by Hannah Ford
“Jason,” the man said, pointing at himself with his thumb jauntily. “We met in Florida, remember? At Callum’s house.”
“Oh,” I said, as the pieces clicked into place. “Right.”
“What a coincidence!” he said, sounding pleased. “Are you here with Callum?” He glanced around behind me, searching for Callum.
“No.” I reached back in my brain, grasping for what Callum had told me about this guy. From what I could remember it was that Callum had taken over Jason’s company and fired him, and Jason had been trying to get a meeting with Callum ever since?
I was a little hazy on the particulars, but whatever they were, it didn’t matter. It was none of my business. Callum was none of my business, and this Jason was just another reminder of Callum that I didn’t want (or have) to deal with. “Well, it was nice to see you,” I lied and started back down the aisle toward the registers.
“Wait,” Jason said, rushing to catch up to me. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with Callum, but I think I lost his cell phone number, or maybe he got a new one.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, and opened up his contacts screen. “Can you give me his number?”
My throat went dry. He was obviously lying. Callum was staying away from him for a reason. “I’m sorry,” I said politely. “I don’t have it.”
The smile stayed on Jason’s face, but I saw the annoyance and anger flash in his eyes. “Oh, come on,” he said lightly. “I’m sure you have his number.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I really don’t. I haven’t talked to Callum since that weekend in Florida.” I rolled my eyes in what I hoped was a believable, easy way that would diffuse some of the tension that had begun to creep into our interaction. If I had to lead Jason to believe that I was some kind of paid whore who’d spent a weekend with Callum and never heard from him again rather than someone who might have Callum’s contact info, well, then so be it.
“Bullshit,” Jason said. His tone was a little more menacing now, and I quickened my pace, still heading for the end of the aisle. Suddenly he was next to me, reaching out, grabbing my bag and using it to pull me toward him. “I just need his number,” he said, and then he reached into my bag and began rooting around in there for my phone.
“Hey!” I said. “Stop!” I tried to wrench the bag out of his hands, but he was too strong.
He grabbed my arm, the pressure increasing as I tried to struggle against him, his thumb pressing into my bicep so hard I yelped.
“I just need to talk to him,” he said. “I just need his number.”
I pulled back and stomped on his foot, so hard that it must have hurt or at least surprised him, because his grip on me loosened. I took the opportunity to wrench out of his grasp and run.
“You fucking bitch!” he yelled after me, but I didn’t turn around.
Once I was out in Union Square, I blended into the crowd as fast as I could and crossed the street quickly, finally looking over my shoulder to make sure Jason wasn’t following me. He wasn’t, but the fact did nothing to diminish the adrenaline that was coursing through my body.
When I was safely on the other side of the street, I stepped under an awning of a dark bar and took a couple of deep, shaky breaths.
“What the fuck was that?” I whispered out loud. Now that the shock of what had just happened was beginning to wear off, my mind was wandering, whirling its thoughts into a hurricane of dark questions. Like what was Jason doing in NYC if he lived in Florida? How had he just happened to be at the same Barnes and Noble I was? Had he followed me? And if so, how had he known where I was?
I pulled out my phone and thought about calling the police.
But what would I say?
A man grabbed my bag in a Barnes and Noble? That he had tried to steal my phone? They would probably take a statement and send me on my way. The police were supposed to make you feel safe and calm, but the thought of calling the cops wasn’t making me feel calm and safe. In fact, it was just filling me with more anxiety.
Callum.
His name shot through my heart like an arrow.
I hovered my finger over his name in my phone.
No, I told myself. You’re done with him. He’s done with you. You told him you wanted nothing to do with him, you can’t just call him when you need him and expect…
What did I expect? To see him again? For him to soothe me and make everything better?
No.
I just wanted to talk to him, to tell him what had happened. Didn’t it make sense to do that? What if he was in danger?
I pushed the call button on my phone before I could change my mind.
As the phone rang, a girl in a pair of leather pants pushed by me and into the bar, laughing loudly, the sound ricocheting through my ears and making it hard to hear.
“Hello?” I said into the phone, but he hadn’t answered yet.
The phone rang two…three… four times.
Panicked indecision flashed through my brain as I wondered if I should leave a message. Was he not answering because he wasn’t near his phone? Or because he had seen my name on his caller ID and didn’t want to talk to me?
I’d just decided I wasn’t going to leave a message when he answered.
“Adriana,” he said by way of greeting, his voice low and sexy and devoid of emotion.
“Callum,” I said. “Um, I’m sorry to call you, I just…”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, I just… that man from Florida, Jason, he was…” I felt a lump forming in my throat and I struggled to try and loosen it, to push my voice past it, but it was impossible. The shock of what had happened had continued to wear off, and now I was starting to get scared. Like really scared. Not only that, but the sound of Callum’s voice was having an intense effect on me, rocking me to my core and leaving me unsteady.
“Hold on, Adriana,” Callum said. I could hear voices and music in the background, the clink of glasses, the tinkling of a woman’s laughter. He was out somewhere. Of course he was out somewhere! I closed my eyes. Why had I called him? How stupid could I be? The background sounds faded into the background, and then Callum’s voice was back on the line. “Okay,” he said. “Now tell me what happened.”
“That man,” I said. “Jason, he was… I was in Barnes and Noble, and I saw him.”
“Where are you?” Callum demanded.
“Union Square,” I said. I forced a false bravado into my voice then cleared my throat. “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know. He seemed pretty determined to get your number, so I wanted to make sure --”
“Go to my apartment, Adriana. I will meet you there. Do not talk to anyone. If you see him, call the police.”
“What? Callum, no, that’s not –”
But the line had gone dead.
I took in a deep breath.
I knew I shouldn’t go.
But I wanted to see him.
I was powerless against the pull he had over me.
So I hailed a cab.
And I went to his apartment.
* * *
When I got there, I waited outside.
The street was relatively busy, and the people ambling along down the sidewalk provided me with a sense of comfort. If Jason had somehow been able to follow me, there were so many people around it would be hard for him to get away with anything.
On the other hand, every person I saw made me jump.
Two minutes after I arrived, a shiny black limo pulled up in front of the apartment, and Callum stepped out. He was dressed in jeans, a black sweater, and a black leather jacket, his hair slightly mussed. He hadn’t shaved since this morning and his stubble darker than usual. As he got closer, I caught a quick whiff of his woodsy cologne, and my body flooded with intense desire.
“Are you okay?” he demanded when he saw me, his eyes hooded with concern. “What happened?”
“I’m okay,” I said, shaking my head. “He just startled me is all. He wanted your phone
number.”
“How did he know where you were?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Did he touch you?” He reached out and took my hands in his, turned them over, like he was inspecting me for harm.
““No, he just… he scared me.”
“You’re shaking.”
I looked down, surprised to see he was right. My hands were shaking, but I wasn’t sure if it was because of what had happened with Jason, or because Callum was here, in front of me, touching me, comforting me. “I’m okay,” I said, but my voice sounded weak.
He slid his hand up my arm, and I winced.
His eyes narrowed as he reached up and slid the cardigan I was wearing down over my shoulder.
He inhaled sharply when he saw the ugly bruise Jason had left on my bicep. “He did touch you,” he said, his jaw clenching, a vein in his neck throbbing. “You should have told me, Adriana.”
“I didn’t realize…” I said.
The window of the limo rolled down then, and a girl’s voice came floating over the pavement. “Callum, are you coming?”
I looked up to see a blond head poking out of the back of the car.
Oh my God.
It was Aubrey Zane.
Aubrey Zane, one of the most famous pop stars in the world, was in the back of Callum’s limo.
Had they been on a date? Bile rose in my throat.
“Stay here,” Callum commanded.
He walked toward the limo, leaned down, and began talking to Aubrey. I couldn’t see her face, nor could I hear what he was saying to her.
But a moment later, the limo pulled away and Callum came back to me.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a key, unlocked the front door of the building.
“Come,” he said, and I followed him inside and into the elevator.
“Were you… um, were you and Aubrey on a date?” I asked. And then, because I hated the way I sounded, I added quickly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to interrupt.”
He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, and I was sure he was going to deny it, was going to tell me that he was just with her for some business thing. But he didn’t.
“Yes, we were on a date.”
“Oh.” My stomach twisted itself into a tight, painful knot. The elevator doors opened and we stepped into the hallway. “So after what we did last night, you were on a date with another woman?”
He was at the door to his apartment now, and he unlocked it and pushed inside. “You mean after you kicked me out and told me you wanted nothing to do with me this morning? Yes, I was with another woman, Adriana.”
I followed him as he tossed his keys onto the counter and removed his jacket. He reached into the refrigerator, pulled out a bottle of water and took a long sip. He set it down and then braced himself against the counter, his muscular biceps straining against his thin sweater.
“You could have at least waited a day,” I said, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice, even as my mind screamed at me to stop, to not give him the satisfaction of seeing how upset I was.
“I could have at least waited a day?” Callum repeated, and give a sarcastic laugh. “Do you know what you did to me this morning, Adriana? Do you have any fucking idea?” His hands tightened around the counter, his knuckles turning white as his voice rose and echoed accusingly off the walls of the apartment. When I didn’t answer him, he raised his head and looked at me, leveling me with those brilliant blue eyes. “You devastated me.”
I was still standing by the door, not sure if I was ready to fully commit to coming all the way into his apartment. “You must have been really devastated to immediately set up a date with one of the most gorgeous women on the planet, Callum.”
He crossed the room to me and grabbed my arms, pulled them up over my head and pinned them against the back of the door, his hips pushing into mine until I was trapped. “You rejected me,” he growled. “Not just me, Adriana, but who I am, what I need.”
“I didn’t reject who you were,” I said. “I just… “ He was so close, I could smell his scent, could see a tiny scar on his collarbone, could see the top of his shoulder where the strained muscles and tendons peeked out from the top of his sweater. “I can’t give you what you want.”
I was saying the words, but my voice sounded far away, and my knees felt weak. I fought against the power he had over me as hard as I could, but he was pulling me under, my resolve snapping like a twig under the weight of his magnetism.
And then, suddenly, he released me and walked back to the kitchen, picked up his water bottle and took another pull.
“Why are you here, Adriana?” he asked quietly. “Why did you call me?”
“Because Jason –”
“You could have called the police. They would have come right away.”
“I wanted to warn you.”
“Thanks, but I don’t need your warnings,” he said, shaking his head. “Jason is the least of my problems.”
“Are you going to call the police?” I asked, twisting my hands together in front of me.
“No.”
“No?”
“If you want to call the police, Adriana, be my guest. But Jason’s not a threat to me. He’s just a poser, one of those guys who think they’re hot shit. He’s upset, but he’ll get over it. If you feel differently, then by all means, you should file a report.”
My eyes filled with tears at Callum’s callous dismissal. I’d hurt him. I’d rejected him so deeply that he’d considered it an attack on who he was as a person, a validation that he was just as fucked up as he thought he was. I wasn’t sure we could ever recover from that.
I knew if I left this apartment, he wouldn’t contact me again. And I couldn’t contact him again, not after this. But the thing was, I felt safe here, in this apartment with him, even though he was the person with the ability to hurt me the most.
“I’ll get you a security detail,” he said. “Starting tomorrow.”
“I don’t want a security detail.” I want you.
“You won’t even know they’re there. And you won’t need to have any interaction with me.”
“I want to have interaction with you,” I said. I took a step toward him and put my hand on his arm. “I don’t want a guard, Callum.”
I felt his muscle clench under my touch, and then he turned to look at me. “What do you want, Adriana?”
“I want you,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “I want you to own me.”
As I said the words, I realized how true they were. I wanted to be with him, I wanted him to fuck me, to spank me, to punish me for what I’d done by not signing the contract in the first place. I wanted him to own me.
I reached into my bag, my hands still shaking.
I took out the contract, pulled the pages out the envelope and set them on the counter before signing with a flourish.
“There,” I said, setting the pen down. I squared my shoulders and looked him dead in the eye. “I’m yours.”
Callum stood there, not saying anything for a long moment, his gaze setting me on fire, his soul invading my body and burning my veins from the inside out.
Then he raised his chin.
“You’ll have to be punished.”
I nodded.
“Badly.”
I dropped my eyes from his. “I understand, sir.”
His breathing was deepening as he eyed me hungrily.
“Lock the front door, Adriana,” he said. “And then go to the bedroom.”
* * *
END OF BOOK FIVE
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