The space between them disappeared in an instant. Dave's fingers slid from her wrist to her hand, his touch burning through her skin. Callie should've stepped back, should've created distance, but she didn't. Instead, she let herself get lost in the weight of his stare, in the way his breath hitched just slightly before he leaned in.
And then, he kissed her.
It wasn't soft or hesitant—it was full of restrained urgency, as if he'd been holding himself back for too long and had finally decided to let go. Callie melted into him, her body pressing against his as his hands found her waist, pulling her closer. The warmth of his lips, the scent of him—clean, masculine, with a hint of the sea breeze—sent shivers down her spine.
Everything happened so fast. One moment, she was catching her breath from the kiss, and the next, they were stumbling into his room, hands roaming, mouths meeting over and over again. Dave's jacket hit the floor first, followed by Callie's light cover-up. His fingers traced the bare skin of her shoulders, sending waves of heat down her spine.
"Are you sure?" he murmured against her lips, his breath heavy with restraint.
Callie's answer was in the way she pulled him back in, her nails digging into his shoulders. "Yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible between their kisses.
Their bodies found the bed, and everything else faded. The tension that had been building for months finally snapped, leaving only raw desire in its place. Callie let herself get lost in him, in the way he moved, the way he whispered her name like it meant something.
Dave's mouth traveled down her neck, tracing slow, heated kisses along her collarbone before moving lower. His touch was fire against her skin, sending electric jolts through every nerve ending. Callie arched into him, gasping as he claimed every inch of her with an intensity that left her breathless.
His name fell from her lips, a desperate plea that fueled his hunger. He pushed her further into the mattress, their bodies moving in sync, lost in a rhythm of their own. Every touch, every whisper, every stolen gasp built into something overwhelming, something neither of them could stop.
The night stretched on, filled with tangled sheets and quiet gasps, stolen kisses and unspoken promises neither of them dared to voice.
At some point, Callie found herself staring at the ceiling, her breath uneven as Dave traced slow, lazy circles on her bare skin. He didn't speak, and neither did she. There were no words that could explain whatever had just happened between them.
As the first light of morning crept through the curtains, reality began to settle in. The warmth of Dave's body next to hers, the soft rise and fall of his breathing—everything was still and peaceful. But the moment couldn't last.
Callie carefully slipped out from under the sheets, holding her breath as she retrieved her clothes scattered across the floor. Her heart pounded as she dressed quietly, casting one last glance at Dave before slipping out of the room and making her way back to her own.
As she shut the door behind her, she let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding.
She had crossed a line she couldn't uncross.