Chapter 14
CALLIE
I have more orgasms in the next couple of weeks than in my whole life so far.
I know I’m setting myself up for heartbreak—Reid was very clear that as soon as he’s healed, that’ll be the end—but I tell myself we’re friends.
He feels like my best friend. This is a sort of nursing bonus?
For both of us. As Reid promised that night after I thought he was hurt in the shower, we don’t have sex, and we don’t discuss it.
I make him cakes that he eats and compliments. He provides dinner. He upgrades the house more or less at the speed of his recovery, until it’s all luxurious. We spend nearly all of my time off together.
He doesn’t have me walk in on a massive pile of guns again, and I don’t mention what he did to my dad, but I do think about it. And the more I live with the idea, and with Reid, the less it seems like a problem, and more just a part of a man I care about. A lot.
I watch Reid’s wound getting better day by day, tightness developing in my chest as it closes and heals, drawing the time he’ll leave nearer.
At least I have a redecorated rental house, I guess.
I’m beginning to think I’d rather have Reid.
It’s about three weeks since he moved into my life, and I have a day off.
The cakes are finished for when I return, and I relax in the lounge as Reid works.
He clearly tries to carry out his duties around me, but I was on night shifts this week and so we haven’t seen as much of each other, because he has responsibilities.
I quite like that about him. He takes his business seriously.
I’m reading a book another nurse recommended to me when Reid appears at the lounge door and leans his good arm against the frame, his expression sober.
He’s wearing a tux, and I gape, because honestly, dressed like this he’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.
A work of art. The black of the tux and the silver of his hair and beard are next level.
I wait for him to speak, because he clearly has something he wants to say.
He sighs. “Is the book good?”
I slide in the bookmark, and turn to look at the cover, as though that will tell me the answer. I don’t know why I always do that. “It’s a beauty and the beast retelling, and it’s…” I struggle to explain. “Good, but not exactly what I was expecting. Blasphemy, but I think I preferred the movie?”
“Shocking.” He quirks one eyebrow. “Would you be upset if I asked you to do something else?”
“Depends what it is.” I pretend to be as serious as his expression is.
“I have an event I have to go to this evening. There’ll be people who could jostle against me, and what if my wound re-opened? I’ll need you with me.”
That’s very unlikely. And if something happened, a couple of hours wouldn’t make that much difference at this point.
“That sounds sensible.” I go along with his absurd excuse, because do I want to spend more time with Reid? Absolutely.
“Come on.” He straightens and holds out a hand. “Jack is waiting in the car to take us to buy you whatever you want to wear.”
I don’t even attempt to argue with Reid about the shopping trip. This man may not have technically kidnapped me, but he has entirely commandeered my whole life. The crazy thing is, I’m getting used to it, and coming to maybe… Like his arrogant, grumpy ways?
I do quiz Reid about what to expect, but he’s his usual brief answer-self. “You’ll see” and “That’s fine” is all I get when I ask him where we’re going and if I should put something fancier on for shopping. So I don’t embarrass him.
The car pulls up in front of a sleek store in a part of London I would never go to because everything is so expensive.
“Reid, I don’t know—”
“I do.” He takes my hand as we get out of the car and keeps it as we cross the pavement.
My fingers buzz with his proximity. It’s so casual, like this is what we do now.
Like he’s my… Boyfriend? It doesn’t feel like the right word for a man as sophisticated as Reid.
Lover? But that would imply he loved me.
A girl in perfect beige clothes and with smooth hair opens the door for us, and gives a welcoming smile and “Hello,” as though she’s been waiting.
Embarrassment washes over me, and I think I’d run if Reid wasn’t holding onto my hand.
This is not my scene. I’m an awkward girl who works as a nurse, and the woman steps back to reveal a shop that is so obviously fancy it’s only open for private clients. Like Reid.
“Welcome, Mr Maddox! If you let me know what you’re—”
“You won’t be needed,” he snaps, then turns to me. His eyes are dark and serious. “This is a formal event with the London Mafia Syndicate. It’s a ball of some type. You can wear whatever you like.”
The air whooshes from the room. A mafia event?
I… Oh, I can’t believe it. My mouth goes dry.
Reid just waits patiently, not looking away or seeming annoyed as I try to recover myself. The London Mafia Syndicate is a rumour in London, talked about in gossip on social media and magazines. And Reid is going to take me? In case his wound opens up?
That’s obviously ridiculous.
So is it that he wants me with him? Why?
I nod and look around. I’m going to do as Reid says, and choose something to wear. I’ll trust him, which is a weird thing to say about a man who sort of kidnapped me. Also—what girl would say no to a new dress? That would be silly.
I browse through the racks. There are all sorts of gorgeous outfits, and I linger over one that’s a lilac, multi-layered skirt and a fitted bodice.
Reid hulks over me, his usual dark rain-cloud self. Silent. I’m coming to be quite reassured when he does that.
I finger the dress, and discreetly check the price tag. I almost choke. Okay, not that. It costs five times my monthly rent. I move away and look at simpler dresses.
Picking out a dress in more of a work style, I do a quick peek, and it’s still outrageously pricey, but not breathtakingly.
“What about this?” If my gaze slides back to the multi-layered gorgeousness I can’t have, it’s not intentional.
“Hmm.” Reid doesn’t look at the dress I’m holding up, he looks at me. “What about that other dress?”
I shake my head and smile. “I don’t think that’s the right thing.”
“It’s a formal event. I’ve seen other women wearing things like that before. But this is…” He taps the dress I’m holding, which is modest, and unremarkable. No one will take any notice of me in that.
“I like it!” I lie brightly. “I’ll try it on.” I go to turn away.
“Callie.” Reid’s one word stops me, but I don’t dare look at him. He’ll see everything in my heart. How I want the dress, how I want him. How I adore him, and I don’t want to be a bind or an inconvenience.
He hooks one finger under my chin and guides my gaze upwards to look into his eyes. “What’s really going on here?”
“It’s too expensive,” I reply in a small voice.
He narrows his eyes. “Not your concern. I’m paying.”
“That’s kind—”
“Callie,” he says severely. “I wouldn’t bring you to a shop that I couldn’t afford to buy anything and everything you wanted from.”
“But—”
“I’m a billionaire. Do you know what that means?”
“You’re very rich?” I knew that already, but nobody is rich enough to throw this much money at clothes.
“A billion is a thousand millions. Do you not think an evening with you is worth a thousandth of my wealth?”
I feel like a spinning thing on a computer indicating it’s struggling to process the numbers. “A million is a lot of money,” I say, stupidly.
“It is. And you’re worth a lot more than one thousandth of my fortune. So please. Try on the dress. For me.”
“I…”
Reid shoots me a look so dark it shivers down my back.
Okay. Enough arguing with the billionaire. He knows more about money than I do. I know about healing bullet wounds, he has being absurdly rich covered. Practically the same thing.
“This colour?” Reid releases my chin and strides to the rack with the dresses I was originally drawn to.
“Yeah. But only to try on.” Whatever he says, I’m still not going to let him buy this dress. Perhaps we can rent it or something? Would it be wrong to wear it and return it? “I’ll try this one too.” I hold up the dress I’m grasping like it’s the source of all my sanity.
A thousand millions. I knew he was wealthy, and he’s a London Mafia Boss, they are notorious. But really? I just didn’t realise that a billion was that much. I thought it was like… a bit more than a millionaire? Ten times more? No wonder he’s so relaxed about completely renovating the house.
Hmm. I guess I’m not as special as I believed. It’s a lot of money to me, but not to him.
Reid rolls his eyes, but lets me take the sensible dress with me to the changing room. The shop assistants hang the dresses on rails, gushing at the choices, and bring the perfect neutral shoes for me to try with them.
It’s not like a scene from a movie at all.
But it is luxurious. The changing rooms are deluxe, with tissues, solid wooden benches, and cream curtains. The cubicle is practically the size of my bedroom before Reid extended it. The mirror is floor to ceiling, the light is diffused and flattering to me, even in my plain jeans and top.
I take off my clothes slowly, tentative. I can’t decide which to try on first. Maybe the expensive one? Because then there will be the need to try the other, and the last one you try sticks more in your mind, right?
It’s multi-layered, I realise as I remove it from the hanger. The inner lining is almost softer than the outside ones, with their extra flowers made from silk—or I think it’s silk.
As I pull it on, I gasp. Because even undone, it’s more lovely than I anticipated. It falls better over my body than it did on the hanger or the mannequin. It clings over my breasts then flares over my legs, the layers of silk making me look far more elegant than I really am.
It’s so unlike my scrubs, I almost laugh.
The fastenings at the back is a bit awkward, and I struggle for a few seconds before realising this is silly. I mustn’t damage the dress trying to get it closed.
Holding it up over my chest, I nudge the curtain open a tiny bit. “Hi?”
The shop assistants have gone, but Reid is there, sprawled on the complimentary sofa, no doubt meant for the men waiting for their women to shop. His head raises.
“Can you get someone to help with the fastenings?”
“Yes.” He smirks. “Me.”
“Oh, it’s okay, I’m sure the…”
He’s on his feet and strolling over with all the deadly languor of a big predatory cat. “Let me, Callie.”
Reluctantly, I let the curtain open as he tugs on it. He takes an audible shaky breath as I’m revealed. I get a flash of his tight expression, before he goes blank with shock.
“If it’s that bad, I’ll try the other one.” My heart twists. I was thinking this was quite nice. Alright, gorgeous, and although of course I’ll have the cheaper dress, I was looking forward to indulging in admiring this one fully.
“No,” he growls, and pushes me back into the private cubicle. Room. Whatever it is.
I almost flinch as he stands behind me, and with more dexterity than I expected, deals with the fastenings. Then he puts both hands on my upper arms, and gazes at me in the mirror.
“It’s not bad. It’s...” He shakes his head. “You’re amazing. I don’t want anyone else to see you looking so beautiful in that dress, but I also want to show you off, because you’re spectacular.”
My fears melt.
“You like it?” I’m smiling.
“I like you in it. You look good enough to eat.” He lowers his head, keeping eye contact with me in the mirror. “You’re fucking delicious in anything, but in this dress…” He lets out a rough groan and presses his mouth to my neck. “You’re irresistible. I have to touch you.”
As he drags his palms down my torso, I shiver, liquid heat pooling between my legs at how intense the power of his attention and desire is. He grasps my bottom, then reaches for my breasts.
“I need to make you come, sweetheart.” He pulls me back, flush against him, and I gasp as his thick, long, and extremely hard erection digs into the small of my back. He’s so big. “Now.”
“Reid, we can’t!” I squeak. But quietly. I don’t want anyone to know he’s in this dressing room with me. “Someone will hear!”
“Be a good quiet girl for me, then,” he murmurs, his lips on my ear sending sparks through me. “Lift the hem of your dress.”
I gather the soft fabric in my hands, dragging it up slowly, and watching Reid’s eyes go dark with desire.
I’ve never thought my legs were much to look at, but Reid’s expression says otherwise.
He’s already seen me naked, but he stares at me in the mirror as though I’m the most awe-inspiring sight in the world.
“Such cute, innocent knickers hiding a perfect jewel.” He slides his hand into the waistband of the cotton. “Ohhh, and so wet for me. My good girl.”
I glow from his low, raspy praise as his clever fingers split my seam and draw over my clit.
I shudder, the pleasure a bright flare of white.
Despite where we are, he doesn’t hurry. He indulges, his gaze fixed on my face as he strokes me.
And I’m helpless, pressing my lips together to prevent from crying out or begging for more, and unable to say no, because everything he does makes me feel more alive than I ever have before.
He amplifies his touch gradually, until I’m trembling and on the edge of coming, and mindlessly chasing his fingers as well as collapsing against the mirror.
“This fucking arm,” he grunts.
I haven’t heard any complaints from him about his injury, I realise. He’s just taken the pain and limitation at every stage. Or ignored the limits. The only thing that has made him grumble is not being able to touch me as he wants to.
That shimmers down my spine.
But the next second, I have no space for thoughts of being special. Reid has growled against my throat and bit down. I cry out. I can’t help it, because at the same time, he ruthlessly shoves two fingers into my wet entrance, and thrusts his thumb over my clit.
“Quietly, sweetheart,” he rumbles.
A moan that rises up my throat, but Reid’s fingers clamp over my lips, his fingers shoving into my mouth and preventing me from giving us away as he pumps the fingers of his other hand into my passage and rubs me where I’m desperate for him.
“Come for me. Give it to me,” he demands, his lips on my ear.
I see stars. I practically collapse as I come, my hands and cheek flat against the cool mirror, Reid’s hand between my legs, his hard body trapping me, and the pleasure-pain of his teeth at my neck.
I’m entirely his as I shatter for him, gripping his fingers. It has an intensity I’ve only felt with him. I’m whining as the orgasm sweeps over me, again and again.