Page 78 of Any Means Necessary

“You do know that we already live together, right? And we’ve had sex. More than once.”

“Is that your final answer?”

“No,” That’s not the word he wants to hear, so I quickly clarify. “My final answer is yes.”

“Good.” Leaning closer to grip my chin, he draws me in to capture my lips with his. “Be ready tomorrow night at six.”

“Do I get to know where we’re going?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“You don’t do fun,” I point out.

“No, but you do.” There’s no hiding his self-satisfied smile now. He’s enjoying this.

“At least tell me what to wear.” I’m basically begging at this point, but I have no choice. The man is giving me nothing to work with.

“Wear something impractical.” With that, he’s pulling out into traffic and zooming through the city back towards Columbus Circle.

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Lexie

I have a date with Callum tonight—our first date. How is it that we’ve had sex and live together before even going on an actual date?

Following Callum’s instructions, I pick out one of the dresses we bought on our trip to Chicago. It’s tight, low cut, and completely impractical. The moss green, velvet corset top fits my chest like a dream—a miracle in itself. The velvet skirt falls right above my knee, the ruching on the front gathering the hem up higher on my left thigh and pulling the fabric to hug my curves.

The shoes I pick are strappy and black, with an open toe and beautiful monarch butterfly appliques across the toes and scattered up the straps that wrap around my calves. They feel whimsical, even though they’re not the most wearable with the four and a half inch stiletto heel. But they’re so pretty, and I feel like I’m wearing little works of art.

Armed with a gorgeous outfit like this would usually make me feel unstoppable. But of course today would be a bad body day. The dress feels too clingy and unflattering, and I can’t stop picturing a hippo on stilts while wearing these heels. I feel too fat to wear this, and overall unattractive.

But I get ready anyway.

Callum knows what I look like, I remind myself, from every angle imaginable. And he very clearly likes what he sees, brazenly and obsessively. And when I step into the living room where Callum is waiting, he proves it again.

He turns at the sound of my heels clicking on the floor, and whatever he was looking at on his phone is completely forgotten.

“Fuck, Dewdrop.” There’s a rasp in his voice, his eyes touching every part of me. “You’re absolutely stunning.” A blush warms my cheeks and I offer him a sweet smile.

“Thank you.” My eyes take him in, a vision in his all black attire. He’s not wearing a suit coat tonight, he’s in his true form. Dress shirt, no tie, strong tattooed forearms on display with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He’s not wearing his camouflage that’s usually paired with his fake smile, and I like it. “And you look,” My eyes move over him in open appreciation. “Damn.”

Something colorful catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. A large white vase sits on the kitchen island holding the most beautiful bouquet of flowers I’ve ever seen. Pink peonies, soft blue hydrangeas, yellow ranunculus, and white poppies. “Where did these come from?”

“They’re for you.”

“No way.” I’m getting excited. “You got me flowers?” I look back at the arrangement in disbelief. “These are all of my favorites.”

“I know.” I can’t help but squeal in excitement, bouncing over to hug him.

“I love them so much. Thank you,” I announce enthusiastically. Pressing my lips to his in a soft peck, careful not to smear my lip gloss. “Wow, you’re really pulling out all the stops tonight, huh?”

“Just you wait.” Callum gazes down at me, his eyes as passionate as ever. “If we don’t leave now, we won’t be making it out of this apartment tonight. Not with how you look in this dress.”

“Lead the way.” My eyes flirt with him, even when my tone shift to taunting. “I wouldn’t want you ruining all of the special plans you made for tonight because you’re too distracted staring at my ass while I walk.”

“Don’t tempt me.” Callum’s large hand skims up my side before sliding into place at the small of my back. “Our night is just getting started.”

We use the elevator to ride down into the parking garage, where Callum helps me into the passenger seat of his vintage muscle car. He says it’s a 1972 gran torino. All I know is that it’s loud, powerful, and sexy as hell. Maybe a little obnoxious too, but who am I to judge someone for being a little extra?

Riding through the city, I accept the fact that I have no idea where we’re going and settle it for the ride. We’re seventeen minutes into the drive when I notice it. Something is different, but I can’t quite put my finger on what. But then I cross my legs, and it hits me. My thighs aren’t sticking like they usually do. Looking down at the seat, I’m surprised to see it’s made up of smooth black suede instead of leather. Am I going crazy, or is this different now?

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