Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
It was hard for me to imagine being with another woman after Rome. She was the only woman I wanted to spank and fuck. She was the only woman I allowed to sleep in my bed. She was the only woman who ever met my mother. The future was dark and cold, and I loathed my next conversation with Rome.
If she even gave me a conversation.
11
Calloway
I knew I was walking into a war zone when I went to her apartment. Christopher would probably punch me in the face, and I wouldn’t block the hit because I deserved it. It would be easier to call, but that would also be pussy shit.
I wanted to talk face-to-face.
I knocked on the door and heard Christopher’s voice from the living room. “Gee, I wonder who that could be?” He yanked the door open and stared me down with the same expression he wore at Ruin. If he’d had a gun, he probably would have shot me right then and there. “Come here to tell us some more lies? To make us believe you’re something you’re not.” He pushed the door open until it banged against the wall. “Get your ass inside, and tell us all about it.”
I hated being told what to do. It rubbed me the wrong way and set my teeth on edge. My automatic response was to grab him by the neck and slam his head against the wall. But since that wouldn’t help my chances with Rome, I kept my hands to myself.
I walked inside and saw her standing in the living room, her arms crossed over her chest. She wore an old t-shirt and sweatpants, her hair in a bun because she’d already been in bed when Christopher came home and told her the news.
The look she gave me was terrifying.
So much rage. So much hate.
All directed at me.
Christopher slammed the door once I was inside. “Tell her the truth, Calloway Owens…if that’s even your real name. She needs to hear it from you.” He raised a hand to my shoulder to shove me.
That was something I wouldn’t allow. I grabbed his wrist before he could touch me, warning him with my gaze. “I get that you’re upset. But don’t fucking touch me.” I pushed his hand back, forcing him to stagger slightly. I liked Christopher and didn’t want to throw a punch, but if he pushed me, I would snap.
“Calloway.” Rome’s commanding voice came into my ear, making me forget about my standoff with Christopher. There was strength but also a noticeable hint of betrayal.
I turned my gaze on her, seeing the unrelenting fire in her eyes. Her eyes shifted back and forth as she looked into my gaze, searching for the truth without asking a single question. Her arms were still tightly crossed over her chest, her walls higher than they were when we first met. I actually felt a sense of fear jolt through me because the idea of losing her was oddly terrifying.
“I’m gonna give you the benefit of the doubt after everything we’ve been through.” Even in sweats and a loose bun, she looked ready to attend the Oscars. Her natural confidence was her most beautiful feature. Despite what her brother had witnessed, she was still giving me a chance to tell my side of the story. It made me want her more. “Is everything Christopher told me true? Are you the owner of a BDSM club?” Her voice shook at the end, like the word BDSM was a curse.
I held her gaze and felt my heart sink into my stomach. Judging by the look on her face, once I gave my answer, she would be done with me. It was as clear as the sky on a cloudless day. “Christopher, can I speak to Rome alone?”
“Fuck no,” he barked. “I have no idea who you are.”
“Christopher, it’s fine,” Rome whispered. “Perhaps we should have this conversation in private.”
Once Rome asked him to leave, Christopher didn’t object. He walked to the door. “I’m just a phone call away…” His footsteps sounded against the hardwood floor, and then the door clicked shut behind him.
My eyes never left her face. These past six months had been the best of my life. I wasn’t ready to walk away.
“Calloway?” she pressed. “Answer my question.”
I ran my hand across my hair and over the back of my neck, wanting to give the answer she wanted to hear—but that also wasn’t a lie. “Yes.” I lowered my hand and rested it by my side. “I’ve been running it for seven years now. It belonged to my father, and he handed it down to me.”
She tightened her arms, taking a deep breath like the answer was painful to hear. “I can only assume you haven’t told me this because you’re involved with the lifestyle…” It wasn’t truly a question because she obviously didn’t want to hear the answer. “You knew I would disapprove.”