“Callie, are you all right?”
She swallowed down her nervousness. “Yes. Of course. I . . .” Have no idea what to say.
“Have you eaten the pizza? I know you, and I’m betting you haven’t taken the time tonight to fill your belly.”
Even when she’d handled everything wrong and hurt his feelings, Sean still put her needs first. Tears pricked at her eyes. What was she ever going to do without him?
“Not much, but I will. It smells heavenly. I’ve just been . . . worried about you. I saw Axel’s black eye and—”
Sean laughed, his grainy image grinning on the screen. “He looks far worse than me, lovely. Of that, I assure you.”
His assertion surprised her. No one ever got the best of Thorpe’s security director. He’d been bouncing heads for years. How had one man who wasn’t as big as Mount Axel managed to damage him and come out without a scratch? Luck, maybe.
“I’m so relieved to hear it. I’ve seen Axel really mess guys up before.” She drew in a deep breath, her mind racing. “I don’t understand why Thorpe threw you out. If anyone is at fault, it’s me. You said something beautiful, and I panicked.”
“You must know exactly how jealous Thorpe is.”
Sean had the situation so wrong. “No, he’s just concerned.”
“Because he wants you. But I don’t care about Thorpe now. He can’t keep us apart for long. I’ll find a way to you, lovely. I always will.” He paused, looking at her intently. “I wish I could touch you now and show you how much I meant those words I said earlier.”
Callie’s heart stuttered. Sean actually loved her. He hadn’t simply blurted it in the heat of passion. After nearly seven months, most of them as his submissive, it still stunned her. But hadn’t she worried that she was falling in love with him herself just a few hours ago?
“I’m really sorry I ran,” she murmured. “You startled me.”
“Don’t you care for me even a bit?” He frowned, that furrow between his blue eyes deep and troubled.
Even if she couldn’t stay and fulfill the promise of the burgeoning love between them, she wouldn’t be dishonest with Sean. She couldn’t stand the thought of hurting him more than she was already going to. “I care about you very much. So much that it scares me sometimes.”
“Ah, lovely. I won’t hurt you. You can let go and fall into my arms. I’ll catch you.”
How wonderful that sounded. Callie pressed a hand over her trembling lips. She wished she could stay and do exactly what he wanted. But that was a stupid fantasy. The reality was that she’d already way overstayed her time at Dominion.
Her heart railed, and she wanted to scream at the uselessness of her feelings. What would Sean do if she stayed and the law caught up to her? Or, heaven forbid, if he ever figured out who she was?
So she had to remain strong and do what was best for both Sean and Thorpe. If they knew the danger that lurked around her every corner, they’d want to help. They might even insist on protecting her. Callie refused to let them risk themselves. It was her problem, her cross to bear. Her shit to deal with.
“I’m trying,” she told him.
But after today, it had to stop. By tomorrow, she had to slip out of his life, away from Dominion, Thorpe, and Dallas—everything meaningful to her. Maybe she’d go to Seattle, instead. The frequent rain would match her mood.
“I know you are.” He sent her a reassuring smile. “Tell me, what did the bastard do when he had you alone in your room.”
Callie froze, sure that her face looked awfully deer-in-the-headlights. If she told him the truth, there’d be trouble. “N-nothing much.”
“Don’t you lie to me, lovely. I’ll paddle you but good. I heard your cries of passion wailing down the halls.”
Damn it! She wished the video feature wasn’t on. He could probably see the guilt crawling all over her face. How was she going to get out of this without riling Sean to the point of wanting to kill Thorpe?
“What did he tell you?”
Sean’s blue eyes narrowed. “I expect an answer from you. The truth, mind you. I might be able to forgive you being confused. But if he forced you into anything, I’ll take his bloody head off.”
Blurting that excuse, then running away would only leave the two men behind without her as a buffer. Not a good idea when tempers were running high. “He kissed me. He . . . touched me.”
“And you liked it.” He ground his teeth, jaw tight. “Pull off your robe. Now.”
She started to refuse, but she’d rather take Sean’s anger herself than have him unleash it on Thorpe.
She stood and let the silk skim down her arms until it puddled on the floor.
“Stand closer to the camera so I can look at you. And bend so I can see your breasts.”
Callie stepped forward and did as he commanded, letting him look his fill.
“Where’s your collar?”
Now wasn’t the time to explain that even if she’d been wearing it, the bit of bling wouldn’t be a symbol of their relationship much longer. She’d explain tomorrow. And once she’d assumed a new identity, Sean would be nothing but a sweet memory. He would forget her, surely.
“I was getting ready to take a shower,” she lied gently.
His mouth thinned into an even firmer line. “All right, then. Show me your belly and your cunt. Slowly.”
Her entire body flushing, she adjusted the laptop lid until the webcam took in the lower half of her body as she stood frozen still for him.
“Beautiful, as always. Sit back and spread your legs.” As soon as she reclined on the bed and parted her thighs, he moaned in appreciation. “Is that where Thorpe touched you?”
“Yes.” Her voice shook.
“Show me how.”
“You want me to touch myself?” The thought of displaying her self-pleasure was both uncomfortable and arousing.
“I do. I want to see you come and I want you to be thinking about me this time.”
Between his possessive words and his narrow-eyed demand, she shivered. “A-all right.”
“Good. I’ve spent months touching myself and thinking of you, lovely. I want to see you do the same for me. I want to be the only one on your mind as you feel pleasure.”
Those words shouldn’t excite her so much, but an image of Sean, eyes closed, body tense with need, his big hand roughing up and down his cock, made her ache.
Suddenly, touching herself wasn’t a hardship. Tonight, she’d felt more pleasure than she had in the last five years put together. No way she should be ready to orgasm again. But after Sean’s gruff voice grinding out such a wicked suggestion, need bubbled right under her clit.
“Now, Callie,” he snapped.
She eased back on her elbows and bent her knees, craning her neck to make sure that Sean still had a view of her pussy in the camera.
“I see you, lovely. Go on.”
His hard voice had deepened, his Scottish accent thickening. She swallowed against lust, then slid her fingers down her belly, right between her legs.
Sean’s demand didn’t exactly have the effect he desired. The second her fingers caressed her hard, burning clit, Thorpe slipped into her thoughts. The memory of his mouth on her, eating her voraciously, then sliding up her body to demand that she come for him wouldn’t be banished. But in her head, Sean watched, making the demand as Thorpe slid his fingers and tongue all over her. Her skin sizzled. Her desire flared. In a perfect world, she could admit to wanting them both—and wishing desperately that they desired her.
The fantasy was totally unrealistic, but she couldn’t stop it from barreling past her good sense to make her spin out of control.
With her free hand, she tweaked her nipples, imagining that Sean’s fingers plucked the sensitive buds, his hot breath falling in her ear as he told her that she looked seductive while Thorpe ate her into a frenzy and swallowed her down. Then they would both fuck her, Sean filling her sensitive pussy and Thorpe driving into her ass, until . . .
Callie cried out as the peak crashed into her. She jolted, her back arching, her fingers rubbing frantic circles on the pulsing bud between her legs.
“Lovely . . .” Sean’s voice sounded gruff before he groaned long and loud in pleasure.
The sound brought her back to herself. Callie blinked and sat up, then reached for her robe, drawing it over her breasts as she panted. She felt like a terrible human being. Sean loved her. She loved him—but she couldn’t manage to banish Thorpe from her heart.
“I didn’t say that you could move, much less cover yourself. I’m not done with you yet.” He looked more relaxed, but she wouldn’t call him happy.
Still struggling to catch her breath, she bared herself again. Sean had seen it all. What was there to peep at now?
“Get back in position and don’t move until I tell you,” he commanded gruffly.
Closing her eyes, Callie gave herself over to Sean. It would be the last time she’d ever experience submission, most likely. Even if she sometimes fought it, she craved it. She intended to savor these precious moments.
Rocking back on her elbows, she spread her legs again for him.
“Scoot closer.”
The entire camera had to be one big close-up of her cooch. But she didn’t argue, just complied. Then she waited.
“Like that, yes.”
Sean remained silent for a long minute, and she could all but feel his eyes on her. In her fantasy, he climbed his way up her body with nips and kisses, then impaled her with that thick cock of his, making her breath rush and her back arch. She pictured Thorpe hovering over her, too, watching, tipping her head over the edge of the bed to feed his erection between her lips and deep in her mouth, muttering in the filthiest, most intimate whisper how much he was looking forward to impaling her backside.
“I don’t see any bruises on you.” Sean’s voice pulled her from her sensual daydream.
Callie eased up a fraction and looked at Sean from between her legs. “There are none, Sir. Thorpe didn’t force me.”
A fact that made her feel even more guilty, but she didn’t try to hide from the truth.
“Sit up and look at me.” He stayed silent until she did as he’d bid. “Leave the robe off. I like you naked.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He sent her a reassuring nod, telling her that she’d pleased him. “Callie, he may not have forced you, but you were upset, and he took advantage of you.”
“Not really.” She bit her lip. “Sean, I have to be honest. I have feelings for him, too. I don’t think it’s one-sided.”
Damn, why couldn’t she just keep her mouth shut? Or break up with him and be done?
Sean’s face closed up. “He had four years to give you what you needed. And he did nothing. He’s not the man for you. I am. Don’t let your gratitude lead your heart in the wrong direction.”
It wasn’t like that at all. Yes, she was grateful to Thorpe for many things, but she would have fallen for him regardless. Some invisible string tethered her to him, tugging her in his direction . . . even as another string seemed to bind and yank her toward Sean, too.
It was best that she was leaving. She could never choose between them. And if she tried, she would inevitably lose the other for good.
“I understand what you’re saying,” she answered obliquely. After tomorrow, it wouldn’t matter.
“Good. I’m going to do my best to reason with Thorpe so I can see you. We have a lot to talk about, lovely.”
He was dead wrong. It was all but over, even if that fact was breaking her heart in a million pieces. If she told him that now, it would only start an argument that neither of them would win. Next time she saw him would simply be good-bye.
“I’ll see what I can do on my end, too.”
“Excellent,” he praised. “Now charge your phone.”
“I already am.” She smiled. Sometimes he knew her too well.
Sean sent her an approving nod, his blue eyes caressing her face through the screen. “Eat your pizza and get some sleep. I plan to come for you tomorrow.”
And by then, she’d be ready to release him and go. “I will.”
THORPE was slumped over his desk at quarter ’til three when his phone rang. The club members were gone. Axel had swept the place clean. No sign of Kirkpatrick, but Thorpe knew better than to assume he’d seen the last of the asshole. Callie had helped with cleaning and closing, then taken herself off to bed. She was too quiet and hadn’t met his gaze when he’d given her back the contents of her suitcases, sans bags.
He planned to keep a very close watch on her. Lack of luggage alone wouldn’t be enough to keep her here if she was determined to go.
At the first shrill chime, Thorpe started, then all but pounced on the phone. He looked at the display, smiling at the familiar number.
“Tara?”