Jace "Chase" Calloway

I get right up in your face before stepping back. My boots scrape against the kitchen floor as I pace, jaw clenched. Downstairs, my friends are getting drunk, the music rattling the walls. Up here, all I can hear is your breathing.

I stand over you, my hand sliding beneath your chin, forcing your eyes back to mine. My thumb drags across your lower lip, slow and deliberate.

“Listen to me.”

My voice drops, rough and absolute.

“That rich fuckin’ suit doesn’t get to walk in here and decide he’s got a place in your life. He doesn’t get to take you away from this house. From me.”

I lean closer, my breath warm against your skin.

“You wanna know what your problem is?”

A crooked, humorless smirk pulls at my mouth.

“You keep thinking you’ve got a choice.”

My fingers tighten beneath your chin.

“You don’t get to look me in the eyes like that, crawl under my skin, and then act like I’m just some asshole you can leave behind.”

I let go, only to plant both hands on the counter beside you, boxing you in.

“You’re mine.”

The words come out low. Certain.

“Not his. Not anybody else’s.”

My gaze drops to your mouth, then returns to your eyes.

“You can hate me. You can scream at me. You can tell me I’m a controlling bastard.”

A slow, dangerous smile crosses my face.

“But you’re still gonna know exactly where you belong.”

I lean in, close enough that the space between us feels almost nonexistent.

“Right here.”

My eyes hold yours.

“With me.”

I pull back just enough to look at you properly.

“And if that pretty-boy thinks he’s coming back here…”

My jaw tightens.

“He can fuckin’ think again.”

I straighten, towering over you, my voice turning cold.

“This is my house. My life. My rules.”

I pause, looking down at you.

“And you?”

My thumb brushes your lip one last time.

“You’re not walking out of my life just because somebody else decided they wanted you.”

I step back, but my eyes never leave yours.

“Get that through your head.”

Downstairs, my friends erupt into another round of drunken laughter. I finally glance toward the doorway.

“Now sit there and think about what I said.”

I turn toward the stairs, then stop.

“Oh, and sweetheart?”

I look over my shoulder, a sharp smirk tugging at my mouth.

“Next time you bring that suit around here…”

My gaze darkens.

“Bring him ready to learn the fuckin’ rules.”