by Mason, V. F.
The kitchen is located several feet away with a brown door separating it, and when we get inside, my brow rises. It’s freaking huge with all the latest appliances available, and shiny as hell too.
The only person I’ve seen with such a kitchen is my friend Alissa. That girl is obsessed with all things cooking.
Well, until Jaxon took that away from her, that is.
Shaking my head from all thoughts about them and their complicated relationship that was never meant to have a happy ending, I voice my shock. “Do you have a lot of guests here?”
She sighs, turning on the pot on the stove. “Sadly, no, but my Callum allows me to cook for the local kindergarten.”
“Oh?”
She smiles, nodding. “Yes, he has a good heart, my Callum. He does,” she repeats, as if trying to convince me of this, and I grab an apple, munching on it.
“I know,” I assure her, because I get a vibe that she treats him as her son, rather than a boss.
And strangely enough, he must allow it.
“We have David working on the garden, and Stella comes to clean the house. Otherwise, it’s quiet,” she informs me while I take in all this information.
Why does he keep all the staff if he mostly spends his time in Texas? Usually when someone has properties all over the world, they have people who check on them. But keeping staff all the time? That’s weird.
“What do you want to eat?”
“To be honest, I just want to go to my room,” I say, my stomach flipping, because I don’t want to offend this nice lady, but my clothes are sticking to my body and I need to take a shower.
And explore.
I really, really need to explore.
She slaps her forehead and starts talking rapidly. “Of course. I always do this. Let’s go, child. I will show you to your room.” She pauses before clarifying, “Callum said to take you to his room. Is that okay?”
My jaw drops at this, because… isn’t he the boss? “Yeah.” My cheeks heat up. I know we are old enough to have sex, but still… no one wants to admit it to the older generation.
She pats my back. “Ah, young love.” Then she urges, “Let’s go, let’s go. Then I can work on the special dinner to celebrate your arrival.”
And as we walk upstairs, one thought niggles at my mind, sticking to it like glue.
Why would she mention him having a good heart?
What could I possibly find that might change my mind about him?
Callum
“You are playing a dangerous game, Callum,” Micaden says, throwing the keys to my house to me.
My brow rises. “You of all people are telling me this?”
He crosses his arms and leans on his car while his face stays indifferent. In most cases, people do that to hide some emotion… but not Micaden. He just doesn’t give a fuck about anyone much, period, unless it has to do with a certain redheaded.
“We are not discussing my life. Besides, our stories are different.”
“Differences lie in the eye of a beholder.” We do have one thing in common though, not that he’s aware of it.
I’ve never shared my past with anybody, except one person… and only because I had to. So friends or not… we don’t chitchat like a bunch of gossiping girls discussing our pasts.
Or “traumas,” as shrinks would say.
“By the way, Lachlan took Alison.” He laughs at my face, slapping his thigh. “That look alone was worth telling you.”
“He doesn’t deserve my boat,” I say, searching for my cigarettes, but I don’t find them anywhere. “Fuck, she hid them again,” I murmur, my hands already itching to deliver a spanking to that beautifully shaped ass of hers. The little vixen does it, fully knowing the punishment awaiting her. She craves the slap of my palm over her velvet skin as much as I like to deliver it.
“She is right.” Micaden snaps me out of my thoughts. “The habit will kill you.”
“No fucks given.” I grab my bag and hook it over my shoulder. “Thanks for picking us up. I owe you one.”
He nods, coming closer, and gives me a pat on the back. “Always, Callum.”
“And forever,” I singsong, but he flips me off while my laughter fills the garden.
“Will you be on the island?”
His gaze softens, right before he replies, “I have different plans. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He hops inside the car, the engine roaring to life.
“So that means I have a free pass for everything, right?” The island belongs to him and is his domain, and while we all have the power to kill each other… we respect territory.
No one needs to clean up someone else’s messes.
He shakes his head at me, puts on his sunglasses, and drives off into the fucking sunset.
What Lachlan, Micaden, Arson, and Jaxon fail to understand is that I’m not avenging or kidnapping anyone. Giselle Walker has always been mine due to circumstance that forever locked us in a bond we can never break.
She belonged to me from the very beginning. I’m simply taking my rightful due.
Giselle is mine, and God help anyone who tries to take her away from me.
Even Giselle herself.
Chapter Thirteen
Giselle
“Do you need help with anything else?” Magnolia asks, standing by the door, and I shake my head.
“No, thank you.”
She nods and walks away, quietly closing the door behind her.
I remove my hat from my head, running my fingers through my hair, hoping I don’t look like a wet cat due to the humidity in the room.
Placing my purse on the counter, I walk to the terrace as the breeze blows the curtains back, flicking me lightly in the face. A gasp escapes me when I see the beauty of the sunset. The sun is almost kissing the tip of the ocean where waves are slamming against the rocks and echoing in the evening.
As I admire the spacious garden opening up in front of me, I see a narrow path leading to the beach.
This villa seems like heaven on earth!
Slipping off my shoes, I plant my feet on the soft grass and spin around, basking in the sunlight. Leaning my head back, I sigh and hear quiet chuckles behind me, which rush through me like the lightest of caresses.
“Enjoying yourself?”
I turn around, grinning at Callum, who leans on the doorjamb.
“Something you want, darling?” He starts to slowly unbutton his black shirt.
“Mr. MacRae, are you trying to seduce me again?” I saunter toward him, making sure to pass by him when he wants to grab me, and wiggle my index finger at him. “Nah-ah. Someone promised me adventure.”
His heated gaze scans me from head to toe, lingering on my lips before he drills his stare into me. “Everything has a right time and place.”
My mouth forms an O and I cover it with my palm, acting scandalized. “Is that so?” Sighing dramatically, I add, “I feel betrayed.” He takes a step in my direction, but I move back, shaking my head. “My feelings are too hurt to have sex with you, Callum.”
Amusement crosses his face but he quickly masks it with boredom as he replies, “Give me five minutes and you’ll feel nothing but pleasure.” His voice drops and he takes another step. “While I thrust inside you over and over again.”
Oh my God, this man has turned me into a sex-crazed maniac just like he is, because his words bring nothing but hot flashes along with need.
It’s a crime for a man to be this irresistible!
“Come here,” he orders again, and he transforms into a predator, staring at me with a calculated look as if trying to guess my next move.
But where is pleasure without a little game?
“Nope. It’s almost noon here. I’m going to change into a swimsuit and go tanning.”
His jaw tics and he darts to me while I spin around with a squeal, ready to run to the bathroom before he can catch me. I almost make it, but he wraps his hands around me and lifts me up.
“Callum!” I shout,
but he’s having none of my protests, but surprisingly he takes us to the bathroom, shutting the door loudly before turning on the water. “What are you doing?”
“I think we need to wash away all the travel filth, don’t you?” Instantly, my clothes become soaked as the showerhead above us pours hot water on us.
My laughter echoes in the bathroom when he presses me to the tile wall, quickly removing my sundress and snatching my panties away. “At the rate you’re going, there will be no lingerie for me to wear,” I tease while he tugs on the back of his T-shirt, which he throws by my dress on the floor where a wet spot is forming.
“I can live with that.” He fumbles with the zipper of his pants, when he pauses, frowning, and then growls, “You don’t admire other men.”
Ah, my little comment hit his possessive streak.
“Well, he is handsome.” He growls, pushing his pants away with his foot. “But he is not you,” I murmur, sliding my splayed palm down my stomach and then dipping it inside me, gliding over my folds as a light moan escapes me. “This is all for you.” I say, before taking my hand and putting it to his lips, smearing my taste over his mouth.
He licks it clean, sending a jolt straight to my clit, and then presses my hand above my head, stepping closer.
His gaze runs over my form in appreciation. “Look at you, all flushed and ready for the taking.” His other hand travels from my ass to my neck, squeezing the nape possessively before rumbling, “Who makes this pussy wet, Giselle?”
“You do.” I whisper over his lips, anticipating a kiss, but he doesn't give it to me.
Instead, he dips and grabs my thighs, hiking me up and wrapping my legs around him, his erection digging into my folds, but just the tip. Gasping, I lace my hands in his hair and want to lock my mouth with his to get my freaking kiss, but he denies me once again!
He props me higher so that my breasts are level with his mouth, and he leans to flick his tongue around the tight bud, licking it before trapping it between his teeth. Pulling a little, the combination of pleasure and pain shoots through me, tearing a moan from me. “Callum.” I press his mouth harder against me, my head resting on the cool tile while the steam of the water envelopes us, coating our skin with perspiration, and I struggle for breath.
With one last suckle, he shifts to the other breast, all while slowly rocking his hips back and forth, giving me just the tip of his mushroom head that slips into my folds. But before it can give me relief… he takes it away, driving me crazy with need and annoyance.
He trails his lips to my collarbone, licking the water away before going to my neck and feasting on the flesh. Each suck of his lips sends tremor after tremor, only highlighting my desire, while he continues this cat-and-mouse game.
“Callum, please,” I beg, because the pressure becomes unbreakable.
He shakes his head and nips on my chin before finally reaching my mouth and taking it prisoner for a deep, probing kiss, where his tongue plunges inside, owning it.
It’s hot, passionate, but also punishing, because his thumb digs into my chin, opening my mouth wide while he dominates it, stamping ownership all over it. “Who do you belong to?” he asks, licking around my mouth, and I seek his kiss again, but he slides to the side, lavishing my neck with attention once again. “Who?” he barks, his hand fisting my hair, tilting my head so he has better access to me. “Who drives this body insane and has you wet and on edge so much you scream till your voice becomes hoarse?”
“Callum,” I say, and then chant, “Please, please, please.”
“Since you’re begging so nicely,” he whispers, and drives inside me, catching my whimper with his kiss, becoming my only focus in this world.
My pussy clenches around him, begging for him to move, but he stands still. “Who is the man you want above all else, Giselle?” he asks, nuzzling my neck while rocking just a little, enough to tease me with it but not enough to give friction. “Say my name.”
I bite on his shoulder, clawing his back, hating that he put me in a vulnerable position here without delivering.
So I press my lips against his ear and whisper, “You do, but if you’re not going to move, I swear to God I— Oh!” I gasp when he pulls back and then slams forward, my back hitting the tile, not that I care.
His hand travels to my neck and he tugs on my hair, lifting my mouth for his kiss that’s hot and deep. Callum consumes me with each touch, submersing me in the world of passion and insanity.
Goose bumps break out on my skin, while my insides threaten to burst at any moment, almost reaching the peak when his movements speed up. He starts pounding into me hard, his nails bruising my skin, but the sting only raises my desire.
My hands circle his neck, and this time, I dive for an angry kiss, wanting him to keep this pace and not torture me with it. I lick around his lips then trap his lower one between my teeth and pull a little while he thrusts into me again, groaning against me. I find his tongue with mine, and we share a long kiss. With the water cascading above us, the steam creating a cocoon around us, and desire so raw it feels unreal, I wish for this to never end despite my body begging for release.
Because in his arms, I find solace and peace that was never given to me before. With Callum, I can trust him to take care of my heart without stumbling on it or betraying me.
All he ever does is give this intense pleasure that knows no barriers and seeks acceptance.
He tenses in my arms and I know he’s close, so I tighten my hold on him and clench around his length. That’s enough to send us both over the edge, our mutual moans swallowed in our kiss and heavy heartbeats.
He lets go of my mouth and we both gulp for breath, staring at one another for a long time before I give him a gentle peck, and ask, “Are we going to have our adventure now?”
He laughs, allowing me to slide back down, and he picks up shower gel, winking at me. “How about a walk down the beach?”
Wherever he takes me works for me.
That’s how much I trust him.
Callum
I make sure the shower is still running as I retrieve the phone from under the blanket, reading the message from a man who shall never be named, for he is a madman.
I’m surprised Micaden even allows his presence on the island.
Since when does he share his victims?
A second message pops up, a picture of a man strapped to a chair with tape covering his mouth.
The man who hunted him holds the knife above the victim’s head, almost pressing the tip into him, and gives a thumbs-up to me, as if he’s snapping a fucking memory photo.
But then I zero my gaze on the victim and freeze as different images from the past collide in my head, one more horrific than the other.
And along comes fury that knows no mercy.
I put on my clothes quickly, take the keys for my car, and type.
All these years, I couldn’t find him, couldn’t locate him, but he’s finally in my grasp. And I’ll be damned if I lose this opportunity to fucking kill him.
Justice will come.
At last.
Giselle
Wrapping a towel around me, I wink at my reflection in the mirror and walk out of the bathroom, saying while wiping my hair, “You know, at the rate we’re going…” The words die on my lips when I discover nothing but an empty, rumpled bed and silence. “Callum?” I call, but he is nowhere in sight.
What happened to having a walk down the beach together?
Sometimes, my passionate man still reminds me of the jerk I met a month ago.
Quickly putting on clothes, I go to the living room, which almost seems like it’s in a different wing, since the long, narrow hallway takes forever to walk down.
I admire several oil paintings of fauna along the way, touching them lightly and drinking in the beauty the artist has created. It’s like they’re real and breat
he through the painting, almost wanting to be touched.
The smell of freshly made pancakes tickles my nostrils, and my stomach growls, demanding food. I enter the kitchen, knocking on the door, and Magnolia half turns to me, resting her hand on her hip while she flips yet another pancake—judging by the big pile by the stove—with a spatula. “Come, darling.”
I make a move to fetch a plate, but she shakes her head, pointing at the table. “Sit and enjoy. Let me take care of someone. God knows Callum doesn’t allow it.” There is sadness lacing her tone, but she covers it up with a smile as she puts two of the fluffy creations on a plate and pours me a cup of tea.
“Where is he, by the way?” My mouth waters when she places the plate in front of me along with a fork. I dig into the food and groan in pleasure. “Oh my God.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” She laughs, flipping another pancake, and I wonder who is going to eat it all. It’s like she is expecting an army here. “He went out for business.”
“Business?” My brows furrow at this, because according to my reports, he has all his business in Texas.
Besides, didn’t he say we’re here to work on his garden? Not to mention his promised walk down the beach.
“Yes, yes. Eat this too.” She hurries over with berries and then changes the subject so quickly I think she doesn’t want to talk about the business thing anymore. Maybe Callum doesn’t allow his employees to ever mention his private stuff? “I’ll need to go in a few minutes. My son is back.”
“Oh, what’s his name?”
“Mike.” She puffs her chest proudly. “He’s the local fisherman.”
“That’s awesome!”
She turns off the stove and grabs her own mug before settling at the table.
She continues to talk about the island, its citizens, and recent town gossip. I’m not one to spread gossip or cause drama, but listening to it is one of my guilty pleasures. I even manage to gasp at some stories, like a local kid stealing an apron from Ms. Wilkinson.
