Page 75 of Last Resort

“You’re not going. How’s that for an answer?”

“Why not? Because you know what you think when you walk into a club? The things you want to do to the woman you set your sights on and the end result you’re aiming for?” She lifts her eyebrows and chuckles. “I’m off the clock, Sharpe. And when I’m off the clock, you don’t get to say what I can or can’t do.”

Motherfucker.

She’s going anyway. She’s going and every man in that place is going to want what I can’t have.

Can I hope she kept at least one pair of granny panties and she’s chosen to wear them tonight? Can I at least have that?

But one more look at her tiny, tight skirt and I know there is no way in hell she has them on.

Christ. At this moment, I’m just praying she came to her senses and has something on underneath.

“You’re wondering, aren’t you?” she asks with a smirk, her gaze following mine, which clearly isn’t hiding my thoughts.

“I gave them back to you.”

“You did. I’ll grant you that, but I also told you I wasn’t going to wear them simply to drive you crazy.”

“Sutton,” I growl, my jaw clenched in frustration.

“Do I, or don’t I? That’s the big question.”

“This isn’t funny.” I reach out to touch her and she takes a step back, one eyebrow quirked and her eyes darting around to see if anyone is paying attention.

“This thing you’re feeling? It’s called sexual frustration, Callahan. It manifests itself in sudden outbursts or claims over a person when you have no right making them.” She steps into me and whispers, “It’s also hot as fucking hell. See you later.”

She holds her hand up and wiggles her fingers in a wave as she starts to walk away.

“A date.”

Why didn’t I think of that sooner?

“What?” She looks over her shoulder.

“A date. That’s the answer, right? You want the wine and dine before the sixty-nine part?”

“That never hurts—making the woman feel like more than just your fuck toy is always a good thing, but sorry, it’s not the answer. You might need to take care of that inside.” She motions to my semi pressing against the seam of my pants. “Don’t wait up.”

And then she turns on her heel and walks into the darkness.

Oh yeah, she’s definitely playing with fire.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Sutton

Clubs have never been my scene.

Sure, I went with Lizzy that fated night because I just needed to feel alive—and boy did he make me feel alive. And now, if I’m honest with myself, I’m here because the last thing I’m going to do is let Callahan tell me what I can and can’t do. Not after he’s been ignoring me—which hello? Why is he? Because we actually talked? Because our kissing felt way more intimate than anything we’ve done before?

And especially not after him pulling the Neanderthal role earlier.

That, and I have a feeling he’ll show up here too.

A man as possessive and demanding as he is won’t be thrilled that I’m here alone. Especially not when he was what happened to me the last time I was in the same position.

I bet he’s pacing back and forth at the villa.