Chapter Forty-Eight
Irvin
I hear her footsteps behind me as I walk up the stairs, and she follows me into the bedroom.
I remove my shoes, my clothes, and pull on my pajamas.
She thinks she’s winning. She thinks she has control.
Good. I want her to. If she wants to dig her own grave and go toe to toe with me, I’ll give her the opportunity.
I have her right where I want her.
She removes her clothes, standing completely naked in front of me. She grabs me by the neck and pulls me down into a kiss. I’ll let her think she’s in control of fucking me. She pushes me down on the bed, pulls my dick from my silk pajama pants, and places her mouth on me.
“Lilac…” My tone is husky.
“What is it you tell me when I try to deny you sex? Don’t act like you don’t want it.” She grins. “My all-time favorite. Your dick wants me.”
I lie on the bed, sliding my fingers through her hair, nudging her mouth around my dick. If she wants to suck the shit out of me, she can go ahead. I’ll let her win this round.
I look down at her, and her eyes widen.
“What?” I ask.
She sits on the bed, glaring. “You’re not going to stop me from taking advantage of you?”
I want to roll my eyes but refrain. She can’t take advantage of me, especially when I’ve always wanted it. She steps deeper into the trap she built.
“You can do whatever the fuck you want, babe. You want to take advantage of me? Go right ahead. I’m not stopping you. Keep going, babe.”
She watches my every move, hesitating.
“Go on, my princess.”
She gets off me and stands there, folding her arms across her chest.
I cock my eyebrow, smirking. “What’s wrong? You wanted this. So take advantage of me.”
No response. She steps back.
She’s going to feel my absence like a bruise.
I get up from the bed, pull my pants back over my hips, and leave the bedroom.
She’s on my heels again when I enter the living room. I turn around just as my princess starts throwing shit off the shelves. I ignore her, sit on the couch, turn on the television, and put on anime.
I smile. “So you care?”
“I don’t give a fuck about you.”
“Okay, cool.”
“Just ‘okay, cool’?”
I don’t respond, keeping my eyes glued to the television. She leaves the living room, and the door slams. I rush upstairs, grab my phone, and track her location. She’s running the trail in the neighborhood.
Princess: Why are you acting like this? Being an asshole toward me.
I don’t respond.
Princess: Asshole. Now you’re ignoring me.
Still don’t respond.
Princess: Whatever, Irvin. You’re a pill.
She’s learning to crave my presence. She says she isn’t falling for me, but she keeps blowing up my phone with texts. Several minutes later, she bursts into the bedroom, tears trickling down her cheeks, then wraps her arms around my shoulders and rests her head on my chest.
“I thought you didn’t care about me?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t.”
“Then why are you here, my princess?”
She doesn’t respond. There it is. She gave it away. She does have feelings for me—she just doesn’t want to admit it.
“I’m going to solve the murder cases.”
I lift her chin so she’ll look at me. “Okay, princess.”
“You’re really going to let me do that?”
I smirk. She’s trying to get a reaction out of me. It won’t work.
“What do you want to know?”
I’m not going to allow her to get hurt, but I’m not falling into her trap.
“No. Do what you want.”
She huffs. “Why don’t you care about me anymore?”
Mission accomplished.
“I do care about you, princess. But you need to ask yourself why you want my attention so bad.”
She slides under the covers and buries herself in the pillow.