Page 49 of Power

“I would agree wholeheartedly,” I said, quickly glancing at Cali. She was clearly enjoying the conversation, smiling mischievously to herself. “But I’m available should she require assistance at any time.”

“You really are the perfect choice if you understand that,” Laya observed.

Under the table, Cali grabbed my hand and squeezed, the feel of her bare skin against mine sending my cock twitching and throbbing all over again.

I couldn’t wait to get her alone.

But hours later, after everyone had gone to bed and the house had fallen dark and quiet, the disappointment I felt that I hadn’t been able to do that without being completely obvious was hanging over me.

Lying in the dark guest bedroom, I longed to feel her against me again. Her beauty was unsurpassed, her sensuality unmatched by any previous lover. She left me beyond satisfied and in a state of constant hunger, the contradiction of the state of my body keeping me unsettled.

Soon, she’d be in my bed every single day.

I wondered if the intensity of my passion for her would wane after she was readily available to me. I suspected with a delicious dread that it would only further fuel my desire.

My hunger for Calista was going to kill me.

But oh, what a way to go. I chuckled to myself as I heard a knocking sound coming from the wall behind the fireplace in the corner.

Quickly, I grabbed my gun, alarm rushing through my veins in an instant. As the head of a syndicate, I was always on the verge of awareness, and this was why. My enemies could strike without any notice at all, at my most vulnerable moment.

That was why vulnerability wasn’t an option for me.

Ever.

When the panel beside the fireplace creaked as it swung inward, my finger snapped onto the trigger on instinct.

My breath caught in my throat. A pale rush of hair brushed into view, and my heart slammed against my ribs.

When Calista’s face appeared through the narrow opening, my jaw dropped.

“Cali!” I cried.

She lifted her hands as if in surrender before dropping them with a smirk. “Easy there, Rambo. It’s only me.”

My pulse throbbed in my temples as I eased off the trigger, engaging the safety with a soft click, then laid the gun on the nightstand.

Flames flickered across her skin as I turned back to her, still unsettled with shock.

“Relax,” she said, fully entering the room.

The faint sound of her bare feet touching the rug heightened my senses.

“Obviously, I’m not a threat.”

“It’ll take a minute for my heart to stop racing,” I admitted, running a hand through my hair.

Her chin lifted, defiant and sly.

“Let’s get it going faster,” she said. “Undress me.”

Her demand made my cock spring to attention.

I wanted—needed—to taste her again, to chase her curves with my hands. But after a few weeks of letting her lead, the urge to take control flared. I closed the distance.

She stared up at me, her deliciously puffy lips enticing me. The room was dimly lit, the glow from a single candle casting flickering shadows against the walls and bathing her beautiful skin in an eerie glow.

“Undress me first,” I demanded.

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