“Don’t be an ass, Calloway. I know you’re better than that.”
I stared her down because that was untrue. “Looks like you’re getting to know the real me.”
She shook her head in disappointment. “You can put on this act if you want, but I see right through it.”
No, she didn’t.
“You know I’m right, but you can’t admit it. You’re stubborn and a bitchface.”
Bitchface?
“But let me give you some advice, Calloway.” She stepped closer to me, crossing her arms over her chest. “A real man admits when he’s wrong. He acknowledges his flaws and doesn’t hide behind his pride. Drop the ego and man up.” She looked me up and down like she wasn’t impressed with what she saw then walked away.
This time, I let her have the last word—because she’d earned it.
After a few hours in solitude, I emerged from my office and went downstairs to find her. She was sitting on the couch with her folders scattered around her. She was working from home tonight with a glass of wine in hand. She was still in the same clothes she wore to work, her heels slipped off and resting on the ground.
I walked to the couch, my heavy footsteps announcing my approach.
She didn’t look up.
I sat beside her and stared into her lap. She had budget reports and different case studies scattered across the pages. Sticky notes with illegible script were posted everywhere. She thrived in disarray.
She continued to ignore me—and she did it well.
“Put your stuff away. I want to talk to you.”
“You don’t always get what you want just because you demand it.” She didn’t falter in her writing.
My dominant side was coming out even more lately. The second we’d started fucking, I couldn’t control myself. I wanted to command her to do many things. In some ways, I was already treating her like my submissive even though she wasn’t ready for the job. “I came down here to apologize. Please give me the opportunity to do it correctly.” It hurt my chest to talk like that, to ask for something instead of just taking it. She brought me out of my comfort zone and made me experience a world I despised—one where I wasn’t in charge.
“That’s better.” She closed the folder and tossed her things aside. Then she looked at me expectantly, her arms over her chest and her tits perky from her posture. A cleavage line formed right down the center, perfect for my cock to fit in.
But now wasn’t the time for that. “I shouldn’t have talked to you that way. I shouldn’t have gotten drunk like that. I’m sorry.” I forced myself not to grit my teeth. I didn’t want to be an asshole and drive her away, but I didn’t want to give up everything I believed in at the same time. Keeping Vanilla was a lot more complicated than I thought it would be.
“It’s okay.” She accepted my apology with sincerity, and she finally looked at me with those obsessive eyes I’d come to adore. “I just hope you’ll talk to me about these things instead of hitting the bottle. Whenever something is getting me down, I usually talk to Christopher about it. Makes me feel better.”
“I guess I could give it a try.”
“I meant what I said. We need to trust each other if this is going to work. So we need to be honest. I know that’s hard because you have your issues, and we both know I have mine. But we need to try.”
I was willing to do anything to keep her. That was something I knew with unwavering certainty. “Okay.”
Softness entered her eyes, and like nothing happened last night, she forgave me. She put it in the past and moved on with the snap of a finger. Her ability to forgive so easily astounded me. In fact, I was in awe of her. I would never forgive my father for what he did to both my mother and me. But since he was dead, he could never earn my forgiveness anyway. “So, do you want to talk about it?”
Not even in the slightest. “I’m not ready, Vanilla. But I will be eventually.”
She accepted the response without question. “That’s okay.” She scooted into my side and wrapped her arm through mine. Her affection warmed me and chased away the winter chill that seeped into my bones. “I’m always here when you need me.”
“I know.” My lips found her forehead, and I pressed a kiss to the skin. “And you know I’m always here for you too.”
21
Rome
I installed a bell over the door so I would know when someone walked into the office. After Calloway first walked in on me gossiping about him to Taylor, I was mortified. He overheard my most intimate feelings, and I couldn’t hide my embarrassment.
And I didn’t embarrass easily.
My relationship with Calloway wasn’t black and white. Some days were good, and some were bad. But I carried a lot of baggage, and I was beginning to understand he carried even more. Both of us were broken, and I didn’t think two broken people could fix each other. But maybe in our case we could.
I wanted to know what his nightmares were about. I wanted to know what made him so angry. I wanted to know what would make him drink nearly a full bottle of bourbon on his own in the middle of the night. I knew it had something to do with this father, but I suspected there was more to the story.
But I hadn’t told him everything about myself either. I guarded my past securely. The only person who knew every little detail was Christopher—and that was because he was my brother. My closest friend was Taylor, and she only knew a fraction of what I’d been through. By keeping everything to myself, I didn’t earn anyone’s pity. At the foster home, I’d gotten that look from so many parents that walked by me and had no interest in adopting me.
I hated that look.
But Calloway made me open up more than I ever did with anyone else. I told him about my past, my time in foster care, and those long days inside the basement. He gave me that look of pity, but when I asked him to stop, he did.
With enough time and work, I really thought we could have something amazing.
I cared for him in ways I’d never anticipated. He was deep in my heart, and my obsession didn’t derive from his gorgeous body and his awesome skills in the sack. Those were just bonuses, like winning the lottery power ball.
Sometimes, he became too aggressive, as if he could boss me around. It rubbed me the wrong way when he expected me to listen like I was some kind of pet. But when he took control in the bedroom, I didn’t seem to mind at all.
When I pushed back, he would eventually yield, and when I stood up to him, he respected me. Even when he was in his darkest mood, he would listen to me if I asked him to. He was a complicated man with difficult emotions. He wasn’t easy to understand, but neither was I.
In the midst of all the events over the past few weeks, I’d fallen even harder for him. It was so strong that I didn’t care about the driver who picked me up and took me home every day. I didn’t care about his issues sleeping with me in bed. I didn’t care that every time we had sex I was a little sore because his dick was so big. I didn’t care about any of the negatives because he was everything.
I wasn’t even sure how I got there.
The bell rang overhead, and I snapped out of my thoughts. I was sitting at my desk and had completely forgotten what I was doing because I’d zoned out. Calloway began as a small thought and then grew until he filled my entire brain.
I glanced at my computer and realized I was in the middle of writing an email to a donor. I couldn’t remember what I’d already wrote, but I would come back to it later. I looked up from my desk to address whoever stopped by.
In a heavy black coat with a gray suit underneath stood a man I despised. His brown hair was shorter than it used to be, almost buzzed along the scalp. His facial hair was thick like he hadn’t shaved in over a week. The same evil twinkle was in his eyes, the sparkle of mischief. His smile wasn’t cute. Somehow, it was terrifying. When he turned that look on me, I wanted to throw my computer at his head. “There’s my girl.”
Why did murder have to be illegal? “Hello, Hank. How are you?”
> “Good. But better now.”
I kept the derision out of my voice because being indifferent would probably get him out of there quicker.
“I went by your apartment the other day. Looks like you moved.”
“Yep.” I wasn’t going to elaborate on my living status. I didn’t want him to follow me, but if he did show up at Calloway’s doorstep, I’d love to see what would happen to him. “So, were you planning on making a donation to For All? If not, I’ve got things to do.”
He chuckled like I’d made some kind of joke. “Right to the point. Like usual.”
I dropped my civility because I couldn’t handle it anymore. “Get out, Hank. Otherwise, I’m calling the police.”
“So they’ll do what?” He smiled in his typical, cruel way. “Bring me lunch?”
I’d filed a restraining order against him a year and a half ago, but the judge denied it. Hank had so much power in government I was defenseless against him. The justice system failed me horribly, and I had no rights or protection against this man. I was on my own—literally. “So I don’t bash your skull in.” I grabbed the bat sitting under my desk and stood to my full height, gripping the handle with both hands. He might be able to overpower me, but I would get a lot of good swings in before that happened. “You want to rumble, asshole? Give me your best shot.”
His smile dropped, and he became uneasy. He was at a disadvantage by not knowing what other weapons could he hiding around. “Hadn’t seen you in a while. Just wanted to check on things.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m good.”
“Where are you living?” The question came from nowhere. It must have been something he meant to ask before he even walked in.
Like I’d ever tell. “None of your concern.”
“You aren’t in the system anywhere. Your mail is still going to your old address.”
I hadn’t had a chance to forward it. But now, I’d make sure to send it to a PO box. “Get the fuck out before I kill you.” I’d never meant a threat more in my life. I would accept a lifetime of imprisonment as long as this asshole was off the streets. Sons of bitches like him preyed on the weak—like I used to be. They took advantage of a person’s lack of power and exploited it as much as possible. I would never forget what he did to me, how he broke my arm in two places.
Hank gave me a threatening look as he backed up to the door. He was afraid of me—to some degree. He knew I had the rage and self-defense skills to kick his ass if necessary. The only way he could go head-to-head with me was if he had a gun. I could handle anything else. “I’ll be seeing you, baby.” His back hit the door, and he opened it as he kept moving. He stepped out, and the door shut behind him, the bell ringing.
“In hell.”
22
Calloway
I walked inside the house then immediately enveloped Rome in my arms. She was in the kitchen like every other night, and this time, I didn’t care about dinner. I pressed her against the counter and kissed her hard on the mouth, my cock stiff and eager to be inside her. My tongue darted into her mouth and danced with hers, a seductive tango.
She gripped my biceps and crinkled the material of my suit. Her sweltering tits pressed against me, hard through the blouse she wore. When her nails dug into the fabric, she moaned into my mouth, a sound sexier than anything else I’d ever heard.
“Missed you.” I was a dick to her last night, and I knew it. The fight we had was stupid, and if I wanted to be man enough to keep her, I’d have to straighten out. I wasn’t willing to break for her, but I was willing to bend.
“Missed you too.”
I hiked up her dress then set her on the counter. Her panties were brushed to the side, and I pulled my cock out of my slacks and boxers to slip inside her. As I anticipated, she was soaked. I slipped inside her and felt her stretch, feeling every inch of heaven as I slid inside. “Now I missed you even more.”
She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me harder than before, her pussy taking the pounding I gave her. We’d been fucking for weeks, and I was finally beginning to break her in. Her pussy accommodated my size better, and she seemed to enjoy it even more. I loved conquering her as virgin land, as an untouched paradise no man had ever enjoyed before. I wanted to be the only man inside her for the rest of time.
We ate dinner together in our underwear. I wore my boxers at the table, my chest and arms bare. She wore my collared shirt with her panties underneath. With her messy hair and puckered lips, she looked like a goddamn fantasy.
“How was work?” I wanted to fuck her again, but I would give her a break—a short one.
She took a bite of her food and slowly chewed it before she swallowed. “Good. Pretty boring.” She looked down at her plate as she stabbed another piece of meat with her fork. “How was yours?”
“The same. Boring.”
“Too bad we can’t be bored together.” She waggled her eyebrows at me playfully.
I liked it when she flirted with me. “I have a feeling the workday wouldn’t be boring.”
“Me too.” She took a few more bites of her mediocre meal before she pushed the dish away. “I have some good news.”
She was ready to try anal? “Hmm?”
“I found an apartment.” She grabbed her laptop from the opposite side of the table and flipped it open.
A brick fell into my stomach.
“It’s in Chelsea. It’s a little closer to work than my old place, and the neighborhood is decent. It’s more expensive than my other apartment, but I think I can swing it.” She turned the computer so I could see the screen.
It was a simple gray building with dirty windows. I recognized it because it was next door to a Chinese restaurant I’d been to a few times. When she described the neighborhood as decent, she didn’t use the appropriate word. A beautiful woman like her shouldn’t be living in such a vulnerable place. The second I looked at her, I became obsessed with her. I could only imagine every other guy experienced the same sensation the moment they laid eyes on her. And I’m sure most of them didn’t understand the word no.
“I put my application in this afternoon.”
Now I was pissed. “Without telling me?” I lost this argument before it even began, and I knew it. I needed to keep my dominance in check, to take it down a few notches before I showed her who I truly was. But when I got angry, I couldn’t keep it back.
“What do you mean?” Her eyebrows narrowed in a quizzical way. “I assumed I wouldn’t be living here forever.”
“But you could have asked for my advice about finding the right place.”
“Calloway, I’m a big girl. I can find my own apartment.”
I breathed through my nose so I could keep my respiration in check. “Obviously, you can’t. Because that place is a dump.”
Her jaw nearly dropped. “First of all, you haven’t seen the inside. And second of all, fuck you. Not everyone is a millionaire.”
“It’s not about money. That place isn’t safe. I’ve been there before, and there’s a bus stop right across the street and a homeless shelter just a block over.”
“What’s wrong with homeless people?”
I wanted to flip the table over. “Nothing. I spend my life helping the less fortunate, and you know that. I just don’t want you in a dangerous situation.”
“Homeless people aren’t dangerous.”
I wanted to slap her. “Not all of them. But some.”
She leaned back in her chair, her arms crossed over her chest. “Frankly, this is all I can afford. I’m okay with that, but you need to get off your high horse.”
“It’s not about money.” It’d never been about money, and I wished she would understand that. “Let me get you a nice place. I have a great real estate agent that knows all the nooks and crannies of this city.”
“I’m not looking to buy, and you know it.”
“But I can buy something for you.”
Now steam was coming out of her nose. Her eyes narro
wed in fury, and she looked like she wanted to flip the table over—and then throw it at me. “I don’t need your charity, Calloway. I told you I don’t want your pity, so stop giving it to me.”
“I’m not pitying you.” Sometimes I wished she were like other girls. Isabella would take gifts from me without blinking an eye. If Rome were really my submissive, she would accept an apartment without a single argument. “I understand where you’re coming from. I really do. But you need to understand where I’m coming from.”
“And that is?”
“Rome, you’re mine.” She was mine in more ways than she realized. If I showed her exactly what that meant, she might take off. “I want to take care of you. I want to keep you safe. That’s all I want. And I’m not a bad guy for feeling that way.”
Her anger dimmed, but only slightly.
“That’s who I am, Vanilla. I like to take care of people. It’s not charity or pity. You’re very important to me, and my lady shouldn’t be walking past bums as she tries to get into her apartment. She shouldn’t have to listen to gunshots in the middle of the night. She should live in luxury like the queen that she is. I’m a king, and I take care of my queen.”
“I only want to be a queen if I make myself a queen.”
“What’s the difference?” I admired her independence and resilience. It was one of the reasons I was attracted to her in the first place. But times like these made me realize it was biting me in the ass.
“There’s a big difference.”
How did I defeat an opponent more stubborn than myself? How did I overrule someone who resisted oppression? How did I govern someone who didn’t believe in rules? “You know I’m a man who gets what he wants. And I know you’re a woman who gets what she wants. I think we’re going to have to compromise here.”
She shook her head slightly. “I’m not letting you buy me an apartment.”
Black Obsidian Page 23