Bite by Deborah Castellano Page A

preventing her from entering Jacob’s home. It’d been a while since she’d seen or spoken to him, but he’d never been far from her thoughts. The thought of seeing him, even if he couldn’t see her, made her sick to her stomach. She began to wonder if coming here had been a bad idea.
    Of course, all of this was completely irrelevant if he wasn’t home, but as Caitlyn drew closer to the house, she could see him through the front window. He was pacing up and down his living room, his mobile phone clamped to his ear.
    Caitlyn, though, barely registered that Jacob was on the telephone. She was much more interested in what he was wearing. Or, more specifically, what he wasn’t wearing. He looked like he’d just got out of the shower. He was topless, and his dark jeans hung low on his hips. Very low. Add to that the fact he had wet hair and was barefoot and you could excuse Caitlyn for gawping in such an ungainly fashion.
    As her gaze raked Jacob’s exposed skin, Caitlyn felt blood – or its spectral equivalent – rushing to her groin. It was no wonder, really. Despite their tumultuous on-off relationship, the one place Caitlyn and Jacob had always been compatible was the bedroom. Sometimes they’d even pick fights with one another on purpose so they’d end up having mind-blowing make-up sex. Moisture began to seep from Caitlyn’s pussy as she replayed some of their finer moments of passion.
    Caitlyn was soon interrupted from her erotic reverie as she heard a shrill sound coming from inside the house. She’d been so engrossed in her dirty daydream that she hadn’t realised that Jacob had ended his phone call. However, he was obviously in demand that day as his phone was ringing again. A puzzled expression crossed Jacob’s face as he looked at the mobile’s screen and he pressed a button before lifting it to his ear once more. He frowned as he greeted the caller; it obviously wasn’t someone he’d been expecting to hear from. As Jacob’s expression slowly turned to one of shock, Caitlyn realised she had an inkling of who the mystery caller might be. As he sat heavily on the nearest chair, his face devoid of colour, her suspicions were confirmed.
    Every cell of Caitlyn’s being ached to go and comfort Jacob and her gut wrenched when she remembered she couldn’t. Ever again. Suddenly, she was the one in need of comfort.
    Caitlyn moved into Jacob’s front room, hoping she’d get some just by being close to him. By now, he was listening to the caller, who Caitlyn could identify as her own mother, and muttering his affirmation into the phone as he was given details of the funeral service, which was to take place the following week. Jacob ended the call shortly afterwards and let the mobile slip out of his hand. It fell to the floor and he made no move to retrieve it.
    Minutes passed as Jacob stared into space. Then, as a single tear ran down his cheek, Caitlyn instinctively reached up to wipe it away. As her skin made contact with his, Jacob flinched, causing Caitlyn to do the same. He’d felt her! He shook his head, clearly dismissing what he believed to be a figment of his imagination.
    Caitlyn decided to try again. If he’d sensed her once, she could make him do it again. She moved her hand to his hair, brushing the wet, chin-length strands behind his ear. This time, Jacob simply stiffened.
    â€˜Cait?’ he said, using his nickname for her. He was the only one that ever got away with shortening her name that way. By way of a yes, she stroked his hair, relishing the softness beneath her fingers.
    He reached up, his large hand covering hers. His eyes searched the space beside him and as his fingers tightened around hers, his expression changed.
    â€˜I … I can see you!’ he exclaimed, his eyes as big as saucers. ‘How is that even possible?’
    Still unsure if he’d be able to hear her, Caitlyn replied,