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My body disobeys. It’s ruled by his touch and not by the rationale in my head that seems to get foggier and foggier with each passing second.
“Tell me I can fuck you,” he grits out. Do I really want to deny myself this? Deny myself him?
I don’t think Callahan Sharpe has ever had to work hard to get a woman. He said as much that first night. If I’m worth it to him, then he’ll figure it out.
I never would have stood up to Clint like I just did to Callahan. I like this new, stronger me.
The question is, what is the right answer? What is it that Callahan can offer me that will be enough for me to risk everything I have going for me?
I’m not an idiot in thinking our time spent will be anything more than wild monkey sex as Lizzy called it, but if he has to earn it, then maybe he’ll be less likely to be careless about keeping what’s happening a secret.
Besides, it might be fun in the meantime. A little flirting. A lot of wanting and not getting. Hell, we jumped right to the endgame. Maybe a little cat and mouse will be good for a bit.
I emit an exasperated sigh. First, I get domineering, sexy Callahan. Then I get brooding, I’m going to pretend I’m not Johnnie Walker, Callahan. And now I get playful, boyish Callahan. I don’t want him to be any of them because it’s damn attractive.
“You don’t want to play with this fire,” he whispers, the warmth of his breath on my lips. “Maybe I look forward to being burned.”
“But be warned, I’m not patient, especially when what I want is sexy as hell and within reach.”
I know why it bugs me, any man would, but what I can’t put my finger on is why it’s sexy as hell too. Being denied. Being challenged. Having to work for something I’ve never had to work for before.
I’m already screwed as it is, so I might as well go all in. If I have to suffer, she has to suffer too.
She wants to play? Let’s play.
The land of one-night stands, my ass. Like I’m going to let her hang out there by herself where other men can look and want and touch when I can’t.
This is their everything. And they’ll see it as more favoritism. More Callahan is the pet. To me, I was just handed a death sentence.
“Because it’ll make the man get creative. And if a guy like that, who can have anyone, actually tries to answer you, then you at least know he’s really interested.”
The beer has nothing on what Sutton Pierce does to me.
My hands fist into balls because I’m desperate to touch and take, and I know if I start, I won’t be able to stop myself until I have every fucking inch of her.
A flirting, creative Callahan is drop-your-panties hot. Then again, I guess he already proved that in his own, unique way. Game on, Sharpe.
Jesus. If I didn’t think he was sexy before, now, with those words, and his heated stare, I definitely would have.
“That just means you’ll know I’m naked every time I pass by your desk. You’ll know just what’s within fingertips’ reach when I slowly bend over to pick up a file that fell off my desk.”
An eyebrow raises but he does what I say anyway. His strong hand moves from the base of his shaft to the tip and back. It’s mesmerizing to watch. Sexy. Arousing. Intoxicating in the most carnal of ways.
His groan is everything. Part torture, part satisfaction.
“Can’t blame a man for wanting to taste his brownie points.”
Staring at the door he just left through, I can’t help but come to the realization that it’s even harder to resist him than I originally thought. I just have to keep reminding myself I don’t care about him.
And definitely not the fact that he keeps trying to answer my question when it’s unanswerable to begin with.
It allows me to immerse myself in the bullshit numbers so I can get this over and done with. So I can walk the fuck away. From the resort and the family business.
Christ. When have I ever let a woman lead me around by the balls without at least a little squeeze now and then? Never. Fucking never.
“And sometimes I think things happen at the right time just when we need it most.” What the hell does that mean, Cal? You’re not talking about her, right? There’s no way you’re talking about her.
To know it wasn’t dread filling him at the sight of me but rather pleasure.
I care about Callahan Sharpe. More than I think I even want to admit to myself.
“You have an iron will, Collins, because I’ve gotta be honest, you’re killing me slowly.”
But I think Callahan Sharpe just got to me by doing exactly the opposite of what I expected. By respecting me and my wishes. Was that the answer I was looking for? I don’t know . . . but it feels pretty damn close.
And I fear Callahan Sharpe has more of a chance of hurting me emotionally than Clint ever did.
I sit and swing, enjoying the sunshine on my face, the ocean breeze all around me, and when I finally decide to go inside, I know the answer to my question. I don’t know if Callahan will ever figure it out, but I sure as hell plan on having fun if he tries to.
And yet, while I’m more than sexually frustrated, there must be something fucking wrong with me when I say the woman can kiss. And can kiss in a way that makes every damn bone in your body want her but be satisfied with not getting more.
And not because she’s holding out, but because she’s the only goddamn thing I want.
Sutton has broken my libido. Goddamn broken it so that all I want is her. How fucking fair is that? To want a woman who I don’t deserve but crave nonetheless?
Walking away at the club was hard. Wanting her is even harder. And this back and forth is hardest on my balls—who are feeling the brunt of this game.
Next time, I won’t. Next time, I’ll say fuck the bullshit game and take exactly what I want because this, her, us, is driving me fucking insane.
Is this her way of asking if I’m over her? Does she not see that that’s the furthest thing from the truth?
“You make me feel alive, Callahan.” “Sutton . . .” This woman leaves me at a loss for words more than anyone else in my life.
Because I want you to remember. Because I want to know every fucking sensation is being felt by you too.
Because I’m pretty certain that once Sutton Pierce finds herself, she’ll be gone to me. She’ll know her worth, she’ll own it, and she’ll know without a doubt that a guy like me, who doesn’t make promises, isn’t worth her salt.
The game has changed. And this selfish prick doesn’t want to play anymore.
“Maybe one day you’ll fall in love and bring her to this place too, Callahan. Your mother would love that.”
But Sutton deserves to ask that question. She also has no reason to be jealous of Gia, and I need her to know that. I need to find her. Because when I think of Sutton, I see everything I think I need.
Fuck the rules. Fuck the waiting. Fuck the talking. She’s mine. Only mine. I’ve walked the line and done the dance and now I’m going to fucking have her. She needs to know. She’s mine.
“Fuck my brother. This is about us. About what you said last night. About us. About wanting there to be an us.”
You’re the only woman I want to be with, Collins. Just you. And I need to be inside you right fucking now.” “Yes, God, yes,” she cries as I pull her close to kiss her.
