"But I like older men," she persisted with a pout that he was sure some men would find adorable, regardless of her age.
A disgusted sound from the woman he wanted to spend time with had him tugging Callie closer. Deftly sliding one arm around her waist, he pulled the designer possessively against his side and his cock once again rose to the occasion. "Then go find one who's interested," he replied bluntly and finally managed to disentangle himself from her clutches.
Before the young woman could respond, he hustled his date out of the room and down a hallway. "You should have bid on her," Callie said with enough bite that he could have sworn the comment stemmed from jealousy. It had to be wishful thinking on his part because the sexy as fuck designer managed to twist free of his hold again.
"Why the hell would I want an immature child when I can have you?" He queried huskily.
"They're easier to manipulate," she snapped back, disdain written all over her beautiful face. "And you don't have me."
"I'm beginning to get the feeling that you don't like me," Ford said in amusement as he snagged her hand in his again. The need to touch her, hold her, was simply too strong to resist. His thumb gently caressed her wrist and her rapidly racing pulse elated him. Her body couldn't lie about its reaction to his touch. Callie wanted him. Thank God, because he was desperate for her. "Care to tell me why?"
Her bitter laugh surprised him almost as much as her reply. "Because I know what a heartless bastard you are."
Provoked, he backed her against the wall and caged her to it by placing his palms flat on both sides of her head, his chest pressed to hers. Her breath hitched; those impossibly deep amethyst eyes grew even larger as he closed the distance between them. He lowered his head until his mouth was just a breath away from hers. Close enough to taste.
Fuck.
He wanted to take her just like this. Hard and fast against the wall. His hardened cock swelled even more at the mental imagery. "The first time I ever saw you, you were wearing a sexy as fuck peacock costume," he murmured silkily and saw her eyes widen as her mouth dropped open.
If only she were on her knees.
With his cock between her lips.
Fuuucck.
Swallowing a groan of raw need, he whispered seductively, "You mesmerized me, Callie. All I can think about is worshiping every inch of your body. Fucking you like you've never been fucked before." His right hand lowered, fingertips trailing sensuously over the warm silken skin of her bare shoulder. "You haunt my dreams."
"I hope they're nightmares," Callie spat venomously before she placed her hands against his chest and forcefully shoved him away.
Stunned by her vehemence, he let her escape instead of demanding an explanation. As he watched her walk away, he wondered what the hell he'd done to garner such an intense reaction from a complete stranger. Other than the two occasions when he'd tried to introduce himself, they'd never even met.
Maybe he'd dated one of her friends and things had ended badly. There had been a few women over the years who hadn't handled his loss of interest all that well so it was plausible, though not likely. As evidenced in the lounge a few minutes ago, the majority of his former lovers were eager for another chance.
Perhaps it had something to do with business. His, not hers. Ford didn't know a damn thing about the fashion industry other than what looked good on a woman. What he did know was that Callie was an amazing designer if the sexy as fuck clothing she wore was an indicator. Then again, she'd make a burlap sack look good.
So, what the hell could it be? As far as he knew, she had no interest in any of his ventures. Even if she did, business was good and none of his clients had a problem with the way he handled things. Besides, Callie's issue with him seemed to be personal. But, why? What could he have done to cause her disdain for him?
Whatever it was, he was determined to correct it. He'd do whatever it took to rectify the situation if it meant getting closer to her. Preferably in the biblical sense. Since the first time he'd laid eyes on Callie Rose, her tall, curvaceous body had filled him with a hunger no other woman had ever been able to inspire.
Or compete with.
For the last year, she had held the starring role in his dreams. Dreams so erotic that he'd wake in a pool of sweat, with his cock so hard it was painful to touch. Dreams so vivid and realistic that he actually expected to find her lying beside him, sated and spent, staring back at him through slumberous eyes.
But as much as Ford lusted for her delectable body, it was her eyes that haunted him. At their first meeting, the deep amethyst orbs had revealed a depth of vulnerability that had reached inside and squeezed his heart. One look into them and he'd wanted to wrap her securely in his arms and protect her from everything.
Unfortunately, the lovely lady hadn't been as taken with him. Before he'd had the chance to introduce himself, she'd hightailed it out of the room as if her hot little ass were on fire. Once he'd discovered who the woman in the peacock costume had been, he'd done a bit of cyberstalking to find out everything he could about her.
What he'd learned about the mystery lady had only intrigued him more. Not only was she a much sought after fashion designer, Callie was also considered a bit of a recluse. Other than her fashion shows, she rarely made public appearances, and when she did, she was always accompanied by her business partner.
Bastion Baines was very protective of her, and if his menacing expression didn't keep unwanted attention at bay, his ruthless reputation did. When he'd contrived to meet Callie a second time, the lady had run from him again, but her partner had not. Baines had the balls to warn Ford off, not that it had deterred him in the least.
Because she had become his obsession.
Now that he had a date with her, it was the perfect opportunity to finally put an end to those damnable dreams by making them a reality. But first, he needed to determine why Callie despised him. He'd waited too long to have her to let anything stand in his way. A rueful smile curved his lips at the direction his thoughts had taken.
No one would believe that the infamous playboy was chasing a woman who'd rejected him. The very idea would be laughable with anyone else, but not with Callie. The power she held over him was damned unsettling. And intriguing. It was just too bad for her that he loved a challenge. A wicked smile curved his lips.
Game on, baby.
Game. On!
Callie
"Youse okay, Miz Cal-lee?" Bruno's deep voice asked as she burst through Opulent ballroom's rear entrance in a mad dash. The familiarity of her driver's massive frame and Bronx accent was a comforting balm to her frazzled nerves. Technically he was Bastion's driver, but since her partner was rarely in New York, Bruno, and the car had become hers by default.
"Yes. I'm fine, Bruno," she managed shakily.
"Youse sure 'bout that?" He queried doubtfully, a frown marring his concerned expression as he shot a suspicious glare toward the door she had exited. "Mr. Baines texted me that some guy might be hasslin' youse so I should dispose of him."
God, she didn't even want to know what he meant by dispose of. Given Bastion's reputation, it could mean killing someone. Then again, Bruno had a habit of butchering the English language so it could just as easily have been an innocent comment. In this instance, she'd much prefer the former to the latter. Especially if he included his employer's body into the equation.