Page 48 of Red Flagged
“Where do you come up with this shit?” I wondered before turning my eyes back to Callum, who hadn’t moved. Progress, I guess. A good sign that this dress would suffice.
He stood braced against the counter, his knuckles white, gaze tracking every inch of me—down, then up again, slower this time. Reverent. Hungry. And then, “Turn around.”
I did. I obeyed because I was born to heed his every command. Barefoot on the rug, back straight, heart hammering. I turned slowly.
He exhaled. It was the kind of sound he made when his mouth was on my skin and his hand wrapped around my throat. Reverent and ruined. Exactly how I loved him.
“That’s the one.”
Simple. Absolute.
I bit my lip.
Ivy’s eyes were as wide as saucers. Marco stared like he’d seen a ghost. Kimi had buried his face in his hands.
They didn’t exist in that moment, because Callum was now quiet and controlled. He walked toward me like he was stalking prey. I smiled, slow and wicked and all for him.
“What?” I teased. “Too much?”
He didn’t answer, didn’t have to. He cupped my jaw with one hand, thumb brushing just under my cheekbone, nose brushing mine.
“I can’t promise you’ll make it through dinner,” he whispered, softly enough that only I could hear. “You look perfect. As usual.”
My knees nearly gave out.
“And if you torture me much longer…” His other hand ghosted over the knot at my waist. “I’ll untie this myself.”
I rolled my lips together, fighting a cocky smirk. “Then you better pray I don’t make you beg for it in front of everyone.”Then I turned around and fled back to the bedroom before I forgot we had a dinner to attend.
The whiskey didn’t help.
It was good whiskey—warm, sharp, expensive—but it didn’t do a damn thing to calm the thoughts clawing their way through my skull.
Ivy was sipping some blood orange Aperol spritz she’d insisted on modifying with a lime instead of the usual orange slice because she “wasn’t a peasant”. Kimi and Marco were passionately debating the correct gin-to-tonic ratio like it was a moral issue. Aurélie had a tall glass of water in one hand and the corner of her mouth tucked up like she was trying not to smile. I’d taken my muscle relaxer an hour earlier, but now I was wishing I’d taken a second.
Because she was still in that dress. The safest of all the options, and yet it had done nothing to quell this uncontrollable desire racing through me. Like what had happened between uslast night had unlocked something in me that had been dormant. This bone-aching arousal and soul-deep possession.
And of all things, she was inblack.Not navy and gold like her Luminis attire. Not white or pale pink or anything sweet and girlish that matched her press persona. No. This was dangerous. This was don’t-fuck-with-me couture. That plunging neckline, the twisted waist that accentuated every inch of her. The way the hem rode up and the slit parted just enough when she crossed one leg over the other. Her bare thighs pressed together, muscles taut. She looked like something off aVanity Faircover and out of a goddamn wet dream at the same time.
And it was getting to me.
She was chaos wrapped in whatever the fuck that soft fabric was. This wasn’t the version the cameras got, the one the sponsors could sell. This was for us. Forme. For whoever she decided was lucky enough to see it. And I was seconds away from dragging her back to the bedroom and undoing the knot on that dress with my teeth.
“—so I said if you don’t want your nuts scraped off like cheese on a grater, don’t comment on my tits like that again,” Ivy declared, swirling her drink as if she was some kind of mob wife.
I blinked, dragging my attention back to the room. Aurélie eyed my drink closely, likely calculating how much I was consuming. I wanted to assure her I’d learned my lesson when she snatched my sake from me and scolded me for mixing prescription pills with alcohol. But I was only on one now, and the dosage was lower, and I think that knowledge alone gave her some peace of mind.
Marco was sprawled on the couch like he lived here, shoveling trail mix into his mouth by the fistful. “Can’t believe that’s a real sentence you said to an actual billionaire,” he said. “God, I missed you.”
Ivy gave him a smug little smile. He gave her one back, and I glanced at Aurélie just in time to catch her biting back a grin. We knew what that look meant. She glanced at Marco, then back at me, lips twitching with something warm and knowing. I matched it, because yeah, I saw it too. That look between them that basically confirmed everything she and I talked about earlier.
“Technically,” Kimi cut in from the desk without looking up from his phone, “he’s only a billionaire if you include crypto. Which I don’t.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re pretty close though,” Ivy added, eyes sliding to me. “Right, Fraser?”
“Am not,” I muttered, frowning down at my glass. I hadn’t poured much because of my meds, but suddenly I wished there was more.
“An eight-hundred million dollar net worth doesn’t count as close?”
