10. Callum
We went for sushi.
Low lighting, upscale, tucked off the beaten path in a quiet corner of Spielberg.
Marco said it was “for the vibe,” but I knew better.
It was for the privacy. He and Kimi had booked the reservation before we even landed and left us the center seats on purpose in this round corner booth. And for that, I might hug them later.
Right now, I was too busy wrecking the woman currently trying not to whimper into her wine.
The restaurant was all velvet hush and golden candlelight. Soft jazz buzzed under the low hum of voices and the clink of ceramic. Outside, traffic was a distant hum. Inside, it felt like sin could go unnoticed—no, it felt welcomed .
She sat beside me doing such a good job at pretending she wasn’t absolutely unraveling.
Her back was straight, chin held high, thighs clamped tight together.
But I saw the tension in her neck, the flutter of her pulse, the slight drag of her breath every time I moved my fingers.
So discreetly, so fucking slowly. Just enough movement to drive her mad.
She played her part flawlessly, letting the boys run their mouths and tossing out sharp quips with that polished edge. I had her panties pulled tight, wedged between her swollen, soaked lips as punishment for running from me again.
And I was having the time of my fucking life.
God, I’d missed this, her , the way she fell apart from nothing but pressure and a whispered threat. She’d been flushed when we stepped out of the car, practically radiating heat after I did nothing but hold her hand. The moment we sat down at the table, though? I hadn’t let up, not once.
Kimi and Marco sat across from us, either oblivious or choosing to be. But I knew Aurélie. She was glassy-eyed and struggling to breathe, her thighs slick with need.
I wasn’t going to let her come. Not yet.
“Is it hot in here?” she asked suddenly, shifting in her seat. I pressed harder against the lace, right over her clit. She fanned herself just as sweat beaded at her temples. I wanted to lick it off while I fucked her senseless.
“You’re wearing a blazer in the middle of summer,” Marco pointed out, then narrowed his eyes at her. “Actually, you good, Dubois?”
“No shirt underneath,” she replied, as if that was even a helpful answer at all, and wrapped both her hands around her water glass. She sipped through a straw, sucking down half of it as if it could cool her down.
I wanted to laugh. There was no cooling down between us. There never had been, and there never would be. We only burned for each other.
Sake arrived in tiny ceramic cups. Marco poured for everyone and toasted to something that sounded vaguely like “chaos and coochie.” None of us bothered correcting him.
Aurélie gave a teeth-baring smile. “You know, Kimi, I have photographic evidence that supports the theory that Finns like to fuck their siblings. Shall I pull it up?”
Kimi blinked. “Wait, really?”
"No, you idiot, she's just fucking with you because she's a feral gremlin tonight." Marco snickered, toying with his napkin like a child. The grin on his face was nothing shy of mischievous.
“She’s French,” I said lazily. “She’s always a feral gremlin.”
“And flushed,” Marco added. "Should we be worried about her?"
“She said she's hot,” I answered for her, dragging my middle finger along the seam of lace, then in a firm circle over her clit. She squeezed her thighs together like that would keep me away from her cunt for long.
I withdrew my hand once our sushi was delivered, only so we could eat. She relaxed at the reprieve.
Marco raised a brow. “You sure you’re okay, Dubois? Do you need some space from this asshole?” He hitched a thumb at me.
“I’m amazing,” she said, fanning herself again.
“And twitchy,” Kimi muttered.
“She’s French ,” I said again, smirking as I offered her a piece of nigiri with my chopsticks.
“She’s always twitchy.” She hesitated, then leaned in and took the sushi.
My fingers, glistening with her arousal, ghosted over her lips as she pulled it into her mouth.
Then, deliberately—because she knew what I was doing—she licked her lips.
Right where my fingertips had just been.
I almost fucking groaned. I needed to be inside her.
Leaning close, I brushed her ear with my mouth. “You’re going to be so good for me, aren’t you?” I murmured. “Going to sit there, dripping, while I finger-fuck you with nothing but friction?”
Her breathing hitched. She crossed her legs, then uncrossed them.
Marco and Kimi were deep in some idiotic debate about mochi versus gelato.
She looked like she might start breaking apart.
I reached beneath the table discreetly and dragged the lace tighter again.
She whimpered. It was barely audible, but I heard it.
“Something wrong?” I asked sweetly.
“No. Yes. I mean, I—I’m fine.”
“You sure?” I purred. “You’re starting to sweat, mon amour."
“Probably just coming down with something,” she bit out. Then added under her breath, “Je suis tellement fatiguée, je peux à peine penser dans une langue, encore moins deux?—”
I'm so tired, I can barely think in one language, let alone two ? —
Marco blinked. “What?”
“She’s tired,” I translated. “Running too hot. Having a hard time thinking in two languages.”
“Right,” Kimi said, deadpan. Then, sarcastically, "Because that's always been a problem for her."
I knew better. I knew that look in her eye. The way her mind was slipping, sliding between languages, barely able to think. I’d put her there. And I’d do it again, and again, and again.
I leaned closer. “Finish your sake,” I whispered. “And I promise I won't make you suffer too much longer. I'll make you come, with my mouth, with my fingers. Maybe both if you behave.” Her legs snapped shut so hard it rocked the table.
Kimi grabbed his water glass before it could fall over. “Aurélie. Are you sure you're good? You've had a rough week.”
“I said I'm fine ,” she snapped, voice strangled and irritated. The tips of her ears were red.
Marco was giggling like a schoolgirl. “She’s savage tonight. I love it.”
“She’s mean when she’s hungry,” I said casually, dragging my knuckles up her thigh. “You should see her when she’s starved .”
Her chopsticks slipped out of her hands and clattered onto her plate.
I picked up a piece of sashimi and offered it to her.
She didn’t hesitate this time, just opened her mouth and let me feed her, eyes locked on mine.
"So good for me," I said under my breath.
She shivered, and I was hard. Painfully, desperately hard.
Had been from the moment I kissed her under the spotlights of that interview earlier.
Every little twitch she gave, every soft gasp she tried to swallow down—it was all I could do not to drag her out of here and fuck her in the backseat like a teenager.
She was unraveling, and I was right behind her.
“You’re shaking,” Kimi noted, brows furrowed. “Too much wasabi?”
“It’s your personality, actually,” she quipped. I pinched her clit through the lace of her panties. She cursed under her breath and gripped the table so hard I thought it might shatter.
Marco snorted. “Unhinged women are so hot.”
Aurélie smiled wickedly and pointed her chopsticks at them. “If either of you try to picture what’s under this, I’ll stab you with my chopsticks and claim diplomatic immunity. That's if Callum doesn't beat you to it. Apparently he's a tad possessive.”
Kimi blinked. “Noted. But Marco's right?—”
I turned to him slowly, smiling with nothing behind it. “Try that again, mate.”
He looked away. Smart.
I leaned in once more, grazing her jaw with my teeth. “Careful,” I whispered. “Your fucking attitude is going to be dripping down your thighs. You keep mouthing off, I’ll take you to the bathroom and show you exactly what a bad girl earns.”
She turned her face toward mine, pink and wrecked and furious. “Callum,” she whispered. “I swear to God.” She lifted her hair to tie it back, fingers tugging it into a ponytail. It exposed her neck just enough for the bruise under her ear to show. Purple and all fucking mine.
Kimi and Marco immediately zeroed in on it.
“Jesus,” Marco muttered. “You trying to brand her?”
Kimi hollered with laughter.
Aurélie didn’t miss a beat. “Wear your bruises with pride, boys. Some of us earn them.” I opened my mouth to say something witty, but she smacked my hand away from her thighs.
Oh, I was going to make her suffer for that later.
"And don't even fucking think about making some snarky remark to that, or I will kill you. "
“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” I said.
“How you holding up, Fraser?” Marco asked casually, shifting the topic as he popped a piece of dragon roll into his mouth. “You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”
I leaned back, casually sipping my sake. “Three painkillers deep and blissfully numb. Never better.”
Her head whipped to me. Just like that: clarity. The haze vanished. Her pupils shrank, her spine straightened. She didn’t say anything; she didn’t have to. It was all there on her face. God, she cared . I loved her so much.
Then she swiped my sake out of my hand. "Hey—what the hell?"
"What painkillers are you on?" she hissed, voice low and sharp, fury bleeding into the words.
I blinked. “Uh. Tramadol, a wee bit of codeine, and… I can't remember the third. It's for the muscle spasms.”
“You are not drinking on that cocktail,” she snapped, clutching the cup like she was about to chuck it across the room. “Are you insane ?”
Marco and Kimi both stopped mid-bite.
“Auri—”
“No,” she bit out, eyes locked on mine now, glassy and pissed . “I already almost lost you once. We are not doing that again. I don’t care how numb you want to be. If you pull that shit again, I swear to God, Callum—” Her voice cracked. And fuck, I couldn’t breathe.