Page 66 of Any Means Necessary

“Deal,” he replies without contest. “But not tonight.” With that, he’s standing from the couch and taking me with him. My arms clasp around his neck, clinging to him, legs wrapping around his hips. He cups my ass, supporting my weight without faltering.

“What are you doing?” I breathe in surprise.

“Taking you to bed.”

“Cal.”

“You need a good night’s sleep.” His deep voice vibrates in his chest against me. “I’ll keep you safe from the nightmares.” He carries me into his bedroom, leaning down to pull back the covers before gently laying me in the center of the california king.

He steps away, his hands moving to unbutton his shirt and walking into the closet. I take the opportunity to get more comfortable and unclasp my bra under my top, pulling my arms out of the sleeves to tug the straps down my shoulders and out the bottom of my shirt. Leaning over to the side of the bed, I drop my bra on the floor.

Callum emerges from his closet wearing a pair of pajama pants hung low on his hips and nothing else. Callum is a very impressive man. He’s not a body builder with muscles just for show. His strong frame is thick and solid, built for power—a Viking ready for war.

Flipping the switch next to the bed, the room is doused in darkness save the soft glow coming from his closet. The mattress dips under Callum’s weight, and I’m being pulled back to the center of the bed by a strong arm wrapped around my waist. I let out a breathless laugh looking up at Callum kneeling over me. Being back in this bed, sinking into the lavish sheets surrounded by the scent of Callum’s musk, I can already feel the peace settling over me.

Without a word Callum takes his place laying on top of me, strong arms circling my waist with his head tucked between my breasts. The considerable weight of him sandwiches me between his body and the mattress. I feel so small with him, a foreign feeling in my fat body. There’s something about being dwarfed against a viking of a man that makes me feel so delicate and petite.

When did Callum become my safe place? The thought terrifies me.

“This doesn’t change anything,” I yawn, feeling the need to clarify. “Between us, I mean.” I’m lying to myself, we both know it. Because despite my declaration, it sure does feel like something is shifting between us.

Callum settles against me, letting out a heavy breath of gratification from his place between my breasts. “Go to sleep, Dewdrop. You can go back to wishing you never met me in the morning.”

Chapter Twenty-Four: Callum

Opening the car door for Lexie, she’s staring in awe as she accepts my hand to help her out. She barely notices when her feet touch down onto the tarmac where the driver parked, her eyes pulling away from the private plane to search for mine.

“This is yours?” She points to the jet. “You own a private jet.”

“Of course,” I respond easily, nodding thanks to the driver as he moves to unload our bags for my waiting staff.

“Of course?” she repeats like I’m crazy. “People don’t just have private jets.”

“I do.” My hand finds its way to the small of her back. “Are you planning to just stand here and stare at it? We have a schedule to stick to.” The teasing in my voice is softened by the smile I can’t help at the look of amazement lighting up her face. Her excitement feeds my soul.

“I guess we can board. I’ll allow it,” she concedes, making me chuckle.

“That’s very generous of you,” I comment, propelling her toward the aircraft.

Walking up the steps and ducking through the door, my pilots Paul and Michael greet us from the cockpit. Lexie walks slowly in front of me, marveling at the cream couch and club seats that lead toward the small four person conference table towards the back of the main cabin. A sleek black galley kitchen leads to the full bathroom connected to the bedroom complete with a king sized bed.

Finding a plane with everything I need when I travel for work was difficult, especially one that had fixtures big enough for me to fit comfortably. So when I wasn’t able to find one, just like my SUV, I had it made to my exact specifications. Money well spent.

Lexie sits in one of the forward club seats, and I take my place across from her. My flight attendant, Melissa, appears to take our drink order and offer us the breakfast I had prepared of steak, potato, and egg bowls paired with chocolate croissants.

I sit back and watch Lexie chat with Melissa like they’re old friends, even after takeoff. Eventually the flight attendant disappears into the back again, bringing Lexie’s attention back to me. “You employ some really nice people.”

“Is that a surprise?” I ask, raising my brows in question. I push her bottle of water closer to her when she reaches for her mimosa. The woman seems to have something against staying properly hydrated, drinking everything except for what’s actually good for her.

“Yeah, sometimes,” she responds unfazed. “You’re not exactly friendly.”

“What am I then?” I lift my cup to take a sip of my coffee. Lexie gazes at me for a moment in thoughtful consideration. She looks torn at whether or not she’s going to answer the question at all.

“You are,” she starts slowly, searching for the right words. “Omniscient.”

Her description seems fitting, I am all-seeing. Especially when it comes to her.

“Not to mention ridiculously good looking and a little terrifying,” she adds lightly, ignoring the water and taking another sip from the champagne flute. My grip flexes against my cup when she bats those blue eyes at me in a way that makes my pants tighten.

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