Crashing into Love: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Read online

  “It doesn’t matter. I can pay for the damages.”

  He sighs darkly. “What’s your name?”

  “Callie,” I tell him. “Callie Simpkins.”

  “Nice to meet you, Callie.” He reaches across and offers me his hand. “I’m Conrad Cage.”

  I stare at his large strong hand for a moment, wondering what it would feel like to be grabbed by a hand like that, for him to squeeze down on my thigh and then drag it up toward my sex.

  I’m standing here like a doofus, staring at him. I quickly take his hand and shake it.

  Freaking heck.

  Is he made out of pure electricity or something?

  A sizzle travels up my arm, making my heartbeat thunder with savage speed inside my chest, a drumming I can barely control. I swallow as we shake, daring to look up at him, to check if he’s feeling the same unbelievable spark I am.

  But he looks grim, eyebrows low, mouth twisted into something like a grimace… but is that a smirk I detect at the corner of his mouth, trying to change his grimace into something else?

  “Conrad Cage,” I murmur, letting my hand drop. “It sounds like a superhero’s name or something.”

  He shrugs. “Maybe it does. But I’m no hero. Listen, Callie, I need to get to work. Why don’t you give me your details and we can iron this out later?”

  “What details?” I murmur.

  His eyes gleam like moonlight. It’s impossible to read the shifting emotions in them. “Your address. I could swing by when I’m done.”

  My heart pounds even faster, sending tingling sensations all over my body. My skin feels ultra sensitive and my nipples graze roughly against my bra, sending so many shuddering inducing through me it’s difficult to handle.

  “What time do you get off work?” I ask, struggling to keep my voice under control.

  “Around midnight. Is that going to be a problem?”

  I look past him, at the scuffed paintwork, the dented metal.

  Is this some sort of game, to punish me for what I did to his car? Maybe he’s going to gather up a bunch of his friends and teepee our place or something. Or maybe he’s going to smash through the door in a ski mask, roaring at us to hand over everything we’ve got.

  It just doesn’t make sense. Why would he want to see me again so soon when it looks like he hates me.

  “Don’t worry.” He finally smirks. “I’m not going to hurt you. But we need to deal with this, and I haven’t got the time right now. So?”

  Something tightens inside me, a needy deep place, buried in my belly. For a crazy absurd moment, I think it’s my womb, sending me insane signals through my body, telling me to give myself to this man so we can be together, have babies, start a family.

  I push away the thoughts and nod and shake my head – both at the same time, as indecision and uncertainty swirl through me.

  “Okay, okay,” I say. “I’ll give you my address. And then we’ll get this all dealt with.”

  He reaches into his pocket and takes out his phone, unlocks it, and hands it to me. As I take it, our fingers brush. That sparking feeling strikes me again. It climbs up my arm, into my chest, causing warmth to blossom and spread.

  “Put it in a memo file,” he says. “It should be on the homepage.”

  I find the app and let my eyes scan over the other entries. It’s a long list of surgeries, bypasses, and reconstructions, and a bunch of terms I don’t recognize.

  “Are you a surgeon?” I ask once I’ve put in my address.

  He nods, taking the phone back. This time our fingers don’t touch. I can’t decide if I’m relieved or disappointed.

  “Yes, I am. Which is why I need to go right now. But first, you need to tell me something.”

  He steps forward, so close I can smell his aftershave. Or is that just how he smells, manly and musky and compelling?

  I fight the urge to reach up and dig my fingernails into his shoulders.

  “What?” I whisper.

  “The address you gave me, Callie. Was it your real one? It’s very, very important that it is. Because I can’t risk losing you.”

  A whimper escapes me.

  Losing me…

  “Because of the car,” I say.

  I can’t let myself hope and dream it could possibly be anything else.

  His jaw tightens, and again that light takes possession of his wolfish eyes. “Yes, because of the car.”

  “It’s my real address. I promise.”

  He nods, turning toward his BMW. “Good. See you at midnight.”

  He climbs in and drives away, the rear of the vehicle rattling a little where something has come loose. I stare at him, hardly believing what just happened, and then my gaze drifts over to my car. It was already a wreck before. Now it’s a complete mess.

  Pulling out my cell phone, I dread the call I’m going to have to make. While Conrad’s car had a little scuffing on it, my bumper looks like it’s going to fall off. There’s no way I can risk driving it and getting a ticket, or arrested, or whatever the heck happens when you drive a piece of junk that’s falling apart around the city.

  I’m going to have to call my boss, which means he’s probably going to fire me, leaving me and my mom unable to pay our rent.

  And yet, despite this oncoming hell, I can’t help but smile when I think about Conrad Cage, our fingers brushing, electricity sparkling inside me.

  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 ja
mmed 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.”

  Chapter Four

  Callie

  I stare in disbelief at the man, vaguely recognizing him from one of the other parties my neighbor – Todd – has held over the past few months, ever since we moved here. The man who broke down the door is tall and wide, looking like a bodybuilder, probably using the steroids that Todd sells out of his apartment.

  Todd swaggers forward and throws his arm around his friend. Todd is even taller, wider, swollen with his own steroid use.

  “Jesus, man, that was really something.” Todd chuckles, his glazed eyes lighting up for a moment. “I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

  My eyes scan the people in the hallway. I can make out three men and two women, all of them clearly drunk and high, swigging from bottles and laughing as they stare at the scene.

  Rage whelms up inside of me, touching every part of me, electricity pricking and surging up and down my body. I try to tell myself to calm down, but before I know it I’m striding forward, aiming my finger at them.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I hiss, stopping just short of them, so close I can smell the smoke and liquor. “You can’t just break in here. You can’t just—”

  “Relax, you silly slut.” Todd cackles and his cronies laugh behind him. “I can make it up to you. You’re not really my type, but if I can get my hands on something I’m sure I can make you feel real special.”

  Suddenly Conrad is at my side.

  I look at him and a confusing feeling surges through me, longing and lust and the need to climb into his embr
ace and never leave, to lay my head against his chest and listen to his heartbeat and do nothing else, think about nothing else, forever.

  It’s a crazy urge to be having right now, amidst this mayhem, but it persists nonetheless.

  You’re not paying for the damn car, he said.

  And he said he’d buy me a new car.

  Why the heck would he do that? And why is he so angry right now, his jaw ticking, his blue eyes blazing. His fists are clenched and his whole body pulses in his blue shirt, every part of him hard and ready for battle.

  “Apologize and leave,” he snarls.

  Todd steps back, tilting his head, as his friends laugh at Conrad’s words. “Easy there, old man. Don’t do anything stupid.”

  I almost scream when he calls Conrad an old man.

  Conrad’s age – his steel hair and his mature bearing – makes him so much more appealing to me. He’s nothing like Todd or his stupid friends, a bunch of twenty-something lowlifes who think partying makes them better than everybody else.

  “Apologize. And. Fucking. Leave.”

  There’s no fear in Conrad’s voice, no uncertainty. It’s like he’s channeling something from deep inside of him, a primal energy.

  But there are so many more of them, all of them as muscular as Conrad, even if I’m certain they gained their muscles through using Todd’s steroids.

  “Or what?” Todd snaps. “Eh? What the fuck are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to beat you all until you can’t walk.” Conrad takes a step forward, his tone dead serious, unflinching. “I’m going to make it so you can’t remember what it’s like to be able to breathe properly. I’m going to fucking break you.”

  “Yeah?” Todd laughs, but there’s a shiver in it now, as though part of him can’t help but take Conrad’s words seriously. “Now that I would pay to see.”

  Conrad chuckles, but there’s no humor in it. He sounds like a man ready to commit serious damage. “You don’t get to talk to Callie like that. Nobody gets to talk to her like that.”

  Heat blossoms and fills my belly, spreading and moving through me as though powered by effusive light. I can’t help but let a smile quirk my lips, despite the circumstances, despite the danger.