Yes, darling. I own you. Knowing that made him pleased more than he’d ever felt when he’d brought a submissive to the club. Tonight he’d take her home and prove that. He would strip her bare without a care for her shyness since he’d have her all to himself.
You are mine.
Chapter 25
Well, well,” an acidic feminine voice said, cutting through Callie’s conversation with Katrina.
“Uh-oh, bitch alert,” Katrina muttered.
When Callie glanced over her shoulder, she winced. Corrine was standing there, in a knockout lacy lingerie outfit. Her long skinny legs went on for miles and she could have been a supermodel, except for the sour look on her face.
“Get lost, kitty cat,” Corrine spat. “I have to talk to Wes’s new toy.”
Fury sparked the tinder inside Callie but she held off reacting. This was Wes’s world and she didn’t want to embarrass him. But she still needed to deal with this woman. Her bullying couldn’t go on forever.
“It’s fine, Katrina. Please tell Royce I’ll be back in a moment.”
“Okay.” Katrina touched her shoulder in a silent show of support.
Corrine seemed to wait for Katrina to be out of earshot before she went into her verbal assault.
“How does it feel, Callie?” She emphasized her name like it was a bad taste. “He brought you into my world, where he fucked me for months. Did he tell you? He screwed me on every flat surface in this club. I was here first. It’s my territory. You are just a sad, sorry replacement.” She glanced around with a cruel smile. “The doms are already betting on how long it takes him to tire of you. I’m betting a few weeks. You can’t give him what he needs.” Corrine placed perfectly manicured hands with bloodred nails on her hips as she swept her gaze over the room.
“You are nothing but a temporary amusement. You weren’t the first little innocent creature he’s brought here and you won’t be the last.”
Callie was so furious that she acted before she could think. Gripping her glass of water she tossed it right in Corrine’s face. She let out an earsplitting shriek and lunged for Callie, but suddenly Stephen Vain was there, dragging Corrine away.
“Enough!” Vain snarled and shoved Corrine back and held up a warning hand. “Go back to your master and tell him you deserve ten lashings at the St. Andrew’s Cross.”
Corrine hissed like a wet alley cat, stalked away, dripping water behind her.
“Oh God.” Callie was torn between mortification and the desire to laugh. “I shouldn’t have done that, but she’s—”
“A crazy bitch.” Vain’s raspy chuckle put her at ease.
“Yes, exactly.” Callie sighed in relief. Maybe that was the worst that could happen tonight. She’d faced Corrine and survived.
“Having a good time so far?” Vain asked.
She nodded. “Yes. Oh yes, sir!” She had completely forgotten she was talking to a dom.
He waved a hand. “It’s fine. I’m not that strict. Here, let me get you a new drink, something a little stronger than water. You’ll need it if she decides to come back later when I’m not around.” He leaned over the bar and grabbed one of the bottles of scotch and an empty glass.
“Thank you, sir.” Callie turned her focus back to the room, watching the doms and subs curiously while Vain prepared her a drink.
“Here, drink it up.” He pressed a glass with amber liquid in it into her hand.
She raised it to her lips and downed the whole glass. Then coughed. The drink burned like fire.
“Whoa, easy.” He patted her back.
“Sorry.” She gasped and set the glass on the counter.
“A beautiful woman should never apologize.” He chuckled and walked away.
Callie left the bar and headed back to Katrina and Royce.
“Hanging in there, little cowgirl?” Royce teased. He had put Katrina on his lap and she was kissing his neck and licking his ear. Royce groaned and palmed Katrina’s ass.
Callie ducked her head, too embarrassed to look. She was a little tired and wanted Wes to come back. She knew he was busy keeping his eye on the Monet, though, the real reason they were there tonight.
“Feeling tired?” Royce asked her.
“Yeah, I guess it’s been a long day. Do you think Wes would get mad if I just took a quick nap here on the couch?” She tucked her knees up and curled into the soft, warm sofa cushions.
“No, he won’t. Go ahead, I’ll keep an eye on you,” Royce promised.
“Thanks.” She folded her arms on the armrest and then put her chin on her arms and closed her eyes. Just a short nap, that’s all she needed…
She sensed him before she heard him. The warm breath on her face and the heat of his body as he leaned over her. It was a struggle to open her eyes. She was still tired, but his voice stirred her awake. Her skin tingled where he touched her, his palm brushing her hair as he whispered her name.
“Callie, darling, time to wake up.” Wes stroked a hand over her hair.
“What? How long was I asleep?” She blinked rapidly, slowly trying to bring Wes into focus. Her stomach gave a strange little twist, almost like a cramp, and her head felt a little fuzzy.
Wes was leaning over her. He’d removed his suit coat and his sleeves were rolled up. Her throat went dry and a pulse began to beat between her thighs. He looked sexy as hell and seeing him so informal only reminded her of the pleasure in his arms. Wes was an addiction, one that would never be cured.
“You’ve been asleep for an hour. Royce didn’t want to wake you. The club is closing soon.”
Brushing her hair back from her face, she sighed. “I’m sorry, Wes.” When she sat up, the world spun around her in dizzying circles.
“Are you okay?” He picked her up off the couch and set her on her feet. That only made it worse. Everything spun around her even faster and a wave of nausea made her buckle over.
“Wes…I don’t feel so good.” She clutched at her stomach, moaning. Everything seemed to be spinning and she couldn’t catch her breath.
“You have had a stressful day. Let me take you home.” He caught her behind her knees and back to lift her into the cradle of his arms.
The jarring movement of his steps made her sick, so she closed her eyes again, hoping to quell the sudden sickness. Her blood pounded hard in her ears and the entire world swayed around her like she was the one off balance. It was hard to think. Panic swept through her as she fought to stay awake.
“Just rest.” Wes’s distant voice came to her through a dark tunnel thick with fog.
“Wes, I can’t…move.” The last word was barely a whisper, one she could barely breathe. He hadn’t heard her. She was…fading into darkness.
* * *
The tires of the Hennessey Venom GT screeched to a halt inside his garage as Wes threw the car into park and launched himself out of the driver’s side. He shouted for his butler as he wrenched the passenger-side door open and bent over Callie. She was unconscious and had been for a while—how long, he wasn’t sure. Her exhaustion and disorientation in the club were a warning he’d almost ignored. When she’d passed out completely in the car and became unresponsive, his trepidation had increased.
Arms around her limp body, he lifted her into his embrace and called for Bradley again, his voice ragged as he clutched her tighter to him. His legs moved of their own volition until he found himself in the room they’d made love in earlier that week. The warmth of that memory was overridden by a blind panic he couldn’t quell.
Callie didn’t stir as he carried her. No murmur from her soft lips to tell him she was still here, still with him—just silence that was swallowed by a wave of pure fear.
“Bradley!” he shouted. His butler didn’t answer. That was unusual. Where the fuck was Bradley? He had the uncanny ability of always being present whenever Wes came home, but not tonight.