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“Come here.” I pad over to him, and when I stop at his bare feet, he pulls me down on a twist so I’m sitting on his lap overlooking the pool and craggy shore. The sea stretches for miles, and the sun is slowly falling past the horizon. If I were with anyone else, I would possibly find this moment romantic, but the circumstances don't really allow for it. I feel stiff sitting here with him. His arms are placed respectfully on the chair arms, and after a few long minutes of difficult silence, a hand moves, and I tense, but he loosely wraps it around my waist. “Relax, Zara.”
“I can't,” I admit feebly. He's a pretty intimidating guy, not to mention virile, and I feel like he is going to pounce any second. He doesn't, but he does begin to massage my shoulder and neck, relaxing me on the spot. I melt into his embrace and groan sleepily as thick fingers dig into my knotted muscles. He works my neck, pressing firmly, and eases all aches. I hum out my appreciation, soft lips touch the curve of my neck, and I shudder out a little breath. Those hands that have sent me into a relaxed stupor roam around to my chest. The blanket slips away, and he gives my breasts the same attention. His legs shift, and mine are manoeuvred, leaving me exposed. Down one hand goes, and I moan, already anticipating the roar of an orgasm.
“You're incredible,” he tells me, “so responsive, and you’re the sexiest woman I ever laid eyes on.” My heart thrums as my head drops back.
“Don't stop now. I’m actually starting to like you,” I pant as his fingers swirl provocatively until I’m whimpering. A dark chuckle flows past my ear, and I can’t ignore that delicious tightening at the apex of my thighs.
“Oh, god.” I rock my hips, and Callan’s hand drops away. I suck in a ragged breath and try to look back over my shoulder, but he is already lifting me off his lap and tugging me inside. I’m at a half run to keep up with his giant strides when he kicks out the dining chair, puts me in its place and bends me over. “Oomph” I grip the edges and push back when I feel him line up before I’m gifted with more blinding pleasure.
I’m lying in a big bed with this beast of a man beside me, listening to the rush of waves and the call of birds. I stare at the sun, trying to break through the dark. My need to flee from the life I have created burns hotter than ever. Callan’s head is nestled in his hands, arms stretched up on either side of his face, pulling his wide flank on full display. He looks photoshopped, and I sigh quietly, watching him discreetly—the restrained violence in him oddly fascinates me. What drives a man to be so dangerous, so callous, so unforgiving?
My body aches from every minute that has been devoted to me, but my lips remain untouched. I don’t like it, but it keeps this to what it is, and it's less intimate this way. But it’s the one thing I really want to do. Kiss him.
I want to press my lips to his just as much as I want to slink into the shadows and hide. I know this man can make that happen. Callan lives on the wrong side of the law. He makes his own rules and lives without fear. He's my way out of this. He's the dark I need. This lawless man is my way to a new life. I could almost laugh at my stupidity. I was running from the one man who can help me. He may be everyone's villain, but he is going to be my saviour.
“I know you're looking at me,” he grumbles. His head twists my way, and I fight a slight smile. “Come here.” His chin lifts, coaxing me his way. I go, of course, I go. He is spectacular, and I enjoy the attention he seems to want to give me. I climb on his stomach and use my hands to keep me upright as he stares at me lazily, his cold irises taking a leisurely stroll down my naked body.
The sheer hope he could bring to giving me a new life wins, and before I can stop myself, I run my hands up his chest and lift his chin to meet my eyes.
“I need you to make me disappear, Callan,” I say quietly. His gaze is neutral. He doesn't move a muscle, no reaction, just that lazy look. I thought I had perfected indifference, but this man is a pro.
“You do, do you?” he drawls, his head twisting to give him the space to look over me in awed assessment.
“Yes,” I breathe, uneasy about voicing my deepest desire to such an unpredictable man. I sit back and watch him for some reaction. He barely blinks. His control is as unnerving, and it is unwavering, and his hands glide up my thighs and grip my hips. “Please?” I ask quietly, swallowing a thick lump in my throat.
“Why?”
“Does it really matter?” I frown. His jaw twitches, and I’m so focused on that one little action that I’m not prepared for when he flips us and pins me to the bed. I grunt at his weight, crushing me into the bed, so he shifts, easing up my lungs.
“What are you running from?” he asks sombrely. I expected that question, and I don’t blame him, but the less he knows, the better, right?
“Maybe from you?” I grin, earning a marginal smirk.
“Glamming it up no longer any fun?” His weight is a lot for me, but I don’t complain. I’m swaddled by him, and despite knowing this man has the strength to snap my neck, I feel unusually safe, too safe. I don’t like that either. I want to wrap myself around him and let go of the fear, the past. The calm people experience with the luxury of safety would wash over me. I’d be clear and tranquil like the most serene of seas. Callan may appear calm and collected now, but he is no doubt as dangerous and lethal as a storming sea, volatile and crushing. I can’t let myself be caught up in feelings.
“It never was fun,” I admit. “Can you make it happen?” I whisper, staring hopefully at him. I don't care about the cost. I will buy my freedom if I have to. Beg for it.
“I can,” he answers earnestly. I nod, sucking in a deep breath, feeling painfully closer to my goal, shaking. This is it. I’m going to leave this behind me, live for the first time ever. “But I won’t,” he enlightens me coolly.
My gaze sharpens, my face a mix of hurt and annoyance.
“Why?” I exclaim. I should have known better. I've given him a snippet of information, an insight, a little clue into who Zara Reid is and dammit if he isn't going to use it to his advantage.
“Because I just got you. I’m not done playing,” he murmurs, dropping his head to nip at my jaw.
“I thought you only took a woman once,” I scoff, irritated that he is manipulating the situation to his advantage. “I’m surprised I wasn’t kicked out after you came,” I huff, trying to push him off. He did say one night, but I’m being petulant.
“If you’d been anyone else, you’d be walking back to your hotel right now.” He thrusts, making my mouth slam shut. “I’m quite enjoying fucking London's top model.” He grins wolfishly.
“Do you have to be so crude?” I mutter, trying and failing to ignore his mouth inching towards my breast.
“Yes,” he groans, his mouth now working my nipple. Oh hell, his tongue swirls, then flattens.
“Callan.” Gasping, I try to push against his hands, but he doesn't budge. His tongue swirls once again with intent. “Oh god, wait, no,” I pant. He nips the tight bud, and sparks fly over my skin, tapering right down to between my thighs. I want to slam my legs shut, but the heavy body between them won’t allow for it. He sucks hard, and my protest turns to a moan, “Oh, please.”
“Which is it? Wait, please, stop, start?” He lifts his brow, but before I can answer, he sinks deep inside me, chasing the wind right out of my lungs.
“Ah, hell,” he groans. “I’ll make you disappear, maybe even see a few stars.” He is pumping in and out with slow, deep thrusts. My wrists held fast, but as soon as he lifts his weight on his arms, my wrists become locked in place. He rears back and slams deeply, our mouths dropping open on silent cries, which soon turn into a deep moan from me.
