Page 25 of The Consequence of You
My plan to make her feel like I did last week has seriously backfired. She doesn’t seem in the slightest bit uncomfortable. And the worst thing? My dick seems to have missed that I blackmailed her to get her in this room, and instead, it’s doing its level best to get some of her attention on it rather than these men.
My mother and father keep glancing over, matching frowns marring their foreheads. I’m yet to introduce them to Callie, and I can see the cogs turning, wondering why I brought this girl with me. My older brother, Sebastian, heads over to us. He slowly runs his eyes over her as he approaches us.
The cunt.
He needs to keep his fucking eyes to himself. He takes her hand and kisses the back of it, before he catches my eye and winks. He’s always coveted my toys. Even when he got bigger, and he’d outgrown whatever I was playing with, he’d try to take it off me.
Prick.
I watch as he takes his time to let go of her hand.
Callie blushes a deep shade of red at something he says, and she giggles. She’s fuckinggiggling. I take a deep breath to stop myself yanking her away from his roaming eyes, but when she eventually turns back to me, her face is blank, and I realise she was playing my brother. I shouldn’t care either way, but knowing she isn’t interested in him makes me feel inexplicably elated.
“I’m going to the ladies’ room,” she whispers discreetly a few minutes after we finish our meal. It’s the first words she’s said to me since we sat down. I catch her scent of sweet magnolia and jasmine as she stands. It’s the same scent she wore the day we were in the nursing home together. Like a Pavlovian response, my mouth waters.
Watching as she walks away, I can’t help but wonder what she’s wearing under that red dress. She might have disobeyed me with its colour, but her long nails are painted in matte black. All I can think about is strippingthe dress off her to find out if her underwear is red or black.
Fuck me, what's this girl doing to me? I’d invited her here to pay her back for walking out on me that day, but the more time I spend with her, the less I want to punish her for it, and the more I want to ask her what I did wrong.
Wanting a replay of a sexual experience with the same woman is not a familiar feeling for me, but the fact it’s Callie Messina that is the exception, is fucking with me in a way I did not see coming. Before I can second guess why, I see my parents are also watching her leave the room. It’s all the reminder I need about why I brought her here.
I stand and follow her to the ladies.
She walks in and a few seconds after her, an older lady follows, but I jog towards her, stopping her in her tracks.
“Excuse me, this toilet is out of order. There is another one at the end of the hall.”
She takes in my smart dress and charming smile and takes me at my word. Thanking me, she hurries away. I slip into the bathroom and lock the door behind me. The click has Callie looking up from where she stands in front of the sinks. Her forehead creases.
“This is the ladies. What are you doing in here?”
“You disobeyed me earlier. I asked you to wear black, and you wore red.”
“We’ve been over this. You are not my boss. I can wear what the hell I want. And I wanted to wear red.”
“No. You wanted todisobeyme. You hate red. You hate any colour that isn’t black.”
“Black isn’t a colour.” She smooths down a loose hair and brushes her long bangs out of her eyes, and for some reason, it makes me want to mess them up again.
“Stop arguing with me.” I growl.
“Stop telling me what to do.” She rummages in her small handbag, pulling out a lipstick. I watch as she carefully reapplies it, her actions slow and measured as the deep red gloss glides over her lips perfectly.
I’m only a few steps away, and can smell the strawberry scent. The sweetness contrasts her snarky exterior, and I imagine what it'd be like to lick it from her mouth.
Fuck, I need to focus on my plan. Not get distracted by her again.
I stroll over to her and take the tube from her hand. Opening it, I rub my finger across the applicator before smearing it roughly across my mouth.
“What are you doing?” Callie’s brow furrows in confusion. I pull the bottom of my shirt out of my trousers and mess up my hair a little. I turn to Callie and tug the ribboned bow on her dress. Not enough to untie it, but just so it looks lopsided. She freezes, and I grab her hand and yank her out of the door and back into the hallway before she can object.
We run straight into my parents.
Perfect timing.
I knew they’d follow me out here to confront me. Of course they wouldn’t do it in public.
“Asher James Alexander Pennington. What is the meaning of this?” My mother only middle names me when she’s really mad.
