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Not my finest move.
I want to say so much. Words jumble in my head in an angry black cloud.
But I refuse to speak first.
He needs to say something to me. Even if it’s not an apology, it has to be something. No way will I talk first.
Damn it! We move slowly to the music, and he still says nothing.
I should let go and move away in a huff, but I can’t.
Physically, I can’t separate myself from him. It feels so…good. So…right.
Finally, he moves his lips toward my ear. I wait for his sweet words begging my forgiveness.
Instead, he nips the outer shell of my ear.
That’s it. I yank myself out of his arms and walk away from the dance area.
Brock and Dave have moved on to someone else—the woman Donny was talking to before he cut in on my dance. I have no idea who she is, but she’s tall and beautiful, so she’s just their type.
So now I’ve got no one. I head toward the house before tears arrive. I’m so not a crier. Rory and Mads have been known to break down, but not I. Never. I steel myself against tears.
Still, my eyelids are stinging. I hate that feeling. Hate it with a burning passion.
I will not cry. I will not cry.
Is it sadness? Anger? Hopelessness? Rage?
Yeah. All of it wrapped into one.
I’m not sure where I’m going. I’ve been to the Steel house many times, but it’s so huge. Whether it’s my subconscious or something else, I end up back in the damned library, wishing I stopped for a drink at the bar first.
Even though I’m not a big drinker, that screwdriver went down pretty smoothly, and I’m wishing for another. A double, even.
I zero in on the bookshelf that dug into my back earlier—and then my socks crumpled on the floor next to it. I walk forward and stuff them in my pocket.
The door opens, and I jerk toward it.
Donny.
“Callie,” he says.
I inhale deeply, willing back those stinging tears. Never will I cry in front of this man.
Never.
I don’t respond.
“Hey.” He walks toward me. “What’s wrong?”
I can’t help it. I scoff softly. “What do you think is wrong? You left me in here for an hour!”
“I know. I didn’t realize how much time had gone by. Why didn’t you come out?”
“I didn’t know who was waiting for me in the hall, and my phone died, so I couldn’t text anyone to come get me.”
He’s only two feet away from me now, and my body is on high alert. Goose bumps erupt on my flesh. My nipples harden.
God, the memory of him inside me, burning through me.
“I’m so sorry, Callie.” His voice is deep—deep and laced with sincerity. “I tried. People kept grabbing me, wanting me to say something, wanting to welcome me back.”
“I get it. You couldn’t spare a minute and a half to come in here and get me. After I—” I shake my head. Damn, my eyelids are stinging again.
“What will it take?” he asks. “What can I do to make this up to you?”
“You can’t. I’m humiliated. Brock found me in here. Brock!”
“And he took advantage of the situation in true Brock Steel style.”
“You mean true Rake-a-teer style. Same as you would have.”
“I’m not Brock.”
“No, but you’re one of the three. I’ll bet Brock and Dave learned every move they have from you.”
He doesn’t argue the point.
Which makes me feel even worse.
“Callie, please. I’ll ask again. What can I do to make this up to you?”
“And I just said that you can’t.”
“Does that mean you’re breaking our date for tomorrow night?”
Wow. I forgot. He’s right. I accepted a dinner date with him for tomorrow. I should break it. I should tell him I never want to see him again.
Except I don’t want to break it. I want to go out with him. Even after his despicable behavior tonight.
“Yes,” I say, “I’m breaking it.”
He moves toward me, closing the gap between us. “No. You’re not breaking it.”
“I am—”
Then his lips. On mine. Prying mine open. His tongue. Finding mine and tangling with it. His groan. A sweet vibration I feel to my toes.
Push him away, Callie.
Do it.
Don’t let him get away with this.
Instead, I respond to the kiss. I kiss him back. My arms go around his neck of their own accord. He presses into me. He’s hard. Hard as a rock. And those sparks ignite again beneath my flesh.
If he wants to fuck me again, I’m going to let him. Already I know this.
The word no doesn’t seem to be in my vocabulary when it comes to Donny Steel.
I melt against him, deepening the kiss, until—
He pulls back. Him.
“Tell me you’ll go to dinner with me tomorrow evening,” he whispers against my ear, his breath igniting me.
I say nothing.
He nips my earlobe. “Please, Callie. Tell me.”
