tonight?” I ask, walking into the living room. I was surprised when Callum mentioned the party for New York’s elite, even more surprised when he extended an invitation. Or rather, demanded my attendance “Are you expecting trouble at the Governor’s mansion?”
“I always expect trouble.” Callum turns at the sound of my voice, his eyes running over me from head to toe. Disapproval flashes across his face, making my stomach drop. He reaches for the jacket I discarded onto the back of a kitchen stool after having pulled it out of the closet.
“What are you planning on doing with that?” I can’t help but feel offended by his dirty look, the indignation coming out in my dry tone.
“It’s cold, and that dress barely covers you,” Callum states, like I’m not already aware.
“Are you saying I should change?” I challenge. I’m way past covering my body when a man takes me in public, no matter who he is. The next words out of his mouth will tell me a lot about what kind of a man he is. Callum’s eyes move over me, taking in every inch of my appearance—navy blue cocktail dress, strappy gold heels, gold mini bag.
“I’m saying you need to wear a coat.” The demanding edge in his tone grates on my nerves, making my defiance flare. The ever-in-control Callum asserts his dominance every chance he gets. But having him tell me what to do simply makes me want to do the complete opposite.
“I don’t need to do anything, Callum. But thanks for your concern.” Even if I was planning on wearing a coat, there’s no way in hell I’m putting it on now.
“So fucking stubborn.” Jaw clenched, he stares me down, his gaze meant to intimidate me into submission. Instead, I remain unaffected just to spite him.
“You do know you can’t actually pierce me with your stares, right?” I deadpan as he peers down at me expectantly. Hazel eyes don’t falter as he waits, holding my coat open for arms that will not be cooperating. He can keep waiting.
“I’m sure if you could really cut me with that sharp wit of yours, I would’ve bled out a long time ago,” he replies evenly. The mask of calm is set firmly in place, but I can hear the tension in his voice. His annoyance only fuels my need to poke at him.
“Oh, you wouldn’t die. I’d stitch you up.” I offer him a smile that’s sugar and spice and everything nice, batting my eyelashes. “But only once you said please.”
Callum’s shoulders set in determination, and I don’t miss how his eyes run over me. The man is the definition of ‘tightly wound’. And I’d like nothing more than to tug at the strings of his resolve and watch him unravel.
“Lexie, the only begging that’s going to happen between us will have nothing to do with pain.” He leans closer. “Now put on your fucking coat.”
Liquid heat pools inside me, desire pulsing through my veins. The air in the room thickens, the tension crackling between us like static electricity. My breathing changes, I know he can see it. Just like how I can see the raw hunger in his eyes. But if he thinks that he can control me by simply turning me on, he’s got another thing coming.
Pulling my eyes away, I look down and make a show of adjusting my breasts in my dress. My cleavage is unbelievable with this neckline, I don’t have to draw attention to it to know he’s looking.
He’s always looking.
“I don’t want to ruin my outfit. But if you’re so bothered by the cold, you can wear it.” I flip my hair over my shoulder before I step past him, and the coat, with a saucy smile. “I’ll meet you in the car.”
When I step into the elevator Callum is right on my heels, my coat still in his hands. Looks like he’s determined to bring the damn thing with us, probably to try and force me into it later. Roscoe steps in after us. “Wow, you clean up nice, Roscoe,” I say, taking in his custom black suit. “Very dapper, you’re giving James Bond a run for his money.”
“I hate monkey suits.” He’s incapable of taking a compliment, but I can see the smile twitch on his lips. I’m slowly wearing him down. “You look nice, as always.”
“Thanks.” I beam at him, using the praise to disguise my triumph over the small victory. I’ll win him over yet. “I love any excuse to dress up.”
Something tells me tonight’s going to be very interesting.
***
Calling it the Governor’s mansion isn’t an understatement. Every intricate detail screams luxury born from old money. Stepping past the threshold feels like entering an alternate reality.
Everything about this atmosphere is too perfect to be real; the people more beautiful, the live music flawless, the unnaturally white smiles too appeasing. Everywhere you look polished people dressed in designer float around and converse in dulcet tones. The diamonds are real and no smaller than my fist, and Rolex is the most affordable timepiece adorning any man’s wrist.
I’m definitely not in Harlem anymore.
Following Callum’s lead, we move through the grand entryway into what can only be described as a ballroom. Ornate cream walls hold decorative paneling and detailed crown molding give the space a decadent feeling. An impressive crystal chandelier hangs from the medallion in the center of the vaulted coffered ceiling, combining with the wall sconces to bathe the room in romantic light. Aggressively pretty people mingle around the room in clusters while uniformed waitstaff pass around trays of appetizers and flutes of champagne.
“Mr. Russo,” A man calls as he approaches, a woman by his side.
“Jack Stanza, CEO of Capitol Energy.” Callum leans down to murmur into my ear, giving me a cheatsheet to who is walking up. “Margot Primm, Governor’s Aide.”
“Welcome, so glad you could come.” Jack’s silver hair is quaffed with gel until it’s visibly stiff. The poised woman, Margot, stands next to him with a sharp brown bob and a smile that doesn’t reach her dull brown eyes.
“I never miss one of the Governor’s events when I’m in town,” Callum comments, his voice taking on a light tone that sounds foreign coming from his mouth. I glance up at him, surprised by the amiable expression on his face. I’ve never seen him look so friendly before, it’s intriguing.
“Peter Wilcox and I were just discussing those pony bets from last quarter. He was so sure that long shot was going to pay off,” Jack says, nodding to a tall, thin man standing not too far away. “I believe we both owe you quite a bit of money.”
“Oh, I remember,” Callum says easily with a laugh. Who is this carefree man beside me? “I always remember my wins, that’s the real reason I’m here. I came to collect before Wilcox tries to leave the country again.” Jack chuckles deeply at Callum’s joke, nodding largely.
“I don’t blame you, I wouldn’t trust us with our losses either.” Jack gestures towards the human stringbean named Peter Wilcox. “It’s time we paid the piper.”
“I’ll find you later,” Callum murmurs into my ear, meeting my eyes. I look up at him and nod casually. Turning to address the older gentleman he says “Lead the way.”
I watch the two men walk away, leaving me with Margot. The Governor’s Aide is rail thin, with a haughty air about her that oozes judgment and condescension. Her black chiffon dress definitely cost three figures, easy. “I love your dress. Is it Ralph Lauren?”
“Thank you, it’s Badgley Mischka.” Something about the way Margot accepts my compliment doesn’t feel anywhere as gracious as it should. Her eyes move over me in a way that makes my stomach knot. “Your dress is very bold of you. Such a brave choice, I applaud your confidence.”
The underhanded insult is more aggressive than passive, hidden only under a fake smile. My kind smile turns knowing, making a show of smoothing my hands down my waist and over my hips.
“Wow, that means a lot coming from someone like you.” I let my gaze move pointedly over her. “If you’ll excuse me.” With that, I’m walking past her, grabbing a flute of champagne off a tray as it passes.
I consider finding a quiet corner to hide from any more snotty comments about my body in this dress. But then a woman named Christine asks me where I get my nails done and I decide to mingle for a while instead. Every once in a while, I catch sight of Callum making his way around the room.
Even standing in a crowd of other important men dressed in expensive custom suits, Callum stands out. His size draws focus, standing a head above everyone around him. But it’s his dominating presence that makes it nearly impossible to look away.
Callum commands respect, knowing exactly how to engage with each person in order to get it. Watching him charm his way through a room is fascinating, a box jellyfish easily navigating deep sea waters. Deceptively elegant and captivating to distract from the potent deadliness of his sting.
When Callum smiles, his whole face transforms. The storm clouds dissipate, leaving nothing but clear skies over a sea of charm. The edges of his angular, bearded face soften, any sign of danger melting into charisma. But when I really look at him, I can tell there’s something missing—warmth, humor, enjoyment. It’s a fake smile, a mask perfected with time to appeal to this intended audience. A tool to disarm and engage. And it’s fucking working. The people around him are falling for it hook, line, and sinker.
Meeting my eyes over Christine’s head, I offer him a very fake smile of my own. One equally as bright and full of sugary-sweet false promises. His eyes narrow slightly, and I know he can read exactly what I’m saying.
I see you, Callum. They don’t, but I do.
Our eye contact is severed when a figure steps in front of me, filling my view. My eyes lift to the blonde hair, blue eyed man smiling at me. The royal blue of his suit is a pop of color amongst the sea of black and gray covering the other men in attendance. His grin is friendly, if not a little cocky, flashing straight white teeth that belong in a toothpaste commercial. There’s something about him, a cheesiness to his charm, that feels almost cartoon-ish.
“I don’t think we’ve met, I’m Daniel Taylor,” he says, his eyes flickering to my generous cleavage none too discreetly. “I couldn’t go the entire night without learning your name.” He’s not exactly my usual type, but Daniel’s a good-looking man. So I give him a bright smile.
“We wouldn’t have met, I’m new to New York.” Taking a sip of my champagne, I peer up at him through my lashes. “I’m Lexie.”
“Well, New York is lucky to have you, Lexie.” He knows how to play the game, and he’s decent at it. “Where are you from?”
“Astoria, Oregon. It’s a coastal town.”
“From one coast to the other, that’s a big change. What brings you all the way across the country to our fair city?”
“I’m a travel nurse, I came for a contract,” I answer. “Although, from my experience, concrete jungle is a more accurate description than our fair city.” Daniel’s blinding smile widens and his head tilts back in a hearty laugh. If he was a cartoon, he’d definitely be cast as the charming prince who galiantly comes charging in on his white horse to save the day whether you want his rescue or not.
“I can’t disagree with that description,” Daniel laughs. “Who do you know in the Governor’s office? Did you come alone?” His tone is asking if I plan on leaving alone. His eyes flicker over my shoulder, a look of recognition flashing across his face. I can feel Callum’s presence behind me even before he speaks.
“Taylor, I see you’ve met Lexie.”
“Russo,” Daniel’s eyes move between me and the giant now pressing to my back. The heat of his body mixes with mine from our proximity. “I suppose I can’t be surprised that this is your date.”
I’m tempted to argue that I’m not Callum’s date, but I guess it’s technically true. I did come as his plus one. And with the competitive air between the two men, a statement like that seems like striking a match while soaked in gasoline.
Not a good idea.
“How do you two know each other?” I ask, changing the subject. Or at least trying to. My question fails to ease the tension. Instead it supplies Callum with more ammo.
“Taylor is legal counsel for the Governor.” There’s something taunting in Callum’s voice when he explains. “He deals with the less complicated matters.”
I nod in understanding when realization hits me, making Daniel’s eyes narrow ever so slightly. Callum fixes the messes Daniel can’t, he’s the one burying the skeletons that pile in their closets to keep their noses clean. Their relationship is based on respect built around fear and power. Callum’s power. It seems like every relationship Callum has is very complex—a balancing act of nuance and intimidation. They need him, but they resent him for it.
Daniel looks like he’s biting his tongue. He catches the eye of another man not too far away, gesturing to him in greeting. “Pleasure as always, Russo.” The flat, sarcastic edge in his voice melts into warmth when his focus shifts to me. His hand reaches for mine, lifting it to his lips. “It was so lovely to meet you, Lexie. I hope our paths cross again soon.” His lips are a whisper over my knuckles before he lets go, but not before Callum steps out from behind me to stand at my side.
“You too, Daniel,” I say simply with a soft smile. With that he’s moving on, his energetic charm reviving as he greets another man enthusiastically. Even as the blonde man is walking away, Callum’s presence doesn’t ease up.
“You go to one party and you’re already getting cozy with one of the biggest tools in the state,” Callum states roughly. “One with heavy baggage he’s never able to carry for himself. Maybe I should cut him loose and see if he drowns.” There’s destruction in his voice, a desire to cause ruin.
“Are you jealous?” I ask, baiting him. Surprisingly, this time he bites.
“What if I am?” he counters gruffly, his mouth at my ear sends a shiver down my spine and liquid fire pooling between my legs. Looking up at him, I meet his eyes and take a sip of my champagne. He’s so sexy I have a hard time pulling my eyes away.
“I’d be shocked half to death. Jealousy is an emotion.” My tone is half teasing as I feign a concerned expression through the desire building inside me. “Careful, Callum, your humanity is showing.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet.”
“Haven’t I?” I counter, plastering on a fake smile so bright that it burns straight through his mask of calm. Callum’s jaw clenches, his expression darkening until he’s glaring at me. The thunder is back, his dark cloud dominating the space until it feels small.
“Stop.” His low demand is all bite and no bark, sending a shiver down my spine and drenching my panties.
“Stop what?” My brows raise in feigned innocence.
“You don’t want to play this game with me, Dewdrop. I don’t lose.” He steps closer until we’re practically chest to chest. I look up at him, meeting his gaze evenly.
“I would never play games with you, Callum.” I tilt my head slightly to one side. “You’re far too serious to waste your time on something ridiculous like having fun.”
“I’d like to pull you into the other room and have some fun. I can think of a few activities I’d enjoy doing with you and those gorgeous tits of yours.”
“Wow, do you really only ever think with your dick?” My voice comes out more breathy than confident, the sass draining out as desire hits me fast and hard. He’s so close, and my eyes can’t help but catch on his lips.
“Two heads are better than one.” Callum’s voice is deep, his eyes hungry.
“Mmm, so far I’m not impressed with either of them.” My gaze slowly slides from his lips back to his hazel eyes in invitation. “I guess you’ll just have to take me into the other room and prove it.”
The moment my words register, we’re moving. Callum’s strong grip on my waist doesn’t falter as he leads us out of the ballroom. We pause briefly in the doorway for Callum to find someone in the crowd. I follow his gaze in time to see his silent conversation with Roscoe, before I’m being pulled into the hallway.
Anticipation thrums inside me as we move through the house, his pace purposeful. He clearly knows where we’re going, leading me down a darkened hallway meant to be off limits for the party. Stopping at the end of the corridor, Callum opens a door and pulls me inside.
It’s a home office, most likely belonging to the Governor. I’m briefly able to see the built-in bookshelves that line the walls, completely filled with uniform books with decorative spines. The ornate furniture matches the rest of the historic house; wing chairs facing a brick fireplace, a carved coffee table, heavy drapes. A large desk sits opposite the door, framed by two tall, arched windows trimmed in crown molding.
As soon as I’m in the room, Callum’s closing the door and pressing me against it. His hand reaches over to flick on the lights as his lips descend on mine. There’s no preamble, the time for teasing is over. All that’s left is domination and desire, his thick frame taking over mine.
Large hands are on me, fisting in my hair and sinking into the ample flesh of my ass. A sigh escapes my lips, lighting a fire to Callum’s short fuse. The hand in my hair untangles to reach down and grab hold of my thighs, forcing my legs to wrap around him as I’m being lifted.
My sound of surprise as Callum pulls me off the door and carries me across the office is met by a grunt of approval, his mouth never leaving mine. He places me down on the edge of the desk, pulling back to remove his suit coat and toss it over the back of a chair.
Like a predator stalking its prey, his eyes never leave me as he unbuttons each cuff of his crisp white shirt and impatiently rolls the sleeves up to his elbows, revealing the intricate artwork decorating his strong forearms. Just the sight of him like this is almost enough to unravel me; beard, tattoos, and the consuming desire in his piercing gaze. His dangerous intensity is like a pheromone, leaving me intoxicated.
I watch with bated breath, the hunger growing inside me with each beat of my racing heart until it’s almost unbearable. The separation only lasts seconds, but it’s far too long and does nothing to dampen the potent chemistry charged between us. And then he’s kissing me again, touching me.
Strong hands are pulling my dress straps down my arms. His lips on mine are demanding, tasting and exploring in long, deep pulls. It’s all fire, hunger, and need. As soon as the dress is down far enough, my bra cups are being pulled down next.
Callum’s large hands touch every inch of my skin as soon as it’s exposed, groaning against my lips. Electricity spreads through me under his touch, and I gasp as his fingers explore. His lips leave mine when he leans back to look at me, ravenous eyes taking in my bare breasts—rosy, giant, and heavy. My skin flushes under his gaze, lust licking through my veins as my heart hammers with anticipation.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he murmurs deeply, his hands returning to my breasts like he can’t help himself. I sigh as his lips join his hands in worshiping my chest, arching into his touch. The scrape of his beard against my delicate flesh heightens every sensation. His breath is hot against my skin. “I’ve thought about getting my hands on these incredible tits so many fucking times. They’re even better than I dreamed they’d be.”
“You know me, I aim to please.” My head falls back and I catch my bottom lip between my teeth to bite back a moan. His lips are sinful.
“Don’t do that.” Callum nips at my skin, sending a bolt of pleasure through me until I gasp.
“Don’t do what?” I ask, breathless. His mouth moves over the sensitive skin of my left breast, tasting and appreciating every inch while his greedy hand kneads the other.
“Don’t hold back.” His voice vibrates against my skin, sending a shiver through every nerve ending in my body. “I want to hear everything—every moan, every gasp, every sound of pleasure. I want fucking all of it. It’s mine. I earned it.” His mouth latches onto my nipple and a long moan falls from my lips. My hands reach for his head to thread my fingers through his hair and pull him closer. A hum of gratification ripples through him, his mouth sending sparks over my skin.
I’m so hot, so wet.
“I need more,” I pant, overwhelmed by need. Callum doesn’t hesitate to grant my request. His lips don’t falter in their attentions on my breast, but his hand is trailing up my thigh under my dress. I lift my hips to allow my hem to be pushed up around my waist. He tugs my panties down my legs and over my heels, allowing my thick thighs to spread open wide enough to bare myself to him. The breath hitches in my chest when his skilled fingers press to my exposed pussy, his thumb strumming over my swollen clit in maddening circles.
“Oh, God,” I pant, pleasure spreading through every part of my body. His fingers plunge inside me, stealing my breath.
“You’re so wet for me, Dewdrop,” he growls against my breast, his head lifting to meet my eyes. His fingers pump into me, hitting my g-spot until stars dance across my vision, his circling thumb driving me into delirium. “So damn responsive. Fuck.” When he catches my nipple in his mouth and tugs it with his teeth, I shatter into a million pieces.
“Yes!” The word tumbles out of my mouth over and over as I ride the wave of pleasure carrying me away. “Oh, Callum.”
“That’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Callum groans, withdrawing his hands to lower to his knees. “You’re such a good girl for me, Dewdrop. Look at this pretty pussy. I bet you taste as good as you look.”
The first flick of his tongue makes my hips jerk, a soft cry escaping me. “Just what I thought,” he murmurs, voice rough with primal gratification. My body is teetering on a cliff, climbing higher and higher with each touch. My hands fist in his hair passionately, holding him against me.
“What do I taste like?”
“You taste…” his tongue flattens over my slit in a long, smooth stroke. Savoring, torturing. “Addicting.” Strong hands grip my thighs as they try to clamp around his head on their own accord, holding me in place to allow his mouth to devour without interruption. The roughness of his facial hair contrasts with the heat of his mouth, pushing me closer to the edge of bliss.
“Oh god, yes. Callum.” I chant his name, tugging on his hair. He growls against me hungrily, the vibrations making my nerve endings fire all at once. His tongue enters me over and over, the heat searing me from the inside out.
“When we leave here, I’m going to shake the Governor’s hand with you on my fingers, and my tongue.” His thumb joins to rub my clit in slow, steady circles while he fucks me with his tongue, the stimulation is too much. It’s all I can do not to scream as I fall over the edge, tumbling and freefalling into a sea of euphoria.
My thighs shake beneath his hands as I come. The orgasm lasts minutes instead of seconds, Callum lapping up every last drop like I’m his favorite delicacy. “My pretty pink nurse, such a dirty girl.” He stands, using my hands in his hair to pull me closer. There’s a look of primal satisfaction in his eyes, his beard glistening with the evidence of my pleasure.
Our lips meet sensually, panting for breath, and I can taste myself on his lips. It’s surprisingly erotic and wildly arousing—something I’m sure Callum would agree with by the impressive erection pressing against my thigh through his pants. It would be so easy for him to step between my thighs, unzip his pants, and take me right here on the edge of the desk. And it seems like he plans to do exactly that, his lips urgent against mine.
Until his phone goes off.
Turning to pull it out of his discarded suit coat pocket, he curses when he reads it. “It’s Roscoe,” he says, less than pleased. “Apparently the Governor’s looking for me.”
“We should get back to the party.” I’m still struggling to catch my breath, but my hands are already moving to pull my bra back into place. “They’ll see more than they bargained for if they send out a search party, and I’m not in the mood to give them a show.”
When I move to fix the top of my dress, Callum beats me to it. His fingers trail up the skin of my arms with the straps, dragging them back where they belong on my shoulders.
Taking a step back, he holds out a hand to help me down from my perch. Hopping down onto unsteady legs, I can’t help but lean against him for support as I regain my composure. Callum catches me readily, his expression one of frustrated satisfaction.
“I’m going to speak to the Governor and say our goodbyes,” he says, watching intently as I step back into my panties, navigating my heels, then shimmy them back up my legs and under my dress. Tugging the skirt back down, I smooth my hands over my dress to make sure I’m back to looking presentable. “Then I’m taking you home, Dewdrop.”
Whatever Callum has planned for us is promptly shut down when we re-enter the ballroom. Roscoe stands waiting, leaning in to whisper something into his boss’ ear the moment he’s close enough. And whatever he says isn’t good news, judging by the set of Callum’s jaw. His eyes cut to me in consideration, hand running over his beard as he makes a decision about something.
After a long moment, he finally gives Roscoe a short nod, his expression deeply irritated when he leans in to murmur something to him. The enforcer’s focus lands on me briefly, making me wonder if I’m their topic of discussion or simply a component of it. I’m half tempted to open my mouth and ask what they’re whispering about, but I don’t get the chance.
“There you are, Callum.” Governor McCann approaches with his arms wide. There’s an unsteadiness to him, which probably has something to do with the empty bourbon glass in his hand. “I was beginning to think you snuck out on me.” Callum’s easy smile is instant as he seamlessly slips into character.
“You know I’d never do that to you, Harrison,” Callum insists, “But I do need to be going, I have some business that apparently can’t wait until morning.”
“Ah, well business comes first.” If I wasn’t watching so closely, I would’ve easily missed the conspiratorial wink the Governor shoots at the man beside me. Callum chuckles with a nod, the rich sound vibrating through me. “Keep in touch. And I expect to see you at the club next month for a rematch.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” With Callum’s confirmation, Harrison McCann’s glassy gaze moves to me.
“It was an absolute pleasure to meet you, Lexie. I hope to see you at another function very soon.” Even buzzed, his charisma is smooth and eloquent. Spoken like a true politician. My smile in return is friendly.
“It was great meeting you, Governor.” Is my gracious reply.
“Duty calls, I won’t keep you.” Governor McCann extends his arm towards Callum. My eyes meet Callum’s when he reaches out to clasp hands in a firm shake. The same hand that was just inside me less than five minutes ago. His words from the office echo through my head, turning my insides into molten lava.
When we leave here, I’m going to shake the Governor’s hand with you on my fingers, and my tongue.
With one last round of goodbyes, Callum leads me outside to the town car waiting in the circular drive. The heat coursing through me has my heart pounding in my chest until I’m practically breathless. The feeling of the firm hand on the small of my back burns straight to the throbbing between my thighs. When the car door is opened for me and I slide in alone, the only thing keeping my protest from being spoken like a horny, needy, sex addict is my pride.
Callum remains just a few inches away, hand clamped firmly on the top of the door as he stands staring down at me. The man is as rigid as a statue, he may as well be carved from marble.
He nods to the driver at the wheel, “Corbin will take you back to the penthouse. I have to put out a few fires for business.” The regret in his voice is almost tangible, easing a sliver of my irritation.
He needs to put out the fire he started between my legs.
Biting the smart remark on the tip of my tongue, I simply nod in response. Pressing my thighs together in an attempt to ease some of the pressure there, it does nothing to dampen my needs. It takes another long moment of passionate staring before Callum finally steps back and closes the door firmly.
The drive back to the penthouse is spent in silence. I can feel the driver’s eyes on me in the rearview mirror periodically, but I ignore his curiosity. By the time I’m back in the elevator, the desire pumping through my veins is too much to ignore.
I’m home alone, but I switch the lock on my bedroom door anyway. The last thing I need is to be interrupted. Reaching for the top drawer of my night stand, a comforting hum fills the air. My eyes close as I lay back on the pile of pillows, a sigh escaping me as some of the pent up tension is replaced with vibrations and sensation. As I’m carried away, images play behind my eyelids—hazel eyes devouring me, impeccable beard building delicious friction, and strong fingers coaxing and demanding pleasure.
