Page 59 of Endgame

“Time. Well done our dirty dick sucker. The dildo is yours to keep; do with it as you wish.” The game announcer reports my win, and I exit the stage with stride. I don’t bother looking back to find Callaway. I’m sure he will make himself known to me one way or another. Not that I didn’t see him distinctly, but still, I know I’m due for a confrontation.

Let him. He doesn’t own me, although I’d love for him to strap me up and make a mess of me, but one step at a time.

We haven’t even kissed yet unless you count me kissing his cheekearlier in the night. I also have this sinking feeling I did something inappropriate last night. I can’t remember anything to save my life. If anything, I’m sure Callaway remembers. Whatever it was I may have done, I’d like him to forget about it or request a redo.

I headto the restroom to check my face for evidence of my dirty deed—feeling my own saliva on my cheeks. The crowd seems to be thinning out to what looks like our group and some locals. There’s a core of regulars at Joe’s; their presence makes this place feel even more special.

I set off down the hall to the left of the DJ booth in search of the women’s restroom. Why are there so many doors in such a small place?

Bingo.I find it.

I only make it halfway through the door before I’m firmly lifted off the ground and shuttled over a robust set of shoulders, only to be placed on the sink counter with a thud.

What the hell? My defenses are in overdrive from this apparent bathroom intruder.

I’m frantic, trying to remember a sliver of the techniques I learned in the one self-defense class years ago my Dad signed us up for. I’m drawing a blank, likely because I didn’t actually get to train after accidentally decking the instructor in the face and getting kicked out.

But now is not the time to remember that I know absolutely nothing.

My fear is immediately replaced with relief as I look to see Callaway shut the bathroom door and turn the lock. His heat immediately fills the small space. His gaze never faltersas he stalks towards me, his body caging me like a starved giant hunting its next meal.

Tonight, that meal looks like me.

Finally.

I can’t look him in the eyes. I know he watched me up there and enjoyed himself. It’s not that I’m embarrassed, I have a perpetual fear of disappointing people I care about. The idea of letting him down sounds dreadful. I can practically feel the rage seeping from his body, invading my senses.

“Callaway, what are you doing in here? You need to go before Navy finds us!” I’m whisper yelling, hoping he catches onto my panic.

This caveman decides to ignore me, evidently not giving a rat's ass who sees us in here together.

His eyes resemble black orbs.

You can’t see past the darkness in them.

“Were you trying to tempt me out there, Dakota? Hoping that little skit would set me off and leave me unable to resist you?”

Perceptive you are my guy.

I was only trying to tease you.

“No. I looked for you, and you weren’t there. I didn’t think it mattered.”

I’m not naive. I knew he would eventually see me. The windows in Joe’s are open and large enough to jump through, putting the stage at the center of the viewpoint no matter where you stand. To see him so on edge and off balance makes me happier than I care to admit.

“I won’t lie and say seeing you up there didn’t surprise me, but fuck, you sure know how to put on a show, baby. It took everything in me not to charge up there and take you home.”

Take me right here, you big stubborn man.

“Still waiting on you to do that, big guy.” I snap back as I bite my bottom lip to catch his attention even more. His wanting eyes follow the motion.

I’m a fickle fickle woman. When he corners me like this, I can’t even remember my own name, much less why I decided we can’t have some fun together.

That’s right, work and his sister—my best friend.

Two very important variables.

His eyes grow clouded as a growl escapes his lips. I’m already moaning at the anticipation of his touch. Please, touch me.

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