Chapter Four — Alex
This is harder than I expected. He’s practically shooting me daggers. I keep reminding myself of what Trent said: This will work, trust me. He likes being jealous. He’s into it. It’ll turn him on and give him his competitive edge back.
Despite what Trent said, it’s hard. I can feel Callum’s anger building. And as much as I’m trying to ignore his gaze, it feels like a laser beam aimed straight at me. The men I’m sitting with are attractive, but I don’t really want them. I want him.
At the same time, there’s something else mixed with Callum’s anger.
Desire. I wish I could read his mind right now.
But even though I can’t, I feel like I can guess what he’s thinking.
Right now, I bet he’s thinking about me.
I bet he’s fantasizing and thinking about pinning me up against the wall and fucking me.
Then spanking me. Or spanking me first, then fucking me.
He’s angry, but turned on. I can feel it. I can feel his energy.
And that energy makes me want to push his buttons.
Why? I don’t know. Maybe I want to rile him up so that he finally snaps and loses control.
I want to flirt with these Swedish guys more and see if he does anything.
Is that messed up? Maybe. But then again, isn’t this entire thing we’re doing messed up?
It’s kind of the definition of messed up.
And I’m pretty sure he told me once that he’s single because he’s too messed up for any woman to want him. Well, maybe we’re two peas in a pod then.
During the meditation portion, we make eye contact for what seems like an eternity. I feel like he’s staring straight into my soul.
It takes every ounce of willpower in me not to look away, but I somehow do it. Finally, the meditation is over.
Now it’s the cold plunge. I follow the two men I’ve been flirting with into the colder room.
Somehow, he sneaks up behind me. I feel his hand on my waist. I shiver. He leans into my ear, whispering so quiet no one else can hear him.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks.
I turn around and look at him, eyes wide.
Then shrug.
“We’ll talk about this later,” he whispers again, his voice raspy.
“You don’t own me,” I whisper back, maybe slightly too loudly.
I don’t think anyone else heard what I said specifically, but they heard me say something. People turn to look at me. I flush and pretend to look at the ground. Callum looks at me and just smiles.
A shiver runs down my spine as I imagine what he has planned. Why do I like this? Why does the thought of him planning to do something to me later turn me on like this? Why does it make me want to act up more, rile him up even more?
I don’t know. All I know is that it does.
There are only so many cold plunge tubs, so people take turns. Some people go in the tubs together. “Let’s go together,” Callum says. “Unless you’re scared?”
I roll my eyes. “No,” I say.
“Good. I didn’t think so.”
“How about we make this one of our games?” he asks, whispering in my ear.
“Fine,” I blurt out.
He’s caught me off guard, but it seems fair enough.
“Whoever can last longer?” he says. I nod. “Good,” he says.
I watch the first round of people get out of the tubs, shivering, and start to second-guess myself. It looks fucking cold.
Why did I agree to this game?