Arranged(59)

Calder didn’t excuse me. Instead he followed me. It was a very small space. He moved into a corner and folded his arms over his chest, dominating it.

“You enjoy wrapping everyone around your finger, don’t you?” he asked as I was pulling a shirt on.

I studied him. He had that certain look about him, like he wanted to fuck me and strangle me all at once. He wore it well.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I finally responded as I bent down to slip on my shoes.

“Oh yes you do. You had your ex drooling over you at the same time you had me dropping everything and rushing hell-bent across town. All exactly what you intended. Tell me, has a man ever not done exactly what you wanted him to?”

I straightened. I didn’t know where to even start in responding to everything incorrect he’d said. I singled out the strangest one. “My ex?” I asked.

His nostrils flared. I wanted to climb him right there and then. “Are you going to try to tell me you and that guy don’t have some sort of history? An ‘old friend?’ What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means we’ve known each other for a long time,” I said slowly, like I was speaking to a crazy person. “I never dated Tommy.”

He looked like the he was struggling to swallow something for a good thirty seconds before he spoke again. “Did you date a lot of male models? That’s a thing, right? You’re all pretty and you date each other.”

I had to swallow a smile before I spoke. “No. I’ve never dated a male model.”

“So what kind of guy did you date?”

“I didn’t date.”

“You never had a boyfriend before?” Disbelief underscored each word.

I shrugged. “I had other priorities.”

“Wait.” He shook his head. He looked fascinated in spite of himself. He took a step toward me. “Are you saying that you never went on even one date before our wedding?”

I shrugged again. I was blushing. It was an embarrassing topic. “I had other things on my mind.”

“Wait. Wait.” He stepped closer, crowding me. “Are you saying that you’d never even been kissed before me?” he asked, voice pitched low.

I shook my head slightly, tearing my eyes up to his. “Is it so hard to believe?”

He didn’t answer that. He was breathing hard, almost a pant. “Are you done for the day?”

I nodded.

“Let’s go home.” It came out as a husky purr.

My knees went weak.

He didn’t touch me even once until we were alone in my apartment. The second the door closed he grabbed my arm, tugging me through to my bedroom and into my bathroom. He grabbed my toothbrush, dabbing paste onto it.

“I told you to call me Banks,” he said out of nowhere. It burst out, like it had been eating at him. “You keep calling me Calder. Stop doing that.”

“You told me to call you Calder at our wedding,” I responded, scrutinizing his expression. “Why did you change your mind?”

He didn’t answer. Instead he gripped my jaw and started to gently brush my teeth, the weirdo.

“I can’t believe you kissed him,” he said, a ragged edge to his voice I hadn’t heard before.

“He kissed me, and barely,” I said after he finally let me spit. My eyes met his in the mirror. He was standing very close behind me. “And it didn’t count. It was just for the shoot.”

His answer was to fist a hand into my hair and pull my head back. “It fucking counted. Don’t do that again.”

He turned me around and kissed me. On the lips. And kissed and kissed.

He’d never kissed me on the mouth in private. He’d only ever done it in public. For show.

Whatever this was, it wasn’t for show. It was for us alone. It was blood-pumping, heart-shattering.

Tangible. It was real.

He kissed me deeply, with barely suppressed ferocity. I felt myself melt against him. I held onto his shirt and accepted his plush, decadent tongue as it plunged between my lips. His mouth fucked my mouth, and it was all I could do to hold myself upright.

He felt my knees buckle and took my weight, lifting me and carrying me into the bedroom and onto my bed. His mouth never left mine. The man didn’t do half-assed. Now that he’d decided to kiss me, he kissed me silly.

He undressed us both slowly, breaking our lip lock only when he had to. He kissed me while he pumped in and out. When I gasped into his mouth, starting to come, he pulled back. His eyes captured mine while he followed me. An intimate connection passed between us, something undeniable and palpable and impossible to ever take back.

“Is it always like this, or is this something out of the ordinary?” The words just came out after, and I instantly wanted to snatch them back.

His gaze was shuddered in a flash, his eyes cold.

I felt my whole face flushing with mortification. I tried to backtrack. “I’m just inexperienced, I suppose. I don’t know why I said that. Sex is probably like this with everyone . . .”

It came out of him with obvious reluctance. “No, this isn’t normal,” he said begrudgingly, not looking at me. “Nothing about this is normal. This is some sort of strange . . . chemistry. . . I’ve never dealt with before either, okay?”

“Okay,” I said softly.