Page 23

Chapter 23

Lose control

Callie

I didn’t have to cross swords with Pierce at the rehearsal. Since I wasn’t in the wedding party, I just sat in the back of the church while they went through the complicated movements that made up the wedding service. My gaze lingered on Cooper, noticing the stiffness of his posture and the superficiality of his smiles. I couldn’t hear what his relatives said to him, but I could see how they ate away at his confidence.

Fuckers.

Sitting there through endless repeats, I considered the whole exercise. I doubted I’d ever get married. That would involve a level of trust I’d never imagined happening. If I did, it wasn’t going to be like this. Too much stress.

A man sat down in the pew beside me. I turned a startled glance and recognized Remington Winthrop. Just what I needed—more assholes.

“Do I know you?” He leaned back, one ankle crossed over the other knee, perfectly at ease.

“I met you at Briarwood in Toronto. I was golfing with Cooper.”

He raised a brow. “Cooper? Oh, Whit.”

I didn’t reply. They could argue over names if they wanted.

“That’s right, I remember now. So you’re here with Whit for the wedding? You his girlfriend?” His eyes dropped to my chest, then my legs, and finally back up.

“We’re friends.” Last night notwithstanding.

“What’s your name again? And how did you meet Whit?”

I could challenge his right to interrogate me, but I didn’t want to embarrass Cooper. “Callie Smith. I met him at a charity dinner my firm was involved with.”

His eyebrow rose. “What firm is that?”

“Anderson, Krys and Chan.”

Both eyebrows were rushing for his hairline. Just like the Cooper family, he’d heard of the firm, which made sense if he was doing business in Toronto.

“Paralegal?”

Right. Because I had big boobs. None of the paralegals had been invited to the dinner. “Tax attorney.”

His brows couldn’t get any higher, but they tried. “Really? That’s impressive.”

The easy explanation for this chauvinism was that the idea of a female lawyer disconcerted him, but I was sure the real reason was because I was with Cooper. “It does seem to surprise everyone I meet here. I should have brought my diploma. Or a pay stub.”

He laughed. “We’re just more surprised that you’re with Cooper, if you’re that smart.”

“Why?”

Winthrop tugged on his ankle. “He’s a hockey player.”

“Apparently they have hockey players at Harvard. I don’t think stupidity is required to play the sport.”

“But it helps,” he said with another laugh.

I didn’t join him.

He smirked. “Oh, is that it? You want to become Mrs. Cooper? He must be bringing in the cash—maybe you’d like to do something a little easier than tax for the rest of your life?”

I imagined slapping his ridiculous face, and it was incredibly satisfying. It had been years since I’d had those urges. This wedding was bringing them out. But again, I let the insult go. I couldn’t imagine it helping Cooper, and I kept my eye on the prize. I didn’t need to antagonize these people who knew the firm I worked for. They might have influence. “I enjoy my work, and I’m not looking for anyone to support me. But since personal questions are so popular, what about you? Looking to marry someone with a lot of money and spend your time on the golf course?”

He didn’t fall for the diversion. “You’re protective of him.”

“I said he was a friend. I don’t call many people that, and I don’t take friendship lightly.”

“Maybe you should open up to the possibilities of more friendships. They might benefit you.” His eyes were on my breasts again and I knew exactly what kind of friendship he was talking about.

“I keep business and my personal life separate. My friends aren’t part of my work life, and my colleagues aren’t friends. It helps to keep the lines clear.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, holding it out to me. “If you change your mind, here’s how to contact me.”

I really didn’t want to take his card, but it would only antagonize him to refuse. I didn’t get one of my cards out though. I didn’t want this man to reach out to me, even for tax advice. I had Benson in my day-to-day life and that was more than enough.

The dinner after the rehearsal was more of the same. I wasn’t sitting with Cooper, again, but neither was I with Pierce or Winthrop so I called it a win. I made laborious conversation with a brother of the groom, a guy who only became animated when he could talk about sailing, and noticed the tension in Cooper’s jaw as he was talked at by…an uncle? Cousin? Some stuffy relation. Like last night.

On the way back to the hotel, I made a suggestion. “Perhaps sex would help you relax?”

He flashed a glance at me. “I’m happy with a repeat, but thought I’d have to convince you. I got through my family’s bullshit by making up a pitch.”

I shrugged. “Good thing you weren’t a disappointment last night.”

He laughed, and some of that tension left his expression.

We were quiet again on the way up to the suite. When we got there, I happily slid my feet out of the expensive shoes and sighed.

“Want a drink?” Cooper asked.

“Water would be great.”

Cooper walked into the kitchen and grabbed a couple of water bottles from the fridge. He passed me one, taking one for himself. Then he leaned over the island and studied me. “Want to hear the sales pitch?”

“Sure. Pitch me.”

“You don’t like losing control. Now, good sex kind of demands losing it, but what if we do this in a way that you have control over me?”

I was intrigued. “How did you imagine that taking place?”

His lips curved up in a dirty grin. “Oh, I imagined a lot of possibilities.”

I shivered, because now I was coming up with some porn-worthy ideas of my own.

“I narrowed it down to something within the bounds of practicality.”

I didn’t put Cooper and sex together in any way that was practical, but I was definitely interested.

“I don’t have any handcuffs or ropes—” He straightened. “But I could sacrifice a tie or two to the cause.”

It took me a minute. “You mean, to tie you up?”

He held up his hand. “Don’t get too excited there. I’m not leaving myself completely at your mercy. But if my hands were tied up, and I lay on the bed while you ran the show…would that give you enough control to enjoy yourself without regretting anything later?”

I sucked in a breath. The man saw too much of me. The wise course would be to stop this before he learned any more. But while we were here, in a different country, teaming up against his family, I could pretend this was an anomaly. Not part of my regular life. And thinking of it, that incredible body laid out on his bed, naked, hands tied and me in control? Too damned bad if it was risky, I wanted it. Enough that my hands were trembling with desire. I wanted it and I was going to take it. “Let’s go.”

Unfortunately, he didn’t move. “That’s a yes?”

“Yes. It’s a yes.”

“And you’re not going to regret it? Because that’s hell on a man’s ego.”

I blinked at him. That was the second time he mentioned my regretting it. Once could be a throwaway, but not twice. Did he think I had regrets?

He shrugged and stood up. “Okay, bedroom.”

“Wait.”

His body froze, eyes meeting mine before skittering over my shoulder. “Changed your mind?”

I shook my head. “No. But so you know, I don’t regret last night.”

Now he met my gaze. “You sure?”

“I hate the thought of stroking your ego. It’s already incredibly inflated. But last time was good. Very good. Top ten good.” Best ever, but I had to save some of myself with this man. “I don’t regret how much I enjoyed myself, but it scares me.”

His confidence was back, and his gaze on me was too perceptive. “What are you afraid of, Callie, if you lose control in my bed?”

A shiver ran down my spine. Something about the way he said those words— lose control in my bed —made a part inside me push to the surface, want to show him how out of control I could be. I was familiar with that part, and it led to bad decisions. I reined it in. “Of doing something incredibly stupid.”

“What stupid thing could you do? Aside from whips and shackles, I’m pretty open when it comes to sex.”

I twisted my lips. “Yeah, well sometimes sex gets mixed up with feelings. I won’t risk that.”

My life had derailed, almost ruining my future, when I thought men fucking me meant they cared for me. My stupid heart opened to them, desperate for affection. I’d learned that they were using me, and I wouldn’t allow that again.

His eyes narrowed. “Do you…want a relationship?”

I snorted. “Please. I’m not that stupid. Neither of us wants that.” Talk about ego. “I mixed up sex and love when I was young. I won’t do it again. But I haven’t let my control go like last night in a long time. It could be a problem.”

He nodded slowly. “Are you afraid you can’t control yourself if we do this again?”

“Maybe last time was a fluke. I’ve been on my own for too long.”

That got to him. “I promise, Callie, that wasn’t a fluke. And cards on the table, I’d like to continue having sex with you while this chemistry thing works. How about we agree to call a halt if either of us starts to feel like this might be more?”

Did he say we because he was being tactful? Was he worried about developing feelings? Not likely. People didn’t fall for me. In any case, some amazing sex was my treat. An indulgence for a brief time. If it started to get out of hand, if feelings got involved, we’d end it. “And this doesn’t affect our agreement?”

A strange look crossed his face but I couldn’t read it. He held up two fingers. “I swear.”

“So, can we get to where I tie you up and use you?”

The familiar confident expression was back on his face. “I’ll do the tying. But yeah, we can see if this works for you.”

“Go get your ties, then. We’ve got work to do.”