“Get back in position and don’t move until I tell you,” he commanded gruffly.
Closing her eyes, Callie gave herself over to Sean. It would be the last time she’d ever experience submission, most likely. Even if she sometimes fought it, she craved it. She intended to savor these precious moments.
Rocking back on her elbows, she spread her legs again for him.
“Scoot closer.”
The entire camera had to be one big close-up of her cooch. But she didn’t argue, just complied. Then she waited.
“Like that, yes.”
Sean remained silent for a long minute, and she could all but feel his eyes on her. In her fantasy, he climbed his way up her body with nips and kisses, then impaled her with that thick c**k of his, making her breath rush and her back arch. She pictured Thorpe hovering over her, too, watching, tipping her head over the edge of the bed to feed his erection between her lips and deep in her mouth, muttering in the filthiest, most intimate whisper how much he was looking forward to impaling her backside.
“I don’t see any bruises on you.” Sean’s voice pulled her from her sensual daydream.
Callie eased up a fraction and looked at Sean from between her legs. “There are none, Sir. Thorpe didn’t force me.”
A fact that made her feel even more guilty, but she didn’t try to hide from the truth.
“Sit up and look at me.” He stayed silent until she did as he’d bid. “Leave the robe off. I like you naked.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He sent her a reassuring nod, telling her that she’d pleased him. “Callie, he may not have forced you, but you were upset, and he took advantage of you.”
“Not really.” She bit her lip. “Sean, I have to be honest. I have feelings for him, too. I don’t think it’s one-sided.”
Damn, why couldn’t she just keep her mouth shut? Or break up with him and be done?
Sean’s face closed up. “He had four years to give you what you needed. And he did nothing. He’s not the man for you. I am. Don’t let your gratitude lead your heart in the wrong direction.”
It wasn’t like that at all. Yes, she was grateful to Thorpe for many things, but she would have fallen for him regardless. Some invisible string tethered her to him, tugging her in his direction . . . even as another string seemed to bind and yank her toward Sean, too.
It was best that she was leaving. She could never choose between them. And if she tried, she would inevitably lose the other for good.
“I understand what you’re saying,” she answered obliquely. After tomorrow, it wouldn’t matter.
“Good. I’m going to do my best to reason with Thorpe so I can see you. We have a lot to talk about, lovely.”
He was dead wrong. It was all but over, even if that fact was breaking her heart in a million pieces. If she told him that now, it would only start an argument that neither of them would win. Next time she saw him would simply be good-bye.
“I’ll see what I can do on my end, too.”
“Excellent,” he praised. “Now charge your phone.”
“I already am.” She smiled. Sometimes he knew her too well.
Sean sent her an approving nod, his blue eyes caressing her face through the screen. “Eat your pizza and get some sleep. I plan to come for you tomorrow.”
And by then, she’d be ready to release him and go. “I will.”
***
THORPE was slumped over his desk at quarter ’til three when his phone rang. The club members were gone. Axel had swept the place clean. No sign of Kirkpatrick, but Thorpe knew better than to assume he’d seen the last of the ass**le. Callie had helped with cleaning and closing, then taken herself off to bed. She was too quiet and hadn’t met his gaze when he’d given her back the contents of her suitcases, sans bags.
He planned to keep a very close watch on her. Lack of luggage alone wouldn’t be enough to keep her here if she was determined to go.
At the first shrill chime, Thorpe started, then all but pounced on the phone. He looked at the display, smiling at the familiar number.