Page 16 of Five Days

Still pissed, I thought of hopping on a jet to head home where this kind of drama didn’t exist. But I was also still horny as fuck for my client. Same as Landon on that dance floor, the proximity of Callum all up in my space made my body crave intimacy. Interaction. A give and take that would leave us both spent and exhausted enough to find oblivion from the thoughts crowding my brain.

From how Callum stared at me, he felt the same regardless of what Landon was to him. It looked like a cat had gotten his salivating tongue, but he was as unsure as I was about what to do.

Going with lust rather than anger, I reached to wipe away make-believe drool from the corner of Callum’s lush mouth.

He gulped, and I smirked before crossing my arms and leaning against the door at my back. I would rather have dragged him into my arms and tasted his mouth like I’d planned to do a couple of hours earlier before Landon had interrupted us. But words needed to be exchanged before I gave him what we both desired.

“What are you doing here?” I asked since it was apparent Callum couldn’t find his voice to explain his arrival at my door an hour after midnight.

“C-Couldn’t sleep.”

“Hmm.” I glanced down over his form, noting the clothes he’d worn earlier and the hardened dick he sported. “I could help you with that—if you want.”

“That’s…not why I came.”

I could make him come, would gladly do so, but he shifted, pushing a hand through his thick hair and showing his unrest.

This wasn’t about me but him. My client. I hated that I had to remind myself of that fact. I’d been ready to lower my usual defenses and enjoy my vacation with Callum, but then he had to go and pull a fast one on me.

Couldn’t trust a single soul, and I should have known better.

“Where’s Landon?” I asked, needing to get this little chat with Callum out of the way so I could go back to my bed and try to shut down my brain. The alcohol hadn’t helped do more than put me just over the edge of buzzed.

“He’s sleeping.”

“So are you canceling and sending me back to Boston or what?” I pushed when Callum still couldn’t tell me why the fuck he’d shown up at my door. I could have done both options myself, but something inside me hesitated, made going home without answers as to what was going on inside me impossible.

Pressing his lips together, Callum glanced deeper into my suite. “I don’t want to sound mean, but you look like you could use the vacation,” he reasoned, not giving me his eyes.

“What I could use is a good hard fuck,” I muttered the truth of what would shut my brain down. I checked Callum out again, noting the turn of his head toward me in my periphery. He would be even more gorgeous writhing on a bed, begging for my dick. His expressive eyes hazed over with need rather than the unease he hadn’t been rid of since I’d first seen him.

Add in the underlying anger over what Callum had done, the fact Landon scraped at the back of my mind like a jagged fingernail on itchy skin, and I was totally down for fucking to relieve the stirred aggravation inside me.

Yeah, that was what I needed.

“You paid for tonight...” Lust bled through my every word.

Callum exhaled loudly, his hands fisting at his sides in a determined stance to not touch me.

So much for a good time. I pressed my lips together and waited for the buttoned-up man to state what he needed to get off his chest.

“He climbed on you that night because you’d turned eighteen—a legal adult who had every right to leave your foster home, which he feared,” Callum murmured, his blue-green eyes intent on mine. “You were his anchor, the one person he could trust to have his back.”

I didn’t give a shit about his excuses. “And he didn’t have mine when I needed him most,” I snipped, hating that my chest still ached from his betrayal.

“Because he was hurt!”

My arms uncrossed, and I straightened, taking a step to put myself in Callum’s face. “He was fucking fifteen,” I growled as the low-burning anger in my gut flared fully like it had when we’d sat at the table. “If I’d given him what he begged for, I could have gotten put away for twenty-plus years for sexual assault!”

Callum stumbled away from me as though I’d punched him in the chest with my words. The blood drained from his face as he blindly reached for the small couch’s arm.

“What?” I asked, following him, my buzzed brain thinking for a half second he was having a heart attack. It was enough to calm my anger to alarm.

He sagged onto the couch rubbing his face, clearly not about to fall over dead, but still.

“What?” I repeated, my brow furrowed, adrenaline still pumping.

“You dragged some stuff to the surface is all,” Callum whispered and swallowed hard. “Just…it’s nothing. Never mind.”

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