Calloway // Michael Gray x Reader - Peaky Blinders Fanfic

Chapter 19

The keys clatter in my hand as we step into our dimly lit hotel room. My feet are sore in my heels, and I moan softly in relief as I step out of them. Michael drinks water, then glances around the room for a moment, a look of mild frustration across his face.

"What is it?" I ask.

"You've got my bloody watch, haven't you?"

I bite my lip and hold out my left arm, still gloved to the elbow. "Come and get it."

He stalks across room toward me with slow, deliberate steps. "You're still wearing it?"

"Yes."

He takes my hand in his own. Traces the outline of his watch through the glove, before drawing his fingers slowly down my wrist, and tugging at the satin over my fingers.

With tantalising slowness, he pulls the fabric from my arm, baring my skin inch by inch. And then it drops to the floor, and his hands caress me once more — my elbow, forearm, wrist, treated as though made of solid gold. He watches me hungrily, before his gaze flits down to the watch face and he checks the time. My breath is stuck in my chest.

"Thank you," he murmurs. "I'll take the first shower."

I gasp softly, exhaling. No fair. "Don't you want it back?" I ask.

Michael shakes his head as he goes into the bathroom. "A bet's a bet, Cal."

He closes the door and runs the shower and I squeeze my eyes shut as I try to breathe normally again. He did that on purpose. He probably knows I'm feeling this pent up for him — probably enjoys it.

I'm dead set on revenge.

I already showered before the dance, and don't want to take my makeup off or brush out the curls from my hair. I slip out of my dress and gloves, changing into lacy scraps of lingerie. Everything is a pastel pink, satin, my hair curled and fluffy. Only the watch on my wrist breaks the effect, heavy and masculine. Michael's watch.

The water shuts off. I fold up my clothes and put them in the to-be-washed section of my trunk. I straighten up, and Michael walks back into the room, freezing when he sees me.

I'm exposed, practically naked. But for once, I do not shy away from his gaze. "Everything alright?" I ask.

His jaw clenches. His eyes narrow. And then, a smirk grows across his face.

"Just fine," he tells me.

He turns away from me, and drops the towel from his waist.

Oh my fucking god.

It's my turn to freeze, unmoving and unspeaking, at the sight of his bare ass as he walks confidently to the wardrobe and grabs a pair of shorts. Heat flushes my face, and I find myself hoping he'll turn, hoping I'll get a glimpse of something more.

"Lights out, yeah?" He tells me, flicking the lamp off.

The room plunges into darkness, leaving only faint moonlight filtering through the curtains. My heart races, my senses heightened in the dark. I take a step towards him, towards the bed.

"I'm good at seeing in the dark," I say, my words a mere whisper.

"Afraid I'm not," he replies. His voice is low and laced with desire. "I have to feel my way around."

Without a word, I move closer, the space between us narrowing. I can feel his presence, his heat, drawing me like a magnet. The watch on my wrist seems to pulse with every beat of my heart.

His fingers graze my bare shoulder, tracing a path across my chest, down my sternum, tugging at the lining of my bra. My eyes roll back in the darkness, and then he pauses, flattening his palm against my chest.