CALLIE (The Naughty Ones Book 1) Page 19

  “Well, I do say.”

  “That’s preposterous! I never did such a thing. He…I missed you, and I wanted to come back and beg you to give me another chance. We were so good together once Cam—”

  “Oh, good Lord. Are you blind, dumb, or batty girl? Can’t you see he’s already committed to someone else? You must have heard the stories already. Shaw and Cameron are going to be parents.”

  “Er—”

  “Yes, and we’re very happy together besides,” Cameron says, interjecting and giving my hip a squeeze before I can say anything.

  “Her? You’re in love with her? But she’s so—”

  “Perfect. Yes, we all quite agree,” Vic drawls, strolling in like the lazy, happy lord of the manner.

  If I look closely, I’m sure I’ll see a canary feather peeking out of his mouth. Or a drop of cream. Only the man’s more like a lion than a cat, and if he’s a lion, his son is most definitely not a tame pussycat either.

  “This is ridiculous. Whatever would you see in a girl like her?” she rails, jumping to her feet in a fit.

  I pause and hold my breath, recalling that time Cameron had asked me the very same thing. What did Rob see in you?

  I didn’t know how to answer then, and I don’t know now, I just hope it’s a smidge more complimentary than he’s been thus far. The man blows hotter than a furnace before going arctic so I never know what to expect from one moment to the next.

  “The list is quite endless I assure you, but if you really must know…she’s kind, caring, she has a dead sexy arse when she’s not trying to hide it, though I don’t mind that much since I don’t like other blokes looking at what’s mine. Oh yes, and she’s not a bloody liar like so many woman I know.”

  Well…that was just…wow.

  I make a choking sound that only carries to him and feel a responding squeeze before he pulls me in and kisses my forehead.

  “And she’s not trying to palm her lover’s child off on me. We’re in this together. My blood inside her.”

  “Cameron, I—”

  “I think you should leave, dear. We’re having a family celebration, and you are most certainly not welcome. Victor dear, please do something about the riffraff.”

  The scene she makes while being escorted out is in no way pretty, but I can’t really find the will to pay much attention. No, my attention is firmly fixed on a grinning Cameron and the satisfaction I see in his eyes.

  “What did you do?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Cam

  I’m balls deep in the only woman who has ever made me feel this desperate and well and fulfilled all at once, and I want it to last forever. The pleasure is a great, swirling tidal wave that knocks me back and flings me up even as the strong contractions surrounding my dick pull me back down and focus my every nerve right on her and the pleasure I see exploding on her face.

  When it ebbs, leaving only the light glow of satiation and fatigue, I pull out and fall to the side, chuckling when she stretches sensuously and pulls the sheet up, turning on her side to face me.

  “You can’t keep sexing me up just to avoid the issue, Stone.” She growls. “We need to talk about this. Please.”

  I feel my muscles tense and prepare for the argument I’ve avoided for days. First, I’d begged off, pleading a full work schedule, and when that gets me nowhere, I fuck her to exhaustion and sleep with her cuddled around me, waking early enough to be gone before she rises.

  Mum and Dad are, of course, over the moon at this new development and fob Shaw off whenever she starts arguing about the craziness of the whole situation. I can’t say what had possessed me to do what I did.

  Perhaps it was the way Lettie had strolled in and expected a warm reception. Perhaps it was the disdainful way she’d been looking at Shaw. I can’t say if it was one or the other or maybe a combination of both, but I’d gone with instinct and just claimed her, stamping my mark on her for all the world to see.

  And I’m not bloody regretting it either.

  If that baby is Rob’s I will love it no less than if it were my own. If it isn’t his and it turns out she lied, well, I find myself not giving a damn either way.

  Fact is that baby is now mine along with his mum, and I fully intend to keep them. Whether Shaw agrees to that or not.

  “What’s to talk about, baby? Did you not see the papers yesterday? And the day before? And the day before that? You are my fiancée. We met in Spain, where you were running with the bulls and had a wild, passionate love affair only for you to discover that you were pregnant with my child. The Daily said you had to finish some very intense Archaeological project before you could join me here to start planning our wedded bliss.”

  “Oh Jesus! You actually read that stuff?”

  I love it when she gets all indignant and pretends that her and Mum don’t cackle themselves half to death over the ridiculous gossip and speculation.

  “Why indeed. How else am I to know what to say when people ask me how I met my little dumpling?” I ask, grinning and pulling her close.

  “Shut up. You knew this was just sex and now you have—”

  “Hush, Ducky. All will be well. We’ll be married, and I will, of course, claim the baby as my own and things will go on as before.”

  “No!” she yells, jumping to her feet.

  Surprising, since she moves so slowly lately due to her girth.

  Her denial and refusal angers me, but I have to remember that she’s emotional and still a little unsettled by the speed with which this is all happening.

  I, on the other hand, feel fabulous now that the conflicting emotions within me are at rest and settled. I don’t have to hate her and reject her on principle, and I don’t have to feel guilty about lusting after my dead brother’s girl since by her own admission she was never really his to begin with.

  The playing field is clear for me, wide open for me to take what I want and spit in the eye of every man and woman who’d pitied me and commiserated while laughing behind my back.

  “Oh come, Ducky. We can have a double wedding with Molly and Kent. Together Marge and Millie will plan an extravaganza that will rival any royal wedding to date. And just think, Ducky, Lettie and Fanny will be green with envy.”

  The irony that two of Britain’s most eligible bachelors will be marrying woman that our exes see as “fat and inferior” while they’re left standing on the sidelines tickles me pink. It really does, and I can’t help but bask in the compliments I’d received from many a male when they’d seen a photo of Shaw in the papers.

  Yes, my girl really is quite a beauty if only in that quiet unassuming way, and I love that she is now all mine.

  “Cameron! Be serious!” she yells, flinging her robe on to pace the length of the room.

  I don’t mention that the thing is so sheer I can clearly see every inch of her skin, her nipples, and the dark patch of hair between her legs. Really, she’s bloody sexy as hell.

  “I am being serious, Duck. This solves everyone’s problems. Mum’s been dying to talk to her friends about the baby, but she’s terrified that they’ll ask about the father. Short of telling them what an arse Rob was, she doesn’t know what to do.”

  “You want me to spend the rest of my life with you to make Marge happy!”

  Riiight. Obviously not the answer she was looking for.

  That’s all right Stone, just revise and rephrase, old chap.

  Maybe if I kiss her and fondle her bits again? She seems to lose track of her thoughts when I’m fondling her massive tits and her ample arse.

  “No, Ducky. I want you to marry me so that you and the baby can be cared for. My parents will be happy. Oh and there’s the added benefit that I truly bloody want you! Do you think I get this barmy for anything with a vagina?”

  She gives me a skeptical look, and I curse.

  “Well, what do you want me to say? You told me I’m fat and unexceptional or whatever it was you said to make me feel gross and you hated me till two second
s ago so forgive me for being a little skeptical here, Cameron. Jesus! I know that seeing Letitia again must have hurt—”

  “Not bloody likely.” I snort, lying back against the pillows with a laugh.

  I’m relaxed and smug, as she continues pacing—no stalking—across the room because I’m confident that once she loses steam we’ll be right back on track.

  “Cameron. Focus.”

  “But I am focused, baby. Right now, I am really focused on the way your nipples are staring at me through that robe. And the fact that I can see your lovely arse cheeks. And if that pisses you off, I should really refrain from mentioning that your robe has separated and I can see your quim.”

  I laugh when she attacks me with a pillow before tying her robe securely and glaring at me.

  “Aren’t you even a little weirded out by the fact that we’ve been boning like animals while I’m pregnant with your dead brother’s baby?”

  “Well, no. To be fair, he’s not here any longer, God rest his soul, and I really bloody find you sexy as hell. Next problem?”

  “Do you still believe that I lied about the baby being Robert’s?”

  Oh fucking hell. How can I possibly answer that truthfully without lying my arse off? I can’t and my pause gives her just the answer she’s been searching for.

  “I knew it! You still think I came all this way to fleece your poor parents! You’re such an asshole, Cameron Stone. Can’t you see that I would never do anything to hurt them? I freaking love them.”

  “Ducky.”

  “No. Just freaking stop already! Do you know why I asked you all these things, Cameron? I asked because I needed some honesty before I made my decision, and now I have the answer.”

  “What bloody answer?” I yell, coming off the bed to cut her off as she heads for the door.

  “The museum called me two days ago. They want me back.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cam

  The words leave her mouth and I freeze, my entire body going so rock hard I feel that a stiff breeze would shatter me into a million tiny pieces. Sure, maybe I deserve this for treating her like garbage and then allowing my lust to overtake me.

  Maybe it’s because I used her to stick it to Lettie. Maybe it’s because instead of telling her that now that I have had her, I can’t envision my life without her, I’ve just told her about the convenience of it all and expect her to blindly accept.

  Whatever the case, I feel fate and whatever bitch is working my life laugh her arse off and spit in my eye. The museum wants her back?

  Days ago, I would have laughed at such an innocuous statement and shrugged it off like I do most every problem that arises. I’m a solver. I look at a problem, see how to fix it, and then just go full out to get things exactly the way I want them.

  Just look at the way I’d manipulated and maneuvered Shaw.

  But this…

  I’d looked into it more in-depth if you will, after the impassioned speech she’d given me, and what I’d found was a revelation. Shaw had worked her arse off in high school and earned a full ride to NYU. She’d then spent three and a half years killing herself to graduate early so that she could be a shoo-in for an internship at a very prestigious museum that does not generally hire “fresh meat” right out of the lecture halls.

  My baby had earned her spot by the blood and sweat of her brow and been one of the best in her state. The fact that they’d given her a spot almost immediately tells me that she’s not only hard working, but also smart enough to have made a mark even in such a short time.

  But that’s not what worries me. No, my angst comes from the fact that she’s getting a second chance at something that was obviously a dream that she’d lost due to these unfortunate circumstances. A dream that she may not walk away from.

  A dream that could rip her out of my hands before I’ve fully claimed her.

  Gathering myself, I slam the door shut when she opens it and lean in, trapping her between the wood and my naked body.

  “You can’t…Mum and Dad would be devastated if you left us now, Shaw.”

  And me. But I don’t say that. I keep that inside because to tell her that it would fell me when the chances of her saying no are so high…emotional suicide.

  “This has been something I wanted since I was seventeen. I worked so hard for it that when I lost it I cried for a week,” she whispers, turning in the circle of my arms and leaning back into the door.

  Her purple eyes are alight with something I can’t define, but she meets me head on, her expression hard, and yet, I think I see some sort of hope lurking in the depths.

  “Please understand.”

  “What? That you have a home here with people who love you and all you can think about is some stupid dream that won’t get you anywhere?!” I yell, breathing heavily and leaning down into her face. “Mark me now, Shaw. This will not happen so you may as well get that out of your head.”

  Her expression turns mulish, and I realize I’ve only worsened the problem with my stubborn arrogance.

  “Yes, it will! You can’t make me stay.”

  “Ah, but you’re wrong. Would it surprise you to know that I have a friend on the board of that museum you want to run to? No? Good. Because I do. One phone call and I’ll have you right back where I want you. Without options. Don’t make me do this, Shaw.”

  “You’d do that just to save face? Look, I know that you don’t want people talking about…well, I guess I’d be leaving you, or it would seem that way but—”

  “Not seem! It would be that way, and they’d be bloody right. I’ve offered you something that many women would die to have. A home. Money. Security. Family. And you’re throwing it back in my face like so much offal. What? You no longer need us so you think we’re disposable.”

  Unfair, but I’ll play this game anyway I have to, to come out the winner. She will be my wife, and she will bear me more children. No matter if she hates me or not.

  We share a passion that is white hot. Even now, as furious as she is with me, I can feel her shudder when I press my hardened cock into her belly and lean down to breathe into her ear.

  “I won’t let you hurt the people I love. You’re ours; I claimed you and told the world that you are mine, and I bloody keep what I claim.”

  Her skin pebbles beneath my lips, and I smile through the anger coursing through me when her hips bump involuntarily into mine, her body announcing its arousal even if she won’t.

  “You’re a bastard. You’re just like Robert. He saw something he wanted and took it without thought. I am not a piece of meat.”

  I despise being lumped into the same category as Rob. He was my brother and I loved him, but he was a liar and a cheat, the worst sort of man because he never once failed to use every charm he possessed to take what he wanted.

  And like a small, spoiled little boy, he always got tired of his toys and discarded them. I, on the other hand, never threw anything away that I liked. My motto is more along the lines of keep what you have and make it fit your life.

  Shaw fits into mine. Perfectly. She always will. I appreciate everything about her, least of all her ability to get me harder than hell and drain me to a satisfied lump with nothing more than her pleasure and the knowledge that she is mine.

  I always keep what is mine, and this time it will be no different.

  I don’t care about her feelings right now. In fact, I want to hurt her just as much as she’s hurt me with yet another rejection.

  But first I’m going to show her exactly why I always win. I’m going to turn her desires against her and use her up, drain her to the point of hollowness, and then I will mold her into the perfect mate.

  “Cameron.”

  I seal my mouth over hers and cut her off, my arms locking around her and lifting her, her struggles and curses no match for me when I carry her to the bed, rip off her robe, and fall on her lush body.

  By the time I enter her wet heat, she’s writhing and begging me, her body open and
all mine for the taking.

  I’ll give her everything she needs, but I will take everything and ensure that she is dependent on me in every way when I am done.

  Shaw Mallory is mine, and I will never let her go.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Shaw

  “Yes, Mr. Trask. I understand, sir. Thank you so much for calling me. No. I completely understand. These things happen,” I say hollowly, disconnecting the call before the tears I feel brewing can slip out or choke me.

  I hate Cameron so much right now that it’s all I can do not to start screaming and stamping my feet in outrage. He did it. He really did it. Trask called today and very apologetically informed me that the position I was being offered back was filled and that someone had made a mistake.

  There was no mistake, and we both know it. The only mistake around here is the fact that I’d foolishly believed Cameron was incapable of the things he’d yelled at me last night.

  I didn’t want to believe that he would do it, that he’d callously and ruthlessly crush all my dreams, just because I’d refused his pathetic attempt at a proposal.

  I mean, really, as if he couldn’t have just thrown an “I do care for you” in there somewhere? And don’t even get me started on the way I feel, knowing that the asshat still doesn’t believe me about the baby!

  I refuse to marry a man who thinks I’d spread my legs for a guy and then try to pawn my kid off on the highest bidder. Robert was no angel, but fuck, at least he gave so little of a shit that he would never dream of fucking up my career to keep me.

  “Ducky dear, whatever is the matter?”

  I look up at Marge, as she comes into the room and gingerly lowers herself to the sofa, her movements cautious and slow.

  “Nothing Marge.” I lie, because I don’t want to hurt her, and in this, Cameron is right. If I tell her I was planning to leave, she’ll have a fit.

  And then she’ll cry, and Vic will go all weird, and I’ll end up apologizing and promising never to move a muscle out of the house. And that would just be right up his freaking alley!