He stared down at her. His brothers seemed perfectly fine with sending Tori in to tame the Thea beast.
If Tori had her spirit back and she was calling the three of them her men, Callum was all for it-with one caveat. "I'll let you handle her as you see fit, but there's no way I'm sending you in alone."
"She doesn't get to see you." Tori's blue eyes went hard.
Oh, he was going to enjoy this evening. "I want to spank you. I'm going to tie you down and spank that saucy arse of yours, and then I'm going to ease my cock into that tight little hole. Do you understand?"
Her breath hitched. She wasn't unaffected.
"Are we negotiating?"
"Yes." He brushed his thumb across her lower lip. "I'll stay back here and let you handle the situation if I can do wicked, nasty things to you later on that will make me feel like your man again."
"Done." Her eyes sparkled with mirth. "But I suspect I'll have to take Oliver and Rory with me. Am I right?"
Such a clever girl. "Exactly. You do your thing. Then you come back to me and present yourself. Tonight's play starts early."
She nodded, suddenly somber. "I'm done running away."
He pressed his forehead to hers. "I can't tell you how glad I am to hear that. I love you. You won't regret this."
"I'm done regretting things. I also won't regret this." She kissed him one last time and turned away, still clutching that riding crop in her hand. "Let's get this bitch out of our lives for good."
As Oliver followed her, he leaned toward Callum. "You're welcome."
"I'm not thanking you. You made a monster." Cal smiled as he said it.
"Well, I'm thanking you, Ollie. Damn uncomfortable not knowing whether Tori intended to stay or go." Rory hurried after them.
Callum was fairly certain their woman was about to cause trouble. And he was going to be a good boy and let her do it. Then he would have his revenge on her sweet ass.
He poured himself another Scotch and wished he could see his woman in action. He was sure she would be spectacular.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Tori paused outside the dining room. She could hear voices inside, and her sister-in-law was definitely out of her league. She didn't stop to correct herself. Claire was going to be her sister-in-law and it was time Tori taught the woman a few things.
"I'm advising my brothers to not make any kind of a deal with you." Through the slightly open door, she saw Claire sitting across from the platinum blonde. Thea was decked out. She wore more bling than a hooker looking for a "date." It fit. Thea was the sort of girl looking for a man to pay her way through life and wasn't above using her body to get it.
She was done preying on Callum-or any of the Thurston-Hughes brothers.
"I don't care what you advise your brothers to do," Thea said in a nasally voice. "I only care about Callum and what he promised me. When we made this baby together, he promised me we would be married. I need to talk to him, to remind him of how good we are together."
Claire shook her head. "I think it's best if he doesn't see you again."
"Then you should be prepared for me to write a tell-all book about how your family works and how that whore took my husband. I'm not stupid. I know the great and almighty publicist hates her real face being shown to the world." Thea's overly long nail tapped against the conference table.
Tori wondered if Thea would sound so confident if the woman knew what Callum had done to her on that very table. It had involved some rope, an anal plug, a paddle, and some screaming hot sex. Oliver and Rory hadn't been shy about joining in.
The world hadn't ended when her nipple graced the cover of the tabloids, and she would survive the Thea mishap, too. Somehow since that moment she'd read her father's words, she'd found a strength that she'd been missing for years.
"Not at all. Tori simply wouldn't lower herself to be in the same room with you." Sweet Claire. Even as angry as she was, her future sister-in-law hadn't thrown her under the bus.
It was time to save Claire. A good publicist knew that a client should always stay calm, always face the event in question with grace and dignity.
She wasn't a publicist today. She was a wife-and not a very happy one.
"If you make her bleed, get her off the rug. It's antique Aubusson, worth a fortune, and stains like that are hard to remove. Best to kill her on the hardwoods," Oliver said without a hint of teasing in his voice.
She turned to him. "I like the new Oliver."
"He's actually just the old Oliver. Bloody sarcastic," Rory pointed out. "Actually, the hardwoods are original. Do you know how much they would cost to replace? Maybe you could end her outside. I'll help you carry her."