Chapter 35 GETTING BACK AT HER GONE WRONG
CALLUM'S POV
Her tongue pushed into my mouth aggressively, demanding and possessive. She tasted like lipstick and desperation and something artificially sweet that made my stomach turn.
She ground herself down on my lap, rolling her hips, trying to create friction, trying to get me hard.
It wasn't working. Nothing was working. My body refused to respond no matter what she did.
She pulled back and looked at me with frustration written all over her face. "What's wrong with you? Why aren't you responding to me? Am I not pretty enough for you? Am I not doing this right?"
I didn't answer her. Couldn't answer her. My brain was too foggy to form coherent sentences, and even if I could have spoken, what would I have said? That she wasn't Nova? That no amount of grinding or touching or kissing would make me want her because she wasn't the woman I actually wanted?
She reached down between our bodies and grabbed my dick through my pants, stroking it roughly through the fabric, trying to force a physical reaction even if she couldn't get an emotional one.
Still nothing. My body remained stubbornly uninterested.
"Come on, Callum," she breathed, her hand working faster, more desperately. "I know you want this. I know you want me. Just let yourself feel it. Just let yourself have this."
She didn't know anything. She had no idea what I wanted or didn't want. She was just projecting her own desires onto me and hoping something would stick.
She unbuckled my belt with fumbling fingers and unzipped my pants, reaching inside to wrap her hand around me properly, skin against skin.
And I just sat there and let her, because what did it matter? What did any of it matter when Nova was with Matthias Hale? What did anything matter anymore?
Vanessa stroked me harder, faster, her other hand braced on my shoulder for leverage. She was breathing hard now, her face flushed with exertion and arousal, her eyes dark with lust that I didn't share.
"That's it," she moaned, like my body was actually responding to her. "God, you feel so good in my hand. I knew you wanted me. I knew it."
She leaned down and kissed me again, her tongue demanding and possessive as it pushed into my mouth, while her hand continued its work between us.
I felt my body starting to respond despite my complete lack of interest or desire. Just basic physical mechanics, nothing to do with actual want. Just blood flow and nerve endings and involuntary reactions that meant absolutely nothing.
She felt the change and made a triumphant sound deep in her throat, like she had won some kind of victory.
"There you are," she breathed against my lips. "I knew I could make you want me. I knew I just had to be patient."
She shifted her weight on my lap, reaching down with her free hand to pull her panties to the side.
She positioned herself carefully, getting ready to sink down onto me, to take what she wanted whether I was actually participating or not.
And that was when the office door opened.
The sound cut through my Absinthe-soaked haze like a knife, sharp and sudden and impossible to ignore.
I looked up and everything came into sharp, brutal focus all at once. The fog in my brain cleared instantly, blown away by a rush of adrenaline and horror.
Nova stood in the doorway, frozen in place, her eyes wide with shock as she took in the scene in front of her.
Me in my desk chair with my shirt hanging open and my pants unzipped. Vanessa straddling my lap with her dress hiked up around her waist and her hand wrapped around my dick.
The look on Nova's face sobered me up faster than any amount of coffee or cold water or time ever could have.
Pain. Betrayal. Heartbreak. Devastation.
All of it written clearly across her features for just a split second before she schooled her expression into something blank and carefully neutral.
"I'm sorry," she said, and her voice was tight and controlled and completely devoid of emotion. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I just needed to give you this report for tomorrow's meeting."
She dropped a file folder on the nearest chair with shaking hands, and I could see the tremor in her fingers even from across the room.
"Nova—" I started to say, my voice hoarse and desperate, but she was already turning away from me.
"I'll just... I'll leave this here for you. Sorry again for interrupting."
She walked out quickly, her steps measured and careful like she was concentrating very hard on putting one foot in front of the other.
She pulled the door closed behind her with a soft click that sounded impossibly loud in the sudden silence.
The second she was gone, clarity came crashing back into me like a tidal wave, cold and brutal and unforgiving.
What the fuck had I just done?
I pushed Vanessa off my lap roughly, with more force than was probably necessary.
She stumbled backward with a startled yelp as I stood up so fast that the room spun violently and I had to grab the edge of my desk to keep from falling over.
My hands went to my pants immediately, zipping them up with fumbling fingers, fixing my belt, trying to make myself look like less of a disaster.
"Callum, what—" Vanessa started to say, confusion