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“You think because you spread those legs, I will just,” his fingers snap, and I flinch, stopping where I am, “make you disappear? A famous model? Your face is everywhere. Your name is on everything. You’re asking on a whim for me to give you something people payhundreds ofthousandsfor.”
I will pay. I never suggested I wouldn’t.
“So that’s what you do?” My hands are on my hips, and I’m staring crossly as he strides towards me. I force myself not to react to the huge man stomping angrily at me until my neck is craned and I’m staring up at him. Even angry, he is crazily beautiful.
“I never said that,” he growls, inky lashes narrowing around his freezing cold stare. “In my line of work, it pays to know these things,” he pushes out through gritted teeth.
“And what exactly is this line of work?” I quip.
“You’re really starting to piss me off.”
“Wonderful, can I leave then?” I snap. With his jaw clenched and his fist knuckle-white, I expect him to throw me out, but instead, I’m swung over his shoulder. My stomach repels, and I bite my tongue to stop my lunch from coming back up. Callan powers us back through the apartment and drops me on the bed. My ankle gets yanked, and I slide along the covers before his hands hit his trousers. As soon as his cock bursts free, he groans out in relief. He's huge, and the thick tip is already glistening. He grabs the collar of his t-shirt and rips it apart before spreading my legs roughly.
“No, but we can continue this argument a different way.” He’s suddenly pressing me into the mattress and surging upwards. I snap off the bed with a pleading moan until his hand finds my hair, and he takes me with abandon.
Chapter Fourteen
I've seen more stars these past few nights than I have my whole life. I’m staring out into the dark, star-strewn sky, wondering how I got in this mess or how I get myself out. Callan is panting roughly. We’re slick with sweat, and my legs are jellified. I can't move, so I don’t. I stay still when he slips free and rolls over. I want to be cross at him for taking me as he does, but I feel so alive. Free of the constraints of life. I’m floating in the stars. Just like he promised I would be.
“You are without a doubt the most infuriating woman I ever met.” He swings himself up and looks over his shoulder at me. My petite foot kicks out, swiftly clipping his toned arse. Our furious session has done nothing to cool either of us off. We are still brimming with anger at one another.
“And you’re a massive twat,” I declare brazenly. I’m still out of breath. I push myself up and stomp past him to search for my phone. I find it along with my other belongings and get dressed, despite being sweaty and gross. I shove my feet in my heels and walk towards a wide door.
“It’s locked,” he tells me broadly.
“Then unlock it.”
“You’re not leaving.” Callan watches me in all his naked glory, and that alone makes me even angrier.
“And you can't keep me here!” I yell, shoving my finger in his direction.
“Are you due on? You’re awfully mardy?” he queries, smirking when I growl under my breath.
I look at him in sheer confusion.
“Why am I really here, Callan? What’s going on?” I drop into a wide chair and look up at him, standing butt naked, completely unabashed.
“You’re here because I intend on fucking you. A lot,” he delivers calmly. When my mouth pinches into a grim pout, he moves towards me and sighs heavily. He tucks my hair behind my ear. “I prefer the more sated Zara,” he informs me lightly.
“You’re such an arrogant pig,” I relent, flicking a disgruntled look at him, my voice petulant. What I really want is to catch him off guard with a smart retort like he does me and shake some sense into him.
His gaze does a wide sweep over my face before it rests on my angry eyes. He seems thoughtful, his mind whirling with his next words.
“Your two options include working yourself to the bone or—”
“If you even dare say anything about your bone, I will smack you.” I’m shaking angrily. His laugh vibrates around the whole apartment—it carries and carries, a dark wave of humour mocking me.
“I wish I fucking had now.” He wipes his eyes on his shoulder when I realise I’ve reduced him to tears of laughter.
“You’re not funny. It’s not funny!” I snap, trying my utmost not to be infected by his twinkly eyes and wide smile.
He sobers up and shrugs at me. His sigh is low.
“Not to you, maybe. You think I’m a prick for being so open. I like fucking you. It’s not a crime. You’re exhausting yourself with work, and given how much I make you scream, it’s a no brainer which is the more beneficial option for you.” Wow, he seriously cannot help himself.
“You have zero respect for women.” I really thought he had a nicer side after Greece. Or is it just me he doesn’t respect?
Callan shrugs, indifferent to my claim, and leans back against the wall.
