Page 73 of Close Contact
It was so goddamn fun watching the wheels in his brain turn as he deciphered my mood. Sure, I was messing with him, but I was half serious, too. He should be held accountable. No one else seemed to be doing that for him.
“I mean, no, but?—”
I shrugged, stretching my arms over my head and humming. “Tonight, you can watch me lie in your bed and do absolutely nothing. Pasuneputaindechose.” Then I pranced out of the room and down the hall into his room to get myduffelbag. I double-backed, going to the living room for my glass of wine, then returned to the guest room.
Callumstood at the end of the bed, a bit stunned—like he didn’t quite expect to be caught red-handed or that I’d actually follow through on my little threat. He was hard under those joggers, hair mussed, eyes blazing. But I was far too satisfied with myself to give in.
He rounded the bed, grabbed my hips, and pulled me back into him after I set my things down.
“Don’t do this to me,” he groaned.
I slapped his hands away and stepped out of his hold. “Tu as creusé ta tombe… now lie in it.” I stood on my tiptoes and brushed a kiss to his lips. He cupped my face to deepen it, but I pulled back. “And you have to keep your hands to yourself tonight.”
He actually whimpered, the sound slipping out of him like it hurt. Meanwhile I just smiled internally. “Aurélie.” It was practically a whine. “Do wehaveto go out tonight?”
I gasped dramatically, then pretended to be upset by rifling through my bag and tossing my stuff on the bed. “You don’t want me to celebrate my first Formula 1 win?” I paused mymovements to pout at him. “Wow. And here I thought you were proud of me.”
“Iamproud of you,” he said instantly, stepping closer. “I just—” He gestured downward, voice cracking. God, this was way too much fun. “I can’t go out like this.”
“Good.” I took a sip of my wine—a deliciously bold red blend. “Now you know how I felt all day.”
He let out a tortured noise and dragged both hands down his face as if he was about to combust. I grabbed my makeup bags, flat iron, and wine and went to the bathroom to put myself together. “It’s different for you! Yours isn’t visible!”
“Sounds like a personal problem,” I called over my shoulder.
Seconds later,Callumappeared behind me and leaned back against the wall. “You’re evil.”
I dabbed concealer under my eyes. “I prefer… strategic.”
“I could change your mind.”
“You could try.” I blended my concealer and moved on to my contour. “But I’m still pretty pissed you outed us without asking first.”
He had the audacity to look sheepish. “You said you’d beg for it. I just thought…”
“You’d get laid on command?” I offered.
He gave me that megawatt, dimple-showing grin, but it fell when I smiled sweetly back at him—the same way I smiled at the media when they asked if I belonged in Formula 1.
“You’re the one who sent that message mid-call.” Foundation went on next. “You got cocky, Fraser. And now…” I trailed off, letting him fill in the silence. Now he was fucked-up and staring at me as if I was both his salvation and his punishment. He stood there watching me as I set my base and moved onto my eyes.
“I’m going to die tonight,” he whispered.
I sipped slowly on my wine, hiding my smirk. “But you’ll look good doing it.”
He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around my waist while I did my eye makeup, chin resting on my shoulder. “I was literallyinside youan hour ago.”
I patted his hair. “And you did such a good job. You should be proud.”
Callumsighed and tightened his hold on me. I ignored him until I was done with my makeup.
“Off. I need to do my hair.”
“But—”
“Go get dressed,Callum. I’ll be done soon.”
But instead of leaving, he stepped closer again, eyes fixed on my reflection in the mirror.
