and obnoxious laughter reaching me. As I get closer, I see it’s the apartment directly next to Callie’s.
It’s goddamn midnight, and these assholes are acting like they’re at a rave.
I stalk over to her apartment door and slam my fist against it. I don’t mean to knock like I’m trying to break it down, but there’s so much tension inside me, a whole torrent of it.
It’s like a volcano has busted open inside of me, spewing lava and heat.
I remind myself again that I’m supposed to be here to discuss the car. As far as my woman knows—No, not my woman.
As far as Callie knows I’m here to collect payment for the crash, to get her insurance details, not to slide my hands down her curvy body and squeeze onto her hips, not to pull us together so she can feel my manhood pushing against her, burning with the need to put a baby inside of her…
My thoughts trail off when she pulls the door open, standing there in a baggy black T-shirt and shorts. The T-shirt falls all the way down to the bottom of the shorts, making it seem almost like she’s wearing nothing underneath.
The beast inside of me howls as I fight the urge to snap my gaze to her legs, to drink in the thick beauty of them. They were made for grabbing, for squeezing, for possessing. They were made for sinking my fingers into as I whisper filthy words in her ear, telling her she’s going to be mine.
Forever.
“Uh, hello?” she says, when I just stand there like a weirdo, staring at her.
I smirk to push away the awkwardness. “Hello, Callie.”
She steps aside, waving a hand. The corridor is narrow, dark, the only light flickering from candles set on the counter. “Do you want to come in?”
I nod and walk forward, gesturing to the room in general. “What happened to your lights?”
“Just the cherry on top of this crappy day, I guess,” she says, closing the door behind me. “The power company shut off our electricity.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s what happens when you don’t pay your bills.”
She brushes by me, her breasts caressing my side. I have to clench my fists to stop from leaping on her and squeezing those large fuck-me tits, from caressing them until her whole body is a riot of tingles and she can’t deny that she feels it too.
She has to feel it, otherwise, I’ll go insane.
Goddamn, what am I going to do if she doesn’t feel the same? How am I going to be able to live with the thought of another man claiming her?
I won’t be able to. I’ll end up turning into a complete savage, hunting down any bastard who dares to touch my woman and make him pay.
“Try to be quiet, please,” Callie whispers as we walk down the corridor into the small living room. “Mom’s sleeping.”
It’s cramped, the walls almost pushed together, but clean and well-kept. A dark sadness washes over me as I take in the room, making me want to grab her and pull her out of here as fast as I can.
“Quiet?” I laugh gruffly as music pounds through the thin walls, as more obnoxious voices fill the air. “Nothing could be louder than those assholes.”
She sighs, folding her arms, and stands on the other side of the couch. It’s like she knows she has to put an obstacle between us or I won’t be able to control myself.
“I guess you’re right. It’s so freaking annoying, isn’t it? But they won’t stop, no matter how much the other residents and I complain. The police don’t seem to care about this neighborhood. But…”
“What?” I growl, taking a step forward.
Her eyes glimmer with tears. But then she bravely forces them back, swallowing and nodding shortly, as though trying to convince herself of something. “I can still pay you for the car.”
“What happened to your car?”
“I had to leave it there and walk home. My boss fired me because I couldn’t make tonight’s deliveries. And then there was the power. But none of that’s your problem, of course.”
Pride grips her features, the desire to handle this herself blazing across her eyes, her full cheeks flushed. It’s the sort of pride that tells me she’s going to make an incredible mother, always doing her best to provide for our children, no matter the circumstances.
I glance at the closed door behind her, presumably her mother’s room, and then look around the tiny apartment. There’s an adjoined kitchen area and a bathroom, but I don’t see another bedroom.
“Where do you sleep?”
She taps the back of the couch. “Right here. Well, until they kick us out. Can we discuss a payment plan for the car?”
“You’re not paying for the damn car,” I growl. “Not a single cent. I’ll handle it. And I’ll get your car towed. Or I’ll destroy it and get you a new one. Fucking hell, Callie, you shouldn’t be living in a place like this.”
She gasps and her mouth hangs open for a few moments, time seeming to stretch. “Why do you care where I live?”
“Because…”
I try to stop myself from blurting it out, from telling her the truth, from telling her she belongs to me now.
But I can’t.
It’s like my seed is sending messages through my body. As insane as that thought is, I can’t fight it.
I can’t pretend otherwise.
“Because I need—”
Suddenly the apartment door slams open behind me, the wood cracking as the flimsy lock breaks.
I turn swiftly, adrenalin coursing through my body, to find a man standing there with a stupid look on his face. People fill the doorway behind him, laughing and swigging from bottles.
“Told ya I’d do it,” the man says, turning to his friends. “You owe me five bucks, Todd.”
