Two Holidays, One Sin

Callie's POV

I felt his warm hands on me again, claiming me roughly. My back arched, and a gasp tore from my lips as his mouth closed around my nipple.

He was slow yet deliberate, like he wanted to memorise the way I trembled beneath him. His wicked tongue was circling and teasing my nipple. One hand pinned my wrist above my head and the other...

"Dominic," I breathed.

A groan escaped his lips like he was in pain. Or bliss. Maybe both. His lips moved lower, trailing heat over my skin, while his fingers were driving me insane as they slid deeper.

Just as I felt the pressure inside me tighten and was ready to snap, the sharp ring of my phone shattered everything.

I jerked upright in bed, my chest heaving. My thigh was wet and my heart was pounding harder. But I still could feel his touch on my skin. The ache that pulsed between my legs wasn't from sleep.

"Jesus," I whispered, pushing my hair back. Another dream again.

My cheeks burned as I stared into the ceiling, reliving the moment. That made it four nights in a row this week. I hated that he haunted me like this.

It had been years since I left London. Years since I'd tried to bury what I felt for him. I'd tried to grow up, date, move on and pretend I didn't see him every time I closed my eyes.

But Dominic Bennett was like a thorn in my flesh that I couldn't remove. And I was bleeding from it.

FEW HOURS LATER

By the time I stepped off the train in London, my numb hands in the cold dragged my heavy suitcase, while my steps were slow.

I was exhausted physically, emotionally and in every way that mattered. The cold slapped me hard as I hauled my suitcase through the terminal. The bitter wind bit through my coat.

Christmas decorations were in every corner of the terminal. People jostled around, with winter boots and jackets.

I hadn't planned to come back. Even if I had, not like this. But after losing my job, a failed relationship and my apartment lease all in one month, I didn't have much choice.

My parents had already gone abroad to be with my sister after her delivery, leaving me the house. They had begged me to join them in Paris, but I couldn't. I told them I needed the quirt.

But truthfully? I needed to fall apart somewhere familiar.

The house was silent when I got there. Dropping my bags, I stood in the hallway, looking at the framed photos that hadn't changed. My smile in them looked fuller and brighter. I didn't feel like that girl anymore.

The doorbell rang before I could fully settle. Before I could open it, the door flew open. My eyes flew open when I saw the person standing before me.

"Jenna?" I blinked hard. "What...?"

"My parents said you'd be alone." She grinned and pulled me into a tight hug.

Jenna and I have been friends since elementary school up to high school. She's my best friend, who's family. So she refers to my parents as hers.

"I'm your Christmas kidnapping ride. Come on, you're staying with me."

"What? No... I was just going to rest here and..." I tried to turn her down when I knew it wouldn't work. Jenna and my dad are the only people in my life who don't take no for an answer.

"Nope." She held up her keys. "I already promised your mom. "You're not sulking through the holidays by yourself."

I hesitated. "What about your dad?" I asked, sounding like I didn't really care.

"Work trip. He might not even make it back before New Year's. It's just you and me." she replied, waving it off.

Before I could say another word, Jenna pulled my suitcases out of the house, leaving me with no choice than to follow her.

The ride to her house was, as usual, chaotic. She kept talking about work, her ex-boyfriends, her current relationship, and how she was crushing on a new female colleague at work.

I just kept nodding as she spoke, I was used to it. And that's why I love her. She's just a contrast to me. I'm the shy, quiet person, while she was the sociable person who has tried to bring me out of my shell.

The moment I stepped into her house, I felt the heavy air and familiar warmth together with old memories I have always tried to forget.

I was about to follow her when I turned and saw him. Dominic Bennett, tall, broad, his sleeves rolled up. His phone in his ear like he was on a call. Then he looked up.

It felt like time stopped. My heart missed a beat, then sprinted. Even the air in the room got thicker.

Every dream I'd ever tried to bury came rushing back violently. His gaze met mine, it was steady and unreadable. And I felt something unknown pass between us.

"Callie," he called slowly.

My name had never sounded like that before. And in that moment, I knew one thing with terrifying certainty.

Coming home had been a mistake.

Callie's POV

His voice landed on me like a hand pressing against my chest. I hadn't realised how shallow my breathing had become until that single word made my lungs burn.

I swallowed, forcing myself to respond and act as if everything was normal. To act like I wasn't standing in front of the man who had lived far too vividly in my dreams.

"H... hi," I managed to say after finding my voice and it came out thinner than I intended.

Beside me, Jenna remained completely unaware of the silent war that was erupting inside my head.

"Dad, what are you doing home ready? I thought your work trip wasn't ending till after Christmas."

He turned fully toward us, lowering his phone to his side. For one second, I thought I saw something flicker across his face. First, it was recognition, then something darker. But it was gone as it came, replaced by the calm, unreadable mask I knew too well.

"It got cancelled," he said evenly. "Last minute."

Jenna groaned. "Ugh, well. At least you're home."

She turned, grabbing my arm excitedly. "Anyway..." she turned to him, grinning, completely oblivious to the way my pulse was trying to claw out of my throat.

"Callie's staying with us for Christmas. Her parents travelled, and there's no way I was letting her sit alone feeling miserable."

Staying with him. Ohh, no! I could feel my stomach tighten. His gaze flicked back to me. It wasn't soft nor hungry. It felt like he was searching me.

"That's okay with you?" She asked.

"Of course," he said after a while. "You're welcome to stay, Callie." His tone was polite, controlled, yet distant.

Immediately, I nodded. "Thank you." My voice sounded like I had borrowed it.

Jenna dragged me upstairs before anything else could be said while her energy was bouncing off the walls like it always had. She was chattering about how everything had changed and nothing had changed at the same time.

The house smelled the same. Warm, clean, with a hint of coffee and wood polish. She showed me to a spare room, close enough to her dad's room and it made my stomach tighten uncomfortably.

"You'll take this one," she said, tossing my suitcase onto the bed. "I'd let you stay with me, but..." She lowered her voice, grinning.

"I sneak my boyfriend in. A lot. My father would be mad if he ever found out."

One of my hands covered my mouth as I laughed in silence. I was grateful for the normalcy. Jenna was still being her.

"You're still reckless," I teased in a low tone.

"And you're still boring," she shot back. "God, I missed you."

We talked for a while, about everything and nothing. We talked about her job, my failed relationship. The way life had been cruel to me.

But as evening settled in I was hyperaware of the house. The sound of Dominic moving around downstairs. The low murmur of his voice on a call and the way the house seemed smaller than it used to be.

So I stayed in my room. Scrolling, unpacking and staring at the ceiling. I wanted to do anything but think about how close he was.

After midnight, my throat was dry and burning. I'd been thirty for a while, but didn't leave because I heard his movements around the house.

Forcing myself out of bed, I left my room. The hallway was dim and quiet, and I could hear my own footsteps. Pulling Jenna's oversized hoodie tighter around myself, I padded into the kitchen.

I had just poured myself a glass of water when the light suddenly went off.

"Oh, come on," I whispered.

I stood smothered, blinking into the sudden darkness, and listening to the faint hum of the house. I had just found my way to the counter when I heard footsteps behind me.

The moment I turned, I walked straight into a solid chest. A terrified gasp left my throat as I yelped and water sloshed everywhere. The glass slipped from my hand shattering against the floor.

"Oh shit," a voice said at the same time as mine.

Dominic. His hands came up instinctively, steadying me by my arms.

Immediately, I felt heat bloom through the thin fabric of the hoodie where he touched me.

"I didn't know anyone was in here," he said quickly. "The power tripped. I came to check it."

"It's... It's fine," I said, stuttering, though my heart was pounding violently. "I was just getting water."

"Careful," he said softly. "There's glass."

He retrieved his hand from my arm, letting go of me just as fast as he'd touched me, then he stepped back. The absence of his warmth felt louder than the contact itself.

"I'll clean it," I added too quickly and my voice wavered as I gestured to the broken glass.

"I've got it." He countered, reaching for a towel. "Don't move. You'll get yourself hurt."

I stood there and watched him crouch, bare feet on the cold tile. Even in the low light, I could see the muscles on his shoulders flex as he moved. For some unknown reason, it made my chest ache.

Just like that, the silence between us became so tight and without thinking my mouth opened.

"I can help." The words fell out of my mouth before I could swallow them.

He paused his action and glanced up. "You're sure?"

I nodded, holding up my phone. "Torch."

Our fingers brushed as he reached out for it. The moment his fingers brushed mine, the world narrowed.

It wasn't dramatic. It wasn't deliberate.

It felt like my body recognised him before my mind could catch up. A sharp inhale caught in my chest.

I hadn't realised how tense I was until that single touch loosened something deep inside me, something I'd spent years locking away.

My pulse thudded loudly in my ears, and suddenly I was painfully aware of how close he was. Too close. Close enough that I could feel the heat coming off his skin.

His hand stilled around my phone. For a second, neither of us moved.

The torchlight trembled slightly in my grip, casting shadows over his bare chest, over the familiar lines of him I knew too well. Lines my dreams had memorised with cruel accuracy.

"Callie," he said quietly.

There was restraint in his voice. Like he was careful, and standing on the edge of something and choosing not to step forward.

That was what broke me. I pulled my hand back as if I'd been burned.

"I.. I think I should go."

My voice didn't sound like mine.

He straightened slowly, giving me space, but his eyes didn't leave my face.

"You don't have to," he said, softer now. "It was an accident."

"I do," I interrupted, shaking my head. If I stayed one more second, I knew I'd do something reckless. Something honest.

"I'll... clean up. You can... You can finish." The words barely made sense, but I turned anyway, fleeing before he could say anything else.

I could feel his gaze on my back as I walked away. Heavy. Unavoidable.

When I reached my room and closed the door behind me, my legs finally gave out. I leaned against the wood, pressing a hand to my chest as I struggled to breathe.

That touch, that single, accidental touch, had done more damage than all my dreams combined.

And I knew, with sinking certainty, that Dominic had felt it too.

Callie's POV

I jerked upright, lungs heaving, my heart was racing heavy and suffocating. My heart slammed so hard against my ribs it felt like it might crack something open.

For a moment, I didn't know where I was, only that my body felt overheated, restless, like it had been running from something it hadn't escaped.

I pressed my palm to my chest, breathing through it.

Not again. The dream slipped away the moment I tried to hold it, leaving behind only sensations of heat, closeness, the echo of a voice saying my name like it was something precious.

I squeezed my eyes shut, groaning softly. I hadn't slept until almost dawn. Every time I closed my eyes, my mind dragged me back to the kitchen. The darkness. The broken glass. His hand brushing mine like it wasn't an accident.

"Dominic," I muttered under my breath.

I stared at the ceiling, listening to the quiet hum of the house waking up around me. Doors were opening downstairs. Footsteps echoing around the house. Of course, he was awake.

I lay there longer than necessary, debating whether hunger outweighed the dread that had settled deep in my stomach.

Just then, my stomach answered for me with an irritated growl.

"Traitor," I muttered, throwing the blanket off.

I showered quickly, avoiding my reflection longer than usual. When I finally caught sight of myself, I barely recognised the girl staring back.

Tired eyes with slight shadows beneath them. A woman who looked like she'd slept badly and thought too much.

I pulled on jeans and a leather sweater, it was snowing heavily outside. I inhaled slowly, trying to steady my breath, and went downstairs.

The smell of coffee hit me first. Then laughter, with Jenna's loud and unfiltered voice.

"...and then he dared to ask if I was 'emotionally available,'" she was saying. "Sir, you forgot my birthday twice."

I stepped into the kitchen just as Dominic slid a plate onto the counter. My steps faltered. He'd made pancakes.

He stood at the gas cooker, his sleeves rolled up, and his hair was slightly messy, like he'd run a hand through it too many times. He looked... normal and domestic.

But my heart flipped, disagreeing.

"Morning," Jenna chirped when she saw me. "You look like you fought sleep and lost."

"Accurate," I replied, my voice dry.

Then he turned, his eyes met mine for a fraction of a second too long. And I felt the previously unknown connection pass through both of us.

His jaw tightened almost unnoticeably before he looked away.

"Good morning, Callie," he greeted, his tone soft and careful.

"Morning," I replied, hoping my voice didn't betray me.

Jenna slid into the seat beside me. "Dad decided to play the domestic hero today. I didn't even know he knew where the flour was."

"I've lived here for years," he said, deadpan.

"Emotionally, though?" she teased.

I snorted before I could stop myself. And both of them looked at me. Heat rushed to my cheeks.

"Sorry. That just... came out."

Dominic's mouth twitched. Just barely. It was worse than a smile.

Breakfast was surprisingly normal. Jenna talked. A lot about work. About her boyfriend. About how Callie from high school would never believe she voluntarily woke up before ten.

"I blame adulthood," she said, stabbing her pancake. "It's a scam."

Dominic poured coffee into my mug without asking.

Of course, I noticed.

"Thanks," I said softly.

"You're welcome."

Our fingers didn't touch. I was aware of the space between us, as if it were charged.

At some point, Jenna's phone buzzed.

"Ugh, I have to take this. If it's my boss, I'm quitting."

She hopped up, groaning, and disappeared down the hallway, still muttering.

Silence dropped into the kitchen like a held breath.

But I focused on my plate.

"So," I said, because silence felt heavier. "The power last night..."

"Yes," Dominic replied quickly. "I fixed it. Old wiring. It should be fine now."

"Good," I nodded. "Sorry about the... glass."

"Don't apologise." He paused. "You weren't hurt?"

"No," I replied, shaking my head.

Then there was another pause.

"Good."

I decided to risk a glance up. And he was watching me now, openly, like he'd decided pretending wasn't working. His expression wasn't soft, but it wasn't cold either. It was something restrained and controlled.

"About last night," he said quietly. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

The word landed heavier than it should have. Uncomfortable?

"No," I said too fast. Taking a deep breath, I slowed. "I mean, no. It was just... unexpected."

His eyes searched my face like he was trying to study the lines on my face.

"You're okay, right?" He asked.

The question almost undid me. "I'm fine," I lied.

He nodded once, like he accepted the answer even if he didn't believe it.

Jenna returned moments later, mercifully loud. "False alarm. Crisis postponed."

The rest of the morning passed in fragments. I helped Jenna clear the table. Dominic retreated to his home office.

Around noon, a soft curse echoed from the hallway.

Jenna poked her head out of the living room.

"Dad?"

"The hallway light's acting up again," Dominic said. "It's flickering."

"Old house problem," Jenna added, rolling her eyes. She turned to me. "Callie, you good if I disappear for a bit? I'm meeting Sam."

"Yeah, I'll be," I said quickly. "You can go."

She grinned. "Don't miss you too much."

When the door closed behind her, the house felt quieter than before. Dominic stood at the base of the stairs, toolbox in hand.

"I should fix it before it gets dark."

"I can help," I blurted out, before thinking.

He looked surprised. Then his expression turned thoughtful. "All right," he said. "Hold the light?"

We stood in the narrow hallway, closer than necessary. I held my phone up while he adjusted the switch plate, his arm brushing the wall beside my head.

I could smell him. He smelt of soap, coffee with an edge of woodsy scent.

My pulse skidded.

"Is this okay?" he asked, glancing back. He was talking about the light while I thought he was referring to our closeness.

"Yeah."

The light flickered once, then steadied.

"There," he said softly. "That should..." His elbow bumped mine as he stepped back.

My breath stopped. His hand lifted instinctively, hovering near my waist before he stopped himself like he'd hit an invisible wall.

Then he leaned closer. Not too close enough to touch. Just enough that I felt him everywhere.

His warm, undeniable presence filled the space between us.

I could feel my heartbeat in my throat, my chest, my fingertips.

Suddenly, the hallway felt too small and quiet, like the world had narrowed down to the inch separating us. My breath hitched.

I didn't know who moved first. Or if anyone did at all. I only knew that it felt inevitable. Like something that had been waiting patiently for years had finally decided to surface.

I tilted my chin up, my lips parted without permission. And then I closed my eyes. For one reckless, hopeful second, I let myself believe he was going to kiss me.

When I opened them, he was staring at me. He wasn't angry or shocked. He was just looking at me. I saw it in his eyes, everything I wasn't supposed to want.