by Dani René
I grasp her chin between my thumb and index finger, then lean in, inhaling her sweet-scented perfume. “Let’s get one thing straight, baby girl,” I growl, lowering my mouth to hers, brushing my lips against hers slightly, which makes her lean closer, needing connection, but I don’t offer it. “I’m not cute. I’ve never been cute, so next time you want to piss me off, call me cute.”
“What would you do if I did call you . . . you know.” She waves her hand in the air, not uttering the damn word.
“I’d punish you.”
Her breathing hitches. Her pulse riots in her neck, thumping against that spot I want to taste, lick, and nibble on. “And if I want to be punished?” She breathes the words, and my cock responds with a fuck yes.
“You wouldn’t like my punishments, sweetheart, because when — and yes, I said when — I do punish you, it will not be pleasurable. I’ll make sure your pretty honey-colored eyes sparkle like golden raindrops. And I’ll make sure you curse me until I reward you again.”
Her tongue flicks out, trailing along her lips, making them shimmery and wet. “There’s nothing you can do to me that will scare me off. So, if that’s what you’re doing here.” She sighs. “It won’t work.”
The air is heavy with desire. I know she’s nervous. Her eyes are like windows into her heart, her soul, and deep down, she may act like this strong, sassy little minx, but I know she’s scared of this.
I’m happy she’s scared. Because I know what kind of man I am. Selfish, rude, and I’ll break her. Not physically, but emotionally. I know I’ll shatter her heart when it’s time to say goodbye. As good as this feels, having her in my arms, I wonder if it’s a passing faze for her.
And soon, I’ll no longer be employed by her father. Which means that somewhere along the line, I may have to walk away.
But it doesn’t stop me wanting her.
Madison
Spinning on my heel, I leave him standing there as I head into the house. I don’t look back to see if he’s following me, but when I hear the crunch of shoes on the paved cobblestones echo toward me from the open doorway, I know he has. Making my way straight for the kitchen, I grab a bottle of chilled water from the fridge, and that’s when he finally joins me.
As much as I want this, I feel a heaviness in the pit of my stomach. Callan’s not a man who’ll stick around. There’s something in his eyes, in the way he acts that shows he remains aloof. Even though I’m right there in the room with him, there’s a part of the man hidden behind high concrete walls. And that part reminds me he can easily hurt me. But each time I’m around him, I feel more.
He stares at me for a moment too long, his gaze flickering between my lips and my eyes. It’s heated. Burning me from the inside out. He’s like a goddamn match against my blood, which has turned to gasoline, and I know he can see it. It’s as if he enjoys watching me burn for him.
“Do you really get off acting like an asshole?” My voice comes out breathy, and I can’t stop admonishing myself for acting like this around him. He makes me crazy; he turns me into a teenage girl again, and I don’t like it. I’m stronger than that, but as his knuckles trace the curve of my cheek, dropping to the slope of my neck, I tremble.
“I do, but more than that, it gets you off, too. I see it in your pretty eyes, Madison. If you didn’t want this,” he says, gripping the nape of my neck. “If you didn’t want me,” he confirms, stepping closer, our bodies aligned perfectly with his rigidness pressing against my stomach. “Then you wouldn’t still be standing here waiting for me to kiss you.”
“I’m not waiting for anything, Callan,” I inform him, lifting my chin slightly, which only brings my mouth closer to his. Inches separate us. The proximity of his body to mine causes desire to tighten low in my belly. My core quivers, and I’m needy once more.
“Then you best go and get that dress hung up properly for tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to come with me.” I finally pull away from him, needing space from the overbearing man who seems to have such power over me it leaves me both speechless and motionless.
My knees are wobbly when I finally walk toward the exit of the kitchen, leaving Callan at the counter. “I’ll be right beside you all night, Blossom. And when you’re ready to come home, I’ll be the one to bring you here safely.” He voices his promise in a deep, rumbling lilt.
“Then I suppose it’s settled.” I smile, stalking out of the kitchen. I know he’s heading out, so when I reach my bedroom, I drop my purse on the vanity counter and stroll over to the balcony window to watch the SUV pulling out of the drive. I wonder where he’s going.
* * *
***
* * *
Callan has been gone all morning. Last night when he arrived back from Sins, he went straight for the pool house. I’ve spent the day in my room reading, trying not to think about what’s happening between us. Also, trying to push the thought of the event tonight from my mind.
My purse vibrates wildly on the wooden top, and I know exactly who it is. My best friend — at least, the person I used to call my best friend — must be calling to find out where I was yesterday. As soon as the vibration stops, it starts again. Sighing, I pull it from my purse to find Amber’s name flashing at me.
I don’t want to talk to her. I don’t need to hear the excuses and lies, but I swipe my finger over the screen and place the device to my ear.
“Madi?” her voice is shrill over the speaker, causing me to wince.
“Hey.”
“Where were you? I waited for ages. Are you okay?” Her concern is fake, her voice heavy with sugary-sweet lies, and anger bubbles through me. Her friendship has been like a poison slowly trickling through my life, and I didn’t know it until I saw her with my ex-boyfriend in the middle of the sidewalk. I had been blind. Wanting so much to be accepted into the life my father forced me into.
The limelight.
The fame that comes along with being a senator’s daughter.
I hate it.
“I decided to wear something from my closet,” I tell her easily. The lie slipping from my lips and hanging in the air.
“You can’t be serious?” she questions incredulously, unbelieving that I’m going to wear something last season or even perhaps a hand-me-down from my mother, but there’s no way I can even do that. She walked out when I was a child and never looked back. When she died, my father had everything she’d ever had in the house donated to charity.
“I am. In fact, I’m thinking of perhaps a plain black dress. Simple and elegant.”
She gasps loudly, and I can only picture the shock and horror on her face.
“I’ll see you later, Amber.” I hang up before she has time to respond or retort.
There’s been this long-standing joke that black is boring or old school, but I don’t need to impress anyone. Not anymore. That’s a lie. There is only one person I want to impress, and that’s Callan.
I never had a plan when I first walked up to him in the parking lot of Sins. I didn’t even have a clue what he’d say to me, or what his reaction would be when I asked him for a ride on his motorcycle. But when his gaze dropped to mine, I knew he would be trouble.
I’m convinced a man like that can never love someone. Hell, I don’t even know if I can love him. But I can enjoy the time he’s here. Even if we only have a few days left. And who knows? My father might return earlier, and I’ll once again have a new driver or bodyguard. Maybe Daddy will finally retire. Although, I doubt that. He enjoys the limelight far too much.
Toeing off my shoes, I sigh with relief that my feet are finally on the soft, plush carpeting. I need to get ready, but my mind is still spinning from the whiplash of Callan O’Leary, and as I reach my bathroom and turn on the shower, I glance in the mirror at the girl that’s smitten. I can see it in my eyes. There’s a soft, pink glow in my cheeks. My eyes are glazed with want.
The spray is warm, but it does nothing to calm me. Tonight, I’ll see Hudson again. I’ll also c
ome face to face with Amber, and even though I don’t want to cause a scene, I have a feeling there will be one. My best friend is not someone who will take something lying down. I don’t care if she wants my ex-boyfriend, but for her to lie to me, to tell me she’s my friend when all along she’s probably been fucking him behind my back, it makes me more angry than sad.
Serves me right for dating the good boy as my father puts it. Hudson is everything my dad would want in a son-in-law. He’s the type of guy who would fit into our lifestyle without fuss. All the dinner parties, the clothes, and etiquette. It’s sad you’re bombarded with so many rules and regulations but still turn out to be an asshole.
I’m stepping out of the shower when I hear shuffling in my bedroom. The gentle echo of shoes on my carpet makes my heart leap to my throat. It can’t be Hudson. He wouldn’t come back here, not after what happened.
Wrapping a towel around my body, I head into the room to find it empty, but on the bed is a small silver box. The square shape offers no hint as to what it could be as it shimmers from where I’m standing. A bright orange bow glints in the dim light of my nightstand lamp.
When I reach the bed, I run my finger along the silvery edge. My mind flitting between what it is and just how Callan found something that he’s now placed on my bed.
“I hope you’ll wear it tonight,” a deep voice comes from my doorway, startling me.
Spinning around, I find him leaning against my doorframe dressed in a dark pair of slacks that hug his impossibly muscled thighs. The white shirt he’s wearing looks like it’s just been pressed, no creases whatsoever, and a tie hangs loose around his neck. The top four buttons of his shirt are undone, and the smooth skin that peeks at me is a tease of what’s beneath the crisp material.
“You’re buying me gifts?” I quip, untying the ribbon and flicking open the lid of the box. Inside, on black velvet, is a silver plug. The jewel on the end, a deep burnt orange, is the color of a darkening sunset. “A butt plug?”
“It is.” This time he smirks, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly, his full lips taunting me with only that sinful grin.
“I’d love to wear it,” I tell him, noting his dark brows shoot up in surprise. “Would you like to insert it for me?” Tentatively, I lift it from the cushioning and glance up at Callan, whose eyes are as dark as night.
“Drop your towel, Blossom, and bend over so that pretty little ass is open for me,” he orders gruffly. His voice laced with desire, with need and want. Slowly, I allow the fluffy material to pool at my feet, then turn and lower myself to the bed. My backside pointed toward him, my legs spread a few inches, giving him access to me.
“Like this?” I murmur into the mattress as his hand cups the globe of my ass.
“You’re a naughty fucking tease, baby girl,” he grunts, and I know he’s affected by me, my body, and I realize that even though he might not stick around forever, I can learn, grow under his watchful eye.
He moves behind me. A snap of a plastic cap alerts me he had planned this all along. He had lube ready and waiting; he baited me, and I fell for it. Hook. Line. Sinker. I’m his, and there’s no more denying it.
He works gently, his fingers teasing my tight entrance, then I feel the cold metal pressing at my hole. Torturously, he inches the metal plug into my ass. I’ve only ever done this once before. It was Hudson and I experimenting, but he hated everything about it. Now I realize he just didn’t want me. Callan though, something about his possessiveness confirms there’s so much more between us, and I wonder if he’ll ever commit to it.
When the plug slips into me, fully seated, he gently massages the cheeks of my ass. “Such a pretty girl,” he coos, pressing a kiss to my lower back where my spine meets my rear. “Stand.” His order is a whisper along my skin, and I rise without question. The fullness of my body causes me to wobble, but Callan’s strong arms are around me instantaneously.
“This is . . .” I’m not sure what to say, allowing my words to filter into nothing.
“Tell me,” he commands in a serious yet dominating tone.
I meet those eyes that shimmer with desire. As many times as Callan has looked at me, there’s not been affection in his stare. Merely need. Nothing that could ever allow me to mistake him for caring, for him feeling anything more than what this really is.
“I feel full,” I tell him finally.
He nods, pulling my naked body against his. I mold to him. All my soft curves fit into his hard edges, and I try to steel myself from feeling anything more than basal desire.
“It’s different.”
“Tonight, I’ll show you different, Blossom,” he vows. “There’s nothing more I want right now than to bend you over and show you just how hard you make me, but I promised your father I’d escort you safely to the event, shadow you for the evening, and then return you to your pretty princess bed.”
Those last few words are said with derision. He doesn’t believe I’m the innocent girl I’m meant to portray. Fuck, neither do I, to be honest.
“And then what?” I quip, tipping my chin up to face him head on. Our gazes locked in a stand-off. I can’t look away. He doesn’t. The heat between us is at boiling point when he finally steps away from me.
“Then I’ll fuck you until you can’t walk. Tomorrow you’ll spend in bed, recovering from the agony my cock will put you in.”
I should be appalled. Any woman would be angry at his filthy words, but I’m far from it. In fact, I’m so turned on I squirm under his heated gaze.
“You really do have a high regard of yourself and your abilities, Mr. O’Leary.”
He chuckles, the corner of his eyes crinkling ever so slightly, but instead of aging him, it only makes him look younger.
“You do underestimate me, Ms. Parker.” He leans in, his lips whispering over the smooth skin of my neck. I shudder when the heat of his warm breath hits me. “Because, I assure you, I wear my confidence proudly, and the only reason I do is because I know the moment your pretty caramel thighs are either side of my head, and my tongue is dipping deep into that sweet, tight hole, you’ll forget your own fucking name. And you will do, because the only thing you’ll remember is my name, Callan O’Leary.”
Callan
I turn and leave her in the bedroom, no doubt still blushing from my illicit promise. The thought of tasting her, of bending her over and licking my way from her clit to that tight ass, draws a groan from my chest.
And as much as I’d love to skip the party, it’s imperative we attend. There are a few people who’ll be there who need to see her. She also needs to collect her father’s award for some or other title he doesn’t deserve.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I tap out a message to Oliver. He must already be there because his response is a mere "Okay". In the foyer, I shrug on my jacket, fasten my tie, and by the time the knot is choking me, Madison graces me with her presence. The dress I recall from yesterday is stunning, her curves are deliciously taunting, and I have to fight against the hard-on in my slacks.
“I’m ready.” She smiles up at me.
“Are you wearing panties?” I question, taking in her appearance hungrily.
She nods. “Yes. A thong, actually, and it's lace.” Her words are feathered along the collar of my shirt. The effect is my dick throbbing against my zipper.
“Let’s go,” I tell her gruffly, jerking the door open and allowing her to exit first. She sways her hips marginally as she walks toward the car. The little tease will pay for that later. She’ll pay for everything with those beautiful holes of hers. I’m going to devour every inch of her, and when I’m done, she will be sated.
Not waiting for me to open the door, she pulls it open and slips into the passenger seat. I don’t know how it will look with her sitting up front, but tonight, I don’t give a fuck. She’s mine for the evening, and I’m going to make the most of it. Knowing I can’t have any normal relationship with her, I have to appease my hunger by stolen moments like a fucking teenag
er.
Once I’m in the driver’s seat and the engine is rumbling, I steer us down the driveway, through the black metal gates, and down to the Palmer House Hotel where the party is being held this evening.
The scent of Madison hangs heavily in the air, the gentle citrus of her orange blossom perfume the only thing I can smell. She makes me want more, every goddamn inch of her. Soon I’ll be gone, and she’ll be moving on to better things, but I’ll never forget her fragrance. The way she challenges every ounce of restraint I own. Somehow, even after just the time we’ve spent together since her father hired me, I’m addicted to her, and my concrete plan to tear down the Parker name is gone.
The past six months since I arrived in the city, I’ve watched her. She’s been my special project, following her to see where she went, what she enjoyed, and now, I’m in deep. It’s stupid, I shouldn’t have done it, but something about her called to me.
“You’re quiet,” she offers, leaning against the chair, her head tilted toward me as she regards me. I feel her gaze on me, burning through my walls, piercing past those barriers I put up a long time ago.
“I’m thinking.”
“About?” she asks, turning her body so she’s facing me. Once again, my skin flames as she scorches me with those dark eyes. I don’t look at her, instead focusing my gaze on the road ahead.
I can see the hotel in the distance, and I pray to a God that long ago abandoned me and my family, hoping I can hold onto the darkness lurking just beneath the surface. I want to unleash it on her just to hear her screaming my name. Just to watch her body writhe as I fuck her hard, mercilessly, until she’s spent.
“You know, Callan, you may hide behind that mask, but I see you,” she confesses what I already know. Something about this woman has stirred something within me, something long lost, and no matter how much I try, I’ll never be able to shake it.
