Chapter Seven — Alex
This is not how I thought this evening was going to go, I think, as I march towards the bathroom. I get there and step aside, waiting for Callum to punch in the code. I try to avoid his gaze, but I can’t help but peek.
When I do, he’s smiling. Gloating, obviously. It pisses me off, but turns me on too, which makes me hate myself. How did I get myself into this mess?
“Back against the wall,” he says, as soon as the door closes. “Hands above your head.”
I follow his instructions, and he steps facing me until our chests are touching. He grabs both of my hands with one of his.
“Your wrists are so fucking small.” He’s able to wrap his entire hand around them. “I love how tiny you are. How easy it would be to break you.”
“You’re the worst,” I say.
He laughs. “Is that the best you’ve got? Come on, I expected better.”
He turns on the toy and steps in between my legs. “Do you have any more insults for me? Come on, I want to hear them, sweetheart.”
He turns the vibrator up higher.
“Misogynist,” I pant.
“Ooh. I like that. Any more?”
He turns it up again, and I feel my pussy start to lightly pulse as pleasure runs through my body.
Callum kicks my legs apart, pressing his body against mine. I can feel his erection through his pants against my stomach. I can’t help but imagine him inside me. I’d be too proud to ever ask, though.
“Come on. Tell me baby girl. What else am I?”
“An asshole,” I say.
“Ooh, I like that.” He turns it up once more.
I close my eyes for a second.
“Eyes open,” he says. “What else?”
He turns it up again, and the feelings are almost overwhelming. I can’t help it.
“Now’s the part where you beg,” he says.
I bite my lower lip. I don’t know if I can bring myself to.
“Beg,” he says. “Or we’re gonna go right back out there, and I’m gonna make you come in front of the waitress.”
I stare at him. “You wouldn’t,” I say.
“Oh, I would,” he says. “I don’t give a fuck. If you don’t believe me, try me. I dare you.”
I look at him. His emerald eyes are fiery and scary. I don’t think he’s bluffing.
“Fine,” I whisper. “You win. Please.”
He presses his body against mine more firmly, his lips brushing against my neck. “Please, what?”
“Please let me come. Please let me come,” I whimper, my voice devolving into a whine.
“Please let me come daddy,” he says.
I grit my teeth. Fuck. Of course he wants me to call him that. It’s probably the most degrading thing he can think of.
“Beg me,” he says slowly, his voice thick like molasses, “or we can go back out there, and you can come in front of the waitress. Your choice, sweetheart.”
He bites down on my neck lightly, and my breathing quickens.
He turns the vibrations down, and the pleasure leaches from my body, withering away. It’s too much. He’s been teasing me for at least forty-five minutes now. I can’t take it any longer.
“Come on, Alex,” he says. “Be a good girl and ask Daddy nicely for what you want.”
“Please let me come,” I whisper.
Callum turns the toy up and looks at me expectantly.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I’m about to say next. “Please let me come daddy,” I whisper through gritted teeth.
Callum turns the toy up higher, and right when I’m about to go over the edge, he turns it off.
That’s right. Off.
That fucker turned the vibrator off. After making me beg him to come. And now he’s smiling, like he just won the fucking lottery.
I hate him.
I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.
“What the fuck?” I ask, my eyes flashing open.
He raises his eyebrows. “Let’s go pay, and then we can leave.”
“Are you serious?” I say. “You didn’t let me —” I pause. I don’t want to say it, but he knows exactly what.
“That wasn’t part of the deal,” he says, smirking.
I’m so angry I feel like slapping him. Of course he’s right. The deal was that he wouldn’t make me come in front of the waitress if I begged him to let me come in here. Technically, we never said anything about him actually letting me come…but I thought that was implied.
I’m starting to learn that with Callum, I should never assume anything is implied.
If it’s not in writing, he can and will bend the rules to his advantage.
I hate it. But I get it. Because I’d do the same.
“I’m not the only one who can play by technicalities, Alex,” he says. “Now put yourself together and meet me by the car in two minutes,” he says, as he exits the bathroom.
Fucker, I think to myself.
I go to the mirror and look at my face. I’m flushed, sweat on my forehead. My hair’s somehow a mess. There are faint red marks on my neck where his teeth lightly grazed my skin.
As pissed as I am, a part of me is slightly impressed.
I fooled him with poker. And now he got back at me.
Even I can recognize the elegance of his scheme, as much as it pisses me off.
And again, as annoyed as I am, part of me respects it.
I don’t think I’ve ever dated — or probably even slept with — a guy smarter than me.
I don’t know if Callum is, but he’s certainly giving me a run for my money.
I’ve always been able to kind of manipulate men to get what I want. They’re always too dumb to realize what’s going on. But not with Callum. I can tell he’s attracted to me, but he doesn’t let his attraction control him. He’s still in control.
Other men have been so easy to manipulate. They’re weak, driven by their desires. If you turn them on, you can get them to do anything. Sign away their firstborn even.
But not Callum.
He didn’t even try to fuck me. And God knows, I might have given in if he’d tried. That’s how desperate I was. And I’m sure he knew that.
But Callum didn’t take advantage of my vulnerable state. Because fucking me wasn’t his goal. His goal, I think, was to prove something.
And as much as I hate to admit it, he succeeded.
He showed me who was in control tonight.
And it wasn’t me.
The End.