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He grabs my wrist and applies pressure to force me to drop the lighter.
“Freddie won’t be happy if you break my wrist,” I say.
“Won’t he?” He slackens the scarf around my neck with his other hand to eye the marks Freddie’s fingers left behind. It must have loosened without me noticing. “It doesn’t look like he’s giving you special treatment anymore.”
“Screw you.”
“What’s wrong?” he mocks. He trails his forefinger along the marks on my neck that’ll bruise by morning. “Are you sad about not being the boss’s favourite anymore?”
“I don’t need to be anyone’s favourite.”
“Really?” He brushes a rogue strand of hair off my cheek. “Because I think you’d like to be my favourite.”
I scowl. “This may come as a shock, but not every woman finds you irresistible.”
Even though he does have sexy eyes and a bad-boy biker look that makes most women melt. Callen smirks. Clearly, he’s having the same train of thought as me. His never-ending confidence is infuriating.
“Are you sure about that, princess?” he purrs.
“You’re so full of yourself.”
His eyes lock on mine like they’re sealing a promise. “You’ll be full of me soon.”
“Puh-lease!” I snort and break his hypnotic trance. “You need to work on your dirty talk. Using a line like that won’t seduce anyone.”
In a quick manoeuvre, I duck underneath his arms to make a break for it, but Callen doesn’t let me go. He grabs my arm to yank me back. I raise my knee to hit him in the balls, but he’s quicker, pushing me against the wall.
His hard cock presses against my jeans. I can’t will myself to move. A shiver of desire travels down my spine. People say they’ll dance on the graves of people they hate, but I’ve never heard anyone say anything about fucking in a crypt before.
“I’m not trying to seduce you,” Callen says. Why does his Scottish accent have to be so growly? “Ineedto have you.”
My logical reasoning takes over. “Youneedto get off me.”
Before I change my mind, I shove him square in the chest with both hands, sending him flying.
“You want me as much as I want you,” Callen says, regaining his balance. “You can’t resist me, even though you don’t want to admit it.”
“Find someone else who wants to screw you,” I say. “I’ve got work to do.”
His face falls for a split second, and then his features harden. “I don’t want anyone else.”
“Is that the best you’ve got?” I tilt my head to the side. “Your charm won’t work on me. You’ve said it yourself, we’re similar. I don’t buy your bullshit.”
“Fine, if that’s how you want to play it,” he says. “Why don’t we be honest with each other?”
“Honest?” I scoff. “You don’t know the meaning of the word.”
“Give me your hand.”
I cross my arms, refusing to obey. “Why should I?”
“Because I’m going to be honest with you.”
I sigh and relent, holding out my hand. Callen’s a stubborn prick. The sooner we get this charade over with, the quicker I can return to plotting Trout’s imminent murder.
He takes my hand and steps closer, towering above me. He places my palm over his chest. My blood rushes to my cheeks as he moves my hand down his body, letting me feel the outline of his chiselled abs and well-carved six-pack. He keeps going until my fingers rest on the waistband of his jeans, and his hard bulge twitches underneath the straining denim.
“Can you feel how hard I am?” he asks as my hand touches the top of his cock for a split second.
