The rate for his services was high. His quality was high. His acting skills were good enough that he could be a completely different person, and you'd never know.
However, the role he was least comfortable playing was Oliver.
Oliver Addams was a b...
I have to say, nothing sobers you up quicker than the sight of dead bodies. I feel my stomach turn, and I've never been more grateful that I ate before getting wasted.
I break my silent vow of no eye contact and look over to see Cal sitting there, staring back at me. There is a ghost of a smile on his face. I never used to understand that term, but one look at Cal's face, and no one would doubt the validity of that statement.
"Oh, so you're acknowledging me now? Good to know this shitty treatment is what my fucking money is going toward." One thing that always throws me off is when he says fucking in place of bloody it just always catches me off guard, much like the dock full of corpses before me.
"Why didn't you finish whatever this was first?" I swivel my head back out the window to survey the massacre.
"'Whatever this is' is the only thing keeping Chicago from being overrun by murderers." Ironic that he's claiming he is preventing murders when there is a literal sea of dead bodies surrounding that dock.
"Why did you bring me here, Cal?" I ask this question quietly as I rip my eyes away from the scene before me. My stomach is still doing flips. I bring my gaze up to meet Cal's eyes.
"That's a wonderful question, Oliver." Cal slides closer to me. He gets close enough that if he were to lean over a few inches, his lips would be touching mine. "Maybe I brought you here to scare you. Or perhaps to show you how scared of me you should be." A hand snakes around my waist, and I am pulled taunt against his chest. Cal leans in, close to my ear, "Or, just maybe, I have a thing for fucking my property in front of corspes."
My heart pounds in my chest. I can physically feel the weight of my heartbeat on my tongue. I open and close my mouth, trying desperately to think of something to say.
Cal lets out a breathy laugh. "In reality, darling, I left a Scottish multi-millionaire waiting for me to sign a deal with him. Do you know why I had to leave him, Oliver?"
I stay silent. Cal grabs my hair at the base of my skull and pulls back so that although I am still pressed against him, I am forced to look him in the eyes.
"Do you know why?" The look in his eyes is a mix between pure rage and something else. Something I can't quite place. Sweet Jesus, it's fucking arousal, isn't it? This little murderous dickbag is getting off on the fear coursing through my veins.
"Because you had to come chase me down," I mutter under my breath.
Cal's hand migrates from hair to wrap around my neck, squeezing tight enough to trigger my fight or flight. I grip his thigh tightly in response to him basically choking me. I would be an unreliable narrator if I did not mention that with great shame: I am also a little bit hard from his hand around my throat.
"You had to come, to come and chase me-" A swift, tight squeeze to my neck cut me off.
"That's right. You could have blown a very, very valuable deal for me, darling." Cal loosens his grip on my neck. So that instead of being choked, it's more of a light grasp. Then he continues, "And I don't have to explain to you, of all blokes, the importance of money. So, unless you fancy a hate fuck, you and I are walking in there to close this deal. Oh, and you're going to personally apologize to Mr. Cambell and promise him that this bullshit," he spits the word out like it physically disgusts him, "will never happen again."
"I-" I take a gulp. I don't know if my judgment is clouded by fear or arousal, but I spit out, "I wouldn't mind a hate fuck."
Cal laughs. "It must be sad to be this pent up." Cal grabs my dick and gives it a light squeeze. I whimper. Oh my god, I must still be drunk or some shit because that is the only explanation for me to be this pathetic.
"How about I make you a deal?" While he speaks, Cal rubs light circles over the tip of my dick. This zipper is really pulling its weight, keeping my pants closed. "You do everything that I say in there, and I'll forgive you for that little stunt you pulled. In in return, I will fuck you till the only thing you can think about is how much you want my dick."
"I will," I say, biting down on my lip, trying with all my might not to beg for him to fuck me. Cal removes his hand from my dick and uses it to pat my cheek. "Good boy, Ollie. Go make me proud." My face flushes red.
Cal opens the door, and only then do I finally become aware of the driver in the car. The privacy screen was up, but that doesn't mean he was unaware of what happened in the back of this vehicle.
I follow behind Cal as he walks toward the building. He's still wearing that wife's beater and dress pants combo, and I can't stop myself from admiring how good he looks in it.
The building I want you to picture looks exactly like what you think it would look like. The building is gray with an array of boarded windows, and the air smells like death. I throw a glance at the dead bodies floating in the water. Rust creeps around the door frame that Cal throws open.
"You keep me waiting for long enough. I almost thought you were trying to stiff me, Callum." A Scottish voice comes from a man sitting in a wooden chair in a stereotypical gangster manner. If you need more visuals think backward, and for some reason, he is also wearing a wife beater. The tank top seems to be a part of the dress code. However, his resides underneath an open white dress shirt.
"Oh, Frazier, you know I don't go by that anymore." The doors behind us slam shut as we enter the threshold. I glance back to see two men standing guard next to the doors they just shut. "Besides, I brought someone to apologize for the inconvience he has caused." Cal lightly shoves me forward. This whole experience is beginning to feel slightly degrading.
I shoot a look back at Cal, and he fires one back that silently tells me to apologize.
"I'm s-"
"No, no. If you're going to do this, you should do it right. Get on your knees and beg for forgiveness. Go on, apologize." Cal grins.
Do you feel misled by the title? A bit betrayed *cue evil laugh* what I horrible author I am, I make you wait and I deprive you of smut. I can't even promise the edging will be worth it lmao. Anywho, go buy my other book. The paperbacks on Amazon.
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