Page 105 of Any Means Necessary

Lexie’s hands thread through my hair, pulling my lips back to hers. “There really is no getting rid of you. Is there?” The teasing edge in her tone gives me hope.

“Never.” My voice resonates deeply. “You can’t run away from this.” My lips capture hers possessively to make my point. She responds eagerly, giving me everything in return.

“Good,” she breathes, flooding me with pure happiness. “I never liked running anyways.” Only Lexie can make me laugh like this; naked, vulnerable, and stupidly happy.

I’m so fucking in love.

“Running is overrated.” My lips recapture hers, my throbbing cock lining up with her soaking pussy. She’s so swollen and needy for me. “Fuck, I missed you.”

Sinking into her with a shared moan, I move inside her incredible pussy like I’m on a mission. We fucking belong together, something I intend to prove to her every day for the rest of my life. But right now all I plan to focus on is worshiping her body with mine.

Chapter Forty: Lexie

I can breathe again. Laying with Callum in my bed, in my apartment in Oregon, knowing that my sister is okay—I can breathe again. There are still so many things that need to be worked out, so much that still needs to be said. But right now I can just breathe.

Callum shifts in the bed beside me, his giant frame dwarfing my queen sized mattress. What used to be plenty of space just for me feels cramped now that it’s the two of us. I’m suddenly missing the California king waiting for us back in New York.

Turning onto his side, Callum places his elbow on the bed and props his head on his hand to look down at me.

Last night was amazing. So was this morning. But every moment that passes just brings us closer to some harsh realities—realities I’m not looking forward to talking about. Like going back to NYC, and the death of that poor woman and her baby. Unfortunately our night, and morning, of mind blowing sex didn’t erase all of that.

Per usual, those all-seeing eyes are reading me intently. He can see the wheels turning in my head, can sense my mood shifting. “Tell me.”

“Some people deserve what’s coming to them, I understand that. But I’ll never be ok with innocent people getting hurt,” I start. Callum’s expression remains pensive.

“I know.” His response is an acknowledgement, but not a promise. That’s not good enough for me. Holding the sheet to my breasts, I sit up and turn to meet his gaze straight on.

“Significant others and children are off limits, Callum. I mean it.” Callum’s free hand runs down his beard, taking a moment to look at me in consideration.

“There are no guarantees in my business, Dewdrop. But I can promise that I’ll make sparing innocent lives more of a priority.” It’s not exactly what I was hoping for, but I’m realistic enough to know it's the best he can do. Callum doesn’t lie to me—he might keep information from me, but his words are always honest. As a man of his word, he means what he says. I know I can trust him to follow through, whether he actually wants to or not.

“Do you really care, or are you just doing this for me?” I ask softly. Strong fingers reach up to gently tuck a tendril of my hair behind my ear.

“You are what I care about, Lexie. I’ll do anything for you.” Tugging on my sheet, I let him pull me in to meet his lips sensually. My hand lifts to caress his cheek and play with his beard.

“Anything?” My tone turns teasing. “Even watch reality tv?”

“If that’s what you really want.”

“What about drinking Mountain Dew?”

“Don’t push it,” he growls against my lips, making me laugh. I squeal out a laugh of surprise when he rolls us over until I’m beneath him against the pillows.

Such a control freak, I love him.

“Okay, okay, fine,” I concede. “Margaritas then.” Callum lifts his head to look down at me, strong fingers tenderly brushing the hair from my face.

“Two margaritas and one episode of Real Housewives,” he negotiates. The smile I give him is nothing short of beaming. “But if Vicky causes a scene at the movie premier after her meltdown at Lisa’s birthday dinner, we’re turning it off.”

“Deal.” He can pretend to hate reality tv all he wants, but I know he’s into it. Every time he says one episode, it easily turns into three without any protest.

***

The shower turns off in the next room, followed by the sound of the glass shower door. I drop the sweater I’ve folded into my suitcase to bring back to New York and walk the few steps to the en-suite bathroom doorway in time to see Callum securing the towel on his waist. Droplets of water cling to him from his shower, running down the ink covering his powerful body.

He’s so damn hot.

“Okay, look,” I say, leaning against my bathroom door frame and letting out a deep breath dramatically to gear up for my little speech. “I know we have to go back to New York. And I’m guessing with your business it will have to be sooner, rather than later. I signed the contract, so I’ll go with you. But I really need a few more days with my sister.”

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