by Dani René
My face is smarting, so I make my way down to the kitchen to grab some ice. When I walk into the space, I find Callan at the kitchen table, his nose buried in his phone, and I wonder who he’s texting. It’s ridiculous. I feel like a jealous girlfriend. Shaking my head, I open the fridge and pull out the small ice pack I use after running. Wrapping it in a tea towel, I place it on my cheek and can’t stop the moan of relief that falls from my lips.
“If you keep making those goddamn sounds, Blossom, I’m not going to get any work done,” he says from behind me.
I turn to look at him. He’s pulled open a laptop and is tapping away. I make my way to him, still holding the ice-cold pack to my face and settle on the chair opposite him. He doesn’t look at me. Instead, he carries on typing. His brow creased in concentration as his dark eyes are pinned to the screen.
I sit back, my gaze never straying from him. He’s handsome. Rugged and rough around the edges. He’s no longer wearing the blood-splattered shirt but a blue tee that seems to be molded to his frame. His muscles bulge with movement as he works. And the sprawling veins that adorn his arms make me want to trace the intricate patterns with my tongue. I want to see more. So much more.
Show me what you hide, Callan, please.
Callan
“Do you really care?” she questions, causing my fingers to freeze midair. There’s nothing humorous about her words. And I realize with each day I’m around her, I want her more. My first week of work was just that. With her in meetings, I didn’t make a move. I allowed her to be the professional I’ve come to learn she is, but she’s slowly burrowing her way under my skin.
And I decide to give her an honest answer, so I nod. “I do.”
“Why?” Once again, she pushes for more. I wanted this to be nothing more than a job, but I can’t deny it’s becoming more.
“I’ve always been professional when it comes to jobs, Madison,” I inform her. The words are raspy, and I can hear the emotion in my tone. She’s heard it too. Raking my fingers through my hair, I lift my eyes to meet hers. “I’ve never allowed myself to have what my brother does, what normal people do.”
Her face is a picture of sadness. There’s affection in her expression, which jolts my heart once more. Each time she looks at me like that it forces me to wonder. To play with the idea of having a woman beside me.
“What if you can have it all?” she asks with a gentle smile, lifting one perfectly sculpted eyebrow in question. “I mean, maybe since you’ve been in that life for so long, you allowed yourself to be immersed in it. But here” — she gestures between us — “you don’t need to be that person anymore. You came here for a new life. Didn’t you?”
“I did,” I agree. My answer earns me a megawatt smile.
“Then take me out. Let’s do something together,” she implores. “I’m done needing a babysitter. Be something else. I’m going to get dressed, and you’re going to take me out.” She giggles. The sound is beautiful, lighthearted, and it makes me smile in return. I watch her spin on her heel and stalk from the kitchen.
I leave her be and finish up the work I had, but my mind is running rampant with ideas of where to take her. We have the gala event on Friday, and tomorrow I have to take her shopping with her so-called best friend, but today I vow to make it all about her.
I’ve never really dated anyone in a long while. It’s not in my nature, but this girl makes me want that. All that bullshit. Granted, I’ll never be one for romance, but I can certainly treat her to an afternoon of good food, and perhaps learn more about this beauty.
* * *
Her big brown eyes peek up at me from the opposite side of the table. The café we’re in isn’t busy, so we found a small booth in the back of the restaurant.
“What are you thinking?” she asks, watching me intently.
“About how beautiful you’d look sitting on this table with your pretty pussy open, ready for me to eat.” Honesty earns me a blush. Dark lashes flutter against her cheeks as she drops her gaze.
“Do you always hide behind sex?” she breathes through her frustration, her chest rising and falling catching my stare.
“Not always, but you drive me to it,” I retort playfully.
“Men seem to do that, hide behind emotionless words and actions.” Her observation makes me angry. In the time we’ve spent together, I’ve offered her more affection than I have given anyone my whole life.
“I’m not your father,” I bite out. The words are harsh, and I realize how that sounded.
“Fuck you, Callan.”
“I didn’t mean—”
She interrupts me with an observation that jars me for a moment. “If you spend your life angry at how it turned out, don’t blame others. All I meant was you don’t have to be cold with me. I want this. I want you. Is that so difficult to understand?”
“I’m not good at this,” I tell her, waving my hand around. “Dating and all that bullshit your little prep-school boy gave you, that’s not me.”
“No, because you’re a man, I get that. But you’ve given me more solace than he ever did.” Her fire blazes through me, heating my blood with need for this woman.
“You mean those scars?”
She drops her head, fiddling with the tablecloth, the cup before her, anything else, but she doesn’t look at me. “They were a buildup of years of pain, of being bullied by girls like Amber and boys like Hudson.”
“What changed? You’re best friends with her and you were dating him.”
She shakes her head. “When I got to college, I lost weight. I focused on fitness, so I didn’t have to go through what I did in school, but the damage was already done. After my mother left when I was twelve, I started,” her voice raspy with the pain from years of anguish.
“Where is she now? Your mother.”
A sad laugh falls from her lips at my question. “She died a long while ago. We got the news that she’d had a heart attack. I’m not sure on the details, but my father told me. I didn’t feel a thing when I heard. I spent my life angry with her for leaving me to fend off the bullies. My father never cared.”
Her words grip my heart. That cold, dead muscle that’s been sleeping soundly for years is alive and beating for her. Only for her. It should scare the fuck out of me, but it doesn’t. I care about her.
“Since we’ve been . . . I mean, since we’ve gotten to know each other, I haven’t wanted to cut. I haven’t felt that innate need to hurt myself.”
If I didn’t think I was falling for this girl before, I am now. And I know when she finally lifts those beautiful cinnamon eyes to mine, that she feels it too. It’s flickering like a candle in the dark, and I’m the moth, ready to fly to my demise.
“I wanted to scare you away,” I tell her. “I didn’t want to corrupt you with my darkness, my anger, and yet—”
“Yet, I have my own demons,” she tells me with a small smile. “I think you’re the one who was scared.” Her observation is correct. I was scared when I saw the goodness in her.
I can’t help chuckling at her words. I’ve never been scared of anything my whole life. I’ve killed, tortured, and maimed men since I turned sixteen. Fear wasn’t a factor in my mind. A wasted emotion, just like love. But she’s right.
“I’m serious,” Madison says. Her words are low, a mere whisper. “You were afraid of feeling something for me.” She nods at her conclusion, and I can’t fault her. There’s no nervousness in this girl. Her body is rigid. Straight and confident. She’s so sure of herself right now.
I wanted to break her, to make her scream and cry, while watching her pieces fall. But I realize she’s already shattered. Slowly, she’s taken each fragment and glued herself back together, and somehow, it’s molded her into someone who fits into my broken parts.
She doesn’t even know why I’m really here. I’ve veered off my path to take her down along with her father. She’s not him. So far from it, and as the realization slowly dawns on me, I make it my mission to keep her
safe from what’s about to happen to her precious father. I’m going to give her anything she needs. I shouldn’t do this, but I’m dying to see her cry. To watch those pretty brown eyes glisten with tears, but instead of sadness, they’ll be tears of pleasure.
She rises, smiles down at me, then leans in. “I’ll be in the rest room if you want to follow.”
I wait, listening to her footfalls disappear before I call for the check. Once it’s paid, I’m out of my chair and following the path she took moments ago.
Shoving open the door to the ladies, I find one cubicle closed, but when the click of the lock sounds behind me, she steps out.
“I knew you couldn’t resist.” She smiles playfully. But the moment I’m closer, nearing her, the smile falls away, and I’m met with the heat in her pretty eyes. “Touch me, Callan,” she purrs, her hand reaching for me.
Lightning fast, I grip both her wrists, binding them with my one hand behind her back as I shove us both into the cubicle and kick the door shut behind us. With my free hand, I reach into the tiny pair of shorts she’s wearing for me. No doubt they are for me. I find her cotton panties soaked with her arousal.
“Is this what you wanted?” I press two fingers against her clit hard. Roughly. She gasps when I push the material into her tight hole. They drench in her slickness, and I smirk. “Your little cunt gets wet for this dangerous man?” I question, but I don’t need her to answer. I know what she’ll say. Shoving the material to the side, I stroke her smooth lips, finding a soft patch of hair on her mound. “A naughty little girl. Do you want to submit your beautiful body to me so I can have my wicked way with you? Do you want to hear what a bad man I am while I finger your tight, wet hole?”
She nods. I laugh. A wholehearted laugh.
I can’t drag my eyes away from her, she’s far too beautiful.
“Come for me, sweetheart,” I coo in her ear as I tease her, stroking her, dipping my fingers into her heat. Her head drops back. She grips my shoulders, clawing at me as I finger-fuck her in a restroom.
She doesn’t care. Her pearly white teeth bite down on her lower lip as she whimpers and mewls. And when her walls pulse around my fingers, I know she’s about to unravel, and I can’t turn away. My eyes locked on this beautiful creature who’s mine. All fucking mine.
And as much as I wanted to push her away, I can’t. I pull my fingers from her body. Bringing my fingers up to my nose, I inhale her scent. The juices on both digits glisten, and I can’t stop myself from licking them clean.
“Thank you,” she whispers, smiling like she’s just been in heaven.
“Get cleaned up. I’ll wait at the car for you.” I lean in, planting a gentle kiss to her lips and leave her in the restroom.
When she joins me outside, her cheeks are still pink, and her eyes still shimmer with happiness. I open the door, allowing her to slip into the passenger seat. Once I’m beside her, I start the engine and pull out onto the road.
“What if I was dating Hudson when we had our first scene? Would you have still fucked me that night?” Her question makes me smile. It’s innocent, genuinely so.
“I’m a man with very few morals, darling. If I want something, I take it,” I inform her easily while keeping my eyes on the road. “If you were still with Hudson, I’d fuck your tight little cunt, fill it with my cum, then send you back to him so he could eat your pussy and taste me inside you.”
Her gasp is the only response I get, so I leave it at that. We could continue this conversation back at the house later, but right now, I want to make sure she enjoys a normal day, or date, whichever way you look at it.
Madison
It’s been almost two weeks since Callan’s been in my life. He’s the only reason I frequented Seven Sins so much. I know his brother owns the club. Carrick is an enigma, and now that he’s engaged to Peyton, he’s even more wanted. I’ve overheard women talk about how they wanted to snag him up. They want what Peyton has, and as much as I agree that Carrick is handsome, it’s his older brother who’s stolen my attention.
“Good morning, Blossom.” A deep rumble startles me from reading in the early morning sunshine streaming through my window.
When my eyes lift to the doorway, Callan’s handsomely rugged face makes my stomach flutter wildly. “What are you doing?” He stalks closer, setting a mug on the nightstand.
Coffee.
“You’ve brought me coffee?”
“You’re running a tad late,” he says, his bodyguard demeanor sliding into place. That’s when I allow my gaze to really look at him. Dressed in his uniform — a white button-up that seems to be stretched over tightly packed muscle, along with the dark slacks all my father’s entourage wears — he looks ever the professional.
“How can I be late?”
“To meet with your little friend, Amber.” He says her name with distaste all over his features. As if it tastes foul on his tongue.
I push up in bed, leaning my back on the headboard and lift the mug of steaming hot liquid to my mouth. “You don’t like her?” I ask, after taking a tentative sip.
He scowls, which causes me to giggle. Dark eyes meet mine. “She’s a bad influence,” he mutters, settling on the small stool at my vanity. He looks strange sitting there. A big man on the tiny white chair.
“Everyone is an influence on others. It’s up to you if you allow them to have that control over you.”
He stares at me for a long while before nodding, then offering his response. “Seems like my little flower is pretty intelligent for a little girl.”
“And I’ve told you before, I’m not—”
“I know, baby girl, I just enjoy watching that fire blaze in your eyes when I annoy you,” he says. The side of his mouth kicks up into a full-blown smirk that has me shifting under the covers.
“Fuck you, Callan,” I bite out, teasing him, taunting him, and he smirks.
“Say that again, baby girl,” he threatens with a deep growl, animalistic and feral. And it’s so damn sexy all I want is for him to devour me.
“Fuck. You. Callan.” I know I’m provoking the beast, but I’m aching for him.
He moves swiftly, pulling me off the bed, bending me over the edge until he can tug at my panties. Once they’re sitting at my thighs, he rains down six harsh swats on my ass until I’m a trembling mess.
My knees are still shaky when he pulls my panties up and straightens me. Then, with a gentle touch on my chin, lifting it slightly so I’m looking directly into his eyes, he tells me, “Now, the next time you’re bratty, I’ll do that in public.”
“You’re—”
“Insufferable? An arsehole? Save it, sweetheart,” he murmurs, bringing his lips to mine. “I’ve heard it all before. You want this” — he gestures between us with his index finger — “then you’ll have to get over the fact that I want to fuck you senseless anywhere and everywhere.”
He brushes his lips over mine. It’s a gentle yet commanding gesture. My ass is still stinging from my punishment, but it’s a delicious kind of pain. The kind I crave.
Callan has a way of stealing my breath, gripping my heart as if he’s just pulled it from my chest. His tongue darts into my mouth, licking at mine. We’re in a duel for more. Aching and needy, I press my body against his hard one. My soft curves mold to him as if I’m a second skin.
When he pulls away, I’m staring up at him with nothing more than short, quick breaths. Gently, he swipes at my cheeks. “You’re so pretty when you cry.”
“You like seeing me cry?”
The corner of his mouth quirks into a grin, a smirk that makes his face light up with hunger. “I like seeing you lost in pleasure. And I like knowing that I’m the one who gave it to you.”
“You act like you want to claim and own me,” I counter, folding my arms in front of my chest to keep myself guarded, but it’s an act. I know that because there’s nowhere I can go, nothing I can do to stop my feelings for this man.
“All of you, even your pretty little p
ussy and ass too.” He chuckles, earning him a swat from me.
“Do you have to be so vulgar?”
“Blossom, you love it when I’m vulgar. In fact.” He leans in, his mouth latching onto my neck, his teeth biting down as he sucks the flesh into his mouth so hard it elicits a yelp from me. He pulls away, admiring his handiwork. “You love when I’m filthy because you’re a dirty little girl.” He steps back, releasing me from his hold.
“So, what do we do now?”
“Now you go shower, get dressed, and we need to go shopping for a dress. The charity ball your father requested I escort you to is tomorrow,” he says.
“Shit, I forgot about it. Do I have to go?”
“Yes. He won’t be there, so he needs you to represent the Parker family,” Callan offers.
“And you’re my plus one?” I question incredulously.
He nods easily as if it’s nothing. But it’s not nothing. This is something. This is . . .
“It’s work, Madison, not a date,” he assures me as if he can see my mind working rapidly at the thought of dating him.
“I never said it was.” My retort is met with a chuckle.
“You think I can’t see how your pretty little head works, Blossom?” He leans closer as if he’s about to impart some wisdom upon me. “I know what that filthy little mind of yours desires. I’ve been around far longer than you have, and I know exactly what a woman wants and needs.”
“You’re overly confident, Mr. O’Leary,” I tell him. “I would suggest you don’t assume what’s going on in my head, because I’m not that transparent.” I smile, placing my hands on his chest in an attempt to push him away.
He’s a savage. And I want more. So much more. My phone hisses with a text message from the nightstand, breaking our contact, and I wonder if it’s my dad or if it’s my best friend. I’m about to pick it up when the chirpy ringtone I set as my father’s sings to me.
“Hi, Daddy,” I answer, settling myself on the edge of the bed.