CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Sutton
Coffee.
That’s my first thought when I stumble out of bed.
Callahan.
He’s my second.
Last night was . . . frustrating, sexy, unexpected . . . empowering. Sure, I stuck to my word and held tight to it, but my dreams let me know exactly what I was missing by walking away. Boy, did they.
And now I must get coffee before I head out to the office they’ve assigned me and “officially” start my time here at Ocean’s Edge.
The question is, what is the right answer?
What is it that Callahan can offer me that will be enough for me to risk everything I have going for me?
Or maybe it’s more an exercise for him to think more of me than the one-night stand girl.
We will be working with each other after all, and I need him to respect me and think of me as an equal.
You can’t exactly do that when the first time you meet, you drop your skirt without a second thought and then cave again soon after that.
I’m not an idiot in thinking our time spent will be anything more than wild monkey sex as Lizzy called it, but if he has to earn it, then maybe he’ll be less likely to be careless about keeping what’s happening a secret.
Because it does have to remain a secret or Roz would have me out on my ass in seconds for risking any future work with Sharpe International.
Roz.
Jesus.
She’d kill me for any and all of this. What happened to me? Why am I even risking this for sex?
I guess I’ll have time to figure out the answer to that while he figures out his answer to me.
Besides, it might be fun in the meantime. A little flirting. A lot of wanting and not getting. Hell, we jumped right to the endgame. Maybe a little cat and mouse will be good for a bit.
Will wanting and not having be hard? Hell, yes.
But I also think it’ll be worth it.
How will Callahan be toward me today after I threw him for a loop and literally left him hanging last night? I bet that’s never happened before.
Even worse, how hard will it be for me to concentrate with him near?
I rub the sleep from my eyes as I shuffle out of the bedroom and then jolt to a stop when I hear the sound of a spoon stirring against the ceramic of a coffee cup.
And there, in the kitchen of my villa, is Callahan. With nothing on but a pair of workout shorts and running shoes. His hair is wet with waves of it going every which way, and the muscles in his back ripple as he doctors the cup of coffee in front of him.
“Um . . . What are you still doing here?”
Unfazed by the sound of my voice, Callahan watches the creamer as he pours it into his cup. “Making coffee. There’s more than enough left in the pot if you want some,” he says as casual as can be.
“That’s not what I asked.”
Callahan turns and looks at me for the first time. Jesus. Seriously? After a long, restless night of no sleep, thinking about him, this is how he greets me?
His cheeks are flushed from what I assume was a run or some other form of exercise. And that assumption is based off the V of sweat that darkens the front of his shorts. Said shorts that unknowingly might or might not currently be showcasing the ridge of the head of his cock.
“I’m sorry. I was distracted.” He flashes a grin that tells me he knows exactly what distracted me and it was on purpose. “What did you ask, Sutton?”
“This is my room. Villa. Whatever you want to call it.”
“That’s not a question.”
“Clearly.”
“And your point is what?” He leans against the counter behind him and takes a sip of his coffee. He hisses from its heat, but his eyes stay locked on mine above the rim of the cup.
“That you’re here. That you’re making coffee as if—”
“As if I own the place?” The grin he flashes is mischievous as all hell. “Well . . .”
“That’s not cool.”
“I thought it was pretty witty,” he says.
“No.”
“Then charming at least.”
I emit an exasperated sigh. First, I get domineering, sexy Callahan. Then I get brooding, I’m going to pretend I’m not Johnnie Walker, Callahan. And now I get playful, boyish Callahan. I don’t want him to be any of them because it’s damn attractive.
“Whether you own the place or not,” I try again, “that doesn’t give you the right to make yourself at home.”
He points to the second room in the villa. “Considering that’s my room, I’m supposed to be making myself at home.”
“Come again?”
A smile ghosts over his lips. “That’s the plan.”
“Answer my question,” I grit out, trying to ignore anything charming or seductive or sexy that he does or says.
“That’s my room.” A nonchalant shrug. “So that makes this our shared living space, and therefore I have every right to make myself at home, right?”
“No. It can’t be.”
“Pretty sure it is. Either that or someone’s going to get pissed that my clothes are in his or her closet.”
“No. Your stuff wasn’t in there last night.”
“You sure like that word a lot.”
“What word?” I ask, his change of topic throwing me.
“No.”
“No, I don’t.”
His grin widens. “You should learn to embrace the word yes more. Supposedly giving in to the pleasures saying yes helps you live a longer, happier life.”
“You think you’re cute, don’t you?”
“I know I am. Although I prefer words like sexy or handsome or devastating. I think those have more panache to them, don’t you?”
I stare at him and his devilish grin and his incredibly absurd abs and know he’s winning this round. Him and his ridiculous comments and sheepish smile.
“I think you need to explain why you’re staying in my villa.”
“The A/C in mine went out.”
“Open a window,” I say dryly.
“You were so preoccupied wanting me last night, that you assumed I was here for pleasure. Kind of like I was your fuck toy, although that term is offensive in so many ways, so let’s not use it.
” He takes a sip of coffee, clearly pleased with the show he is putting on right now. “Oh, I forgot to ask you.”
“Ask me what?”
“How your regret tastes this morning.”
“My regret?” I laugh the word out. “What are you talking about?”
“The regret you felt after you walked away last night. The regret you felt as you lay in bed alone when I could have been occupying it with you.” He licks his bottom lip. “Especially when you know how good it can be.”
“It?”
“Yes. Sex.” His eyes fire with suggestion. He sets his coffee cup down and crosses his arms over his chest. Of course, my eyes drift to his biceps when they flex with the motion, but then his words hit my ears. “With me.”
He walks over to the coffee pot and pours some into a new mug before reaching out with it to me. I stare at the cup, clearly a peace offering that I one hundred percent don’t trust.
“It’s just coffee,” he says.
“It’s just coffee from you, though.”
He sets it on the counter beside me and then steps back, scrubbing a hand over his unshaven jaw. “Is this going to be a problem? Us working together when you want me so desperately?”
“I think you should ask yourself the same question.” I step into him so that when I breathe in, the tight buds of my nipples rub against his chest. “We’re going to be working beside each other, day in and day out, and now we’re going to be sharing the same living space.
” I step back to allow enough space to trail my finger down the middle of his chest. His abs tense as he sucks in a breath.
“Looks to me like you created the problem yourself, now didn’t you, Callahan? ”
“You’ve given me an impossible question to answer.” He reaches out to grab my hip and I grab his wrist to stop him.
“Maybe you’re not used to having to work for anything worthwhile,” I murmur, our lips inches apart, our bodies physically vibrating with need and want. “Answer the question, and I’m yours.”
He groans as he overpowers my hold on his wrist and puts his hand on my ass, pulling me against him so I can feel every long, hard inch of him.
“You don’t want to play with this fire,” he whispers, the warmth of his breath on my lips.
“Maybe I look forward to being burned.”
His eyes hold mine. “That’s how you’re going to play this, huh? Tease my cock, test my restraint, and then not let me have you.”
“It’s here. It’s yours for the taking.” We breathe in sync as my words take hold. His eyes darken, his body tenses. “The question remains though. What’s in this for me?”
He takes my hand and places it over his cock I was just admiring through his shorts. “I think this is a pretty self-explanatory answer.”
The ache between my thighs comes to life (as if it ever really stopped) and the suggestion in his gaze alone has me remembering to breathe.
I jolt back a step, needing space from the man who clouds my senses and thoughts. I grab the cup of coffee and move to the counter. I add too much creamer. Then sugar when I already added sugar. Anything to occupy my hands from reaching out and touching him.
“It’s a dangerous game you’re playing here, Collins,” Callahan says with a tsk that is so dominant and sexy I can imagine him doing it in the bedroom.
“I have a feeling you’re used to playing games.”
I feel the warmth of his body behind me, smell the scent of his skin, and the heat of his breath on my shoulder as he dips his mouth to my ear.
“I don’t normally play games. I don’t have to.
I take what I want . . . but I’ll play, this time.
This once. I’ll play because you might be the only bright spot for me in this fucking place.
I know the prize and fuck if it’s not worth waiting for.
” He slides a hand around my front and cups me.
“But be warned, I’m not patient, especially when what I want is sexy as hell and within reach. ”
He licks a line down the curve of my neck before he steps back and walks out the villa’s door.