I wake to the sound of the shower running. I never heard Callan return last night, so I’m not sure he even did. I touch his side of the bed and find it’s cold. Has he been up all night? I walk to the en-suite, finding him standing under the spray. I move behind the glass and see all the marks marring his skin, scratches from me.
“It’s a good job that I know you're there. I could have shot you,” he quips in warning.
“Like you bring a gun in the—” He lifts his hand, revealing his gun. “Oh.”
“Join me.” Such a simple command, and yet my heart picks up. I move in fully and lift my face to the spray. The water pummels my skin, and after our sex marathon, it feels good. “You’re pretty bruised, Zara, perhaps you should cancel your shoot.”
“Did you forgo work because I scratched you up?” I say, flicking a look up at him, and he grins down at me.
“No, although you have most of my members at Skyn aimlessly searching for the woman who shed my blood.” His neck is littered in dark red marks.
“I thought you were at Hex?” I say, shampooing my hair. Wasn’t that where he was when we Facetimed? Is that why he didn't come home? Was he telling the truth when he said it was just me he is involved with?
“You know we’re not exclusive, right?” he says, and I go stone cold. My hands stop what they're doing, and I stare at the marbled wall in fury. He was out fucking another woman. I turn slowly and glare at him.
“I do know that, Callan, but we’re not using protection, and you may be more than happy to herpy it up, but I’m not!” I impart icily.
“I’m only fucking you.” He laughs, his big chest vibrating. He smirks at me and steps out of the shower.
“So why goad me, then?” I huff, trying to cool my yo-yo temper—a temper he seems to have invisible control of.
“Because jealous you is sexy. It’s never been a secret that I own Skyn or that I frequent there,” he states calmly. Frequent as in for pleasure and not just business? I catch sight of another smirk.
“You're trying to goad me again, but I know you don't fraternise with the women there and anyway, they all know your rules,” I announce, enjoying his frown. I turn my back on him. Ha, take that! Well, apart from Katryna, the psycho.
A swift palm hits my arse, making me yelp.
“The women don't know my rules. I’ve never discussed it with them,” he gloats.
“Maybe not, but one of them overheard you propositioning a woman and giving her your one night, no kiss, fuck fest rule,” I tell him, enjoying how his brows pull with surprise. He recovers quickly, probably filing it away for future use.
“Fuck fest. For a shy thing, you have a filthy mouth.” Thick arms wrap around my waist. “Plus, I fuck and flee,” he admits on a laugh, “fuck fests are reserved for yours truly.” He nips my shoulder. “What else did the women say?” he wonders.
“I don’t know. They blabbed to Oscar, not me. He never uttered your name until I came into the club.”
“Seems he can’t keep it shut now,” he grumbles.
“Yourwomenblabbed first.”
“Yes, well, they will be reprimanded. They know not to discuss me ever.” He can’t be for real.
“Callan, you're their boss. Of course they will talk about you with each other, and if you have forgotten, Oscar worked for you not that long ago. It's a discussion between employees, not employees to public,”I say, washing myself quickly and turning the water off.
“This conversation feels too domesticated,” he mutters, handing me a towel.
I laugh, sneaking a look at his nakedness behind my dripping hair. “Well, I can always go home.” I smirk at him and pull the towel around my body.
“You're a real comedian,” he retorts, leaving the en-suite and allowing me the privacy I need to pee.
Chapter Twenty
It doesn’t take the papers long to share pictures of Callan and me leaving Nexo. The headline ‘Model Mystery’ is printed in large font, and below the caption continues:
London’s top model may finally be off the market. Zara Reid was seen leaving Nexo with mysterious nightclub owner Callan Scott. Scott, who looks more like a security guard, was seen yesterday escorting Miss Reid from his high-rise bar in the early evening. A witness says Mr Scott was very tactile with the model, and the pair were seen leaving together. A source confirms Miss Reid met with the owner to look at possible venues for her closest friend, Oscar Winters’, upcoming birthday. Winters can often be found perusing high-end boutiques, bars, oronZara’s arm. He is the most attractive accessory a girl could have. No further sightings have been noted.
My phone rings minutes after I receive the news notification. Miranda’s name flashes, and I suck in a breath, waiting for her to have a minor meltdown.
“It’s not what it looks like,” I tell her, picking at some fruit in front of me.