Chapter Three
Jace
? “Duality” – Slipknot ?
This is wrong. Oh-so very feckin’ wrong. I tap on her shoulder, trying to wake up Lily, who is currently stroking my cock. I don’t remember when we fell asleep on the couch, or when her head fell into my lap with her hand grabbing my dick.
This is so wrong, but fuck, it feels good.
I tap on her shoulder harder when my dick starts twitching.
Her hand squeezes my tip, and my head falls back on the couch.
I lift my head up and shove at her shoulder.
I can see the side of her face as her eyes pop open and her fingers spread out, hovering inches above my crotch.
I think she just processed what she was doing.
She jumps off the couch with her legs tangled in the blanket, causing her to fallback and land on her arse. “What are you doing?!” she yells.
“What am I doing?” I reach for a throw pillow, putting pressure on my dick. “álainn, what are you doing? Why were you grabbing my dick?”
“I-I was not! Why was your dick in my hand?!”
Fuck. I run my hands through my hair. My eyes follow Lily as she runs out of the living room to her bedroom, slamming her door shut without another word.
I rest my head back against the couch and close my eyes.
I have had a slight boner since the moment Lily opened the door, showing the whole neighborhood her feckin’ silky legs.
Now that ghost feeling of her hand wrapped around my cock will never go away.
I thrust my head up when her bedroom door re-opens and she runs, disappearing into the opposite hallway, returning only a few seconds later with a pile of clothes in her hands.
She runs back to her bedroom, slams her door shut again, but leaves a trail of clothes behind her.
A gruffly moan leaves my mouth as I throw the pillow off me, standing and readjusting my dick. I gather all her clothes from the floor and knock on her door.
“Not now, Jace!”
I knock again, my third knock cut off as Lily swings the door open with her jeans barely on her hips, unbuttoned, showing off her panties.
Feckin’ shit.
“What?!” she yells.
I hold out her clothes. She stares at her panties that are wrapped between my fingers, her cheeks turning bright strawberry pink.
She looks up at me, snatches them out of my hands, and tries to shut the door on me, but I keep it open with my foot and lean against the frame. “I’m taking you to work.”
She gets on the floor on all fours, looking under her bed. “No, you’re not,” she says, getting up while holding one shoe and running to her en-suite.
I follow her into her room and stand in the entry to her bathroom. She finds the other shoe under a towel on the floor. I watch as she tries to balance on one leg to put them on.
“My orders were to stay with you. So yes, I am taking you to work.”
“I can take the subway,” she quickly responds without looking at me. She rotates to the mirror, throwing her hair into a high ponytail.
“You’re late, no, álainn? You won’t make it to the subway.”
She drops her shoulders, and her big emerald eyes meet mine. “Fine, this one time. But only because I am late!”
We get into my car and before I start the engine, I turn to look at her, waiting.
“What?! C’mon! You’re going to make me late!”
“Seatbelt,” I demand.
She rolls her eyes, buckling herself in. I start my car and my music starts playing loudly through the speakers.
“Ugh! What is wrong with you people?” her arms cross over her chest as she shakes her head.
“What?”
“How can you listen to this screaming music all day?”
I lift one eyebrow, turning to look at her. “You work at the club that plays this screaming music all day.”
“I hide my headphones under my hair.” She gives me a wide smile that protrudes her dimples high on her cheeks before she turns to face the window.
I turn the music up louder and step on the gas when I pull out into the street.
I can see her body tense in the corner of my eye when I hit ninety miles an hour.
I curl my hand tighter around the steering wheel, fighting back a smile.
Not many people can drive through traffic in New York like I can.
I’ve been driving here since I was thirteen.
So, memorizing the streets, when and where traffic is going to be the worst, and how to lane change without sideswiping someone is a fucking talent for me.
Less than ten minutes later, we pull into Caffee Latte. Lily turns to me before getting out and says, “Remind me to never get in a car with you again.”
I don’t respond to her, because she will get in the car with me again.
She wanted to get to work on time, so I got her to work on time.
I follow her into the coffee shop and grab a table in the far corner where nobody can sit behind me.
I watch as she replaces the cashier up front, plasters a smile on her face, and starts taking orders.
She has one of those smiles that can make anyone’s day better.
She could walk into a room, and everyone would stop to look at her like she radiates sunshine.
She has been my obsession since the day I met her at Club Opal.
An obsession I have not been able to overcome.
I saw her plump lips, crystal green eyes, ivory skin, and I instantly developed this desire, hunger, craving—a need to be with her, learn her, watch her every move. Her snarky, pretentious attitude only makes me want her more. I know everything about her, yet she wants nothing to do with me.
Luckily for her, I am a patient man. A smart predator is a patient one and I have the mental capacity to endure a challenge. I like to sit. Wait. Wait for my meal to let their guard down before I feast.
Unfortunately, my predator instinct was killed as soon as I got the phone call from Rowan.
Now here I am, sitting like feckin’ prey in this shitty coffee shop, watching her work.
I stop staring at her and open the DWYM program.
Do What You Must is a private investigation company that Rowan and I created.
We only take certain customers, and we do questionable things to get the job done.
My eyes roam back to where Lily stands, unable to keep my eyes off her.
The line to order is long and next in line is a man wearing a suit I know he can’t afford.
I watch Lily’s face contort. Her eyes go low like a little siren in the ocean calling for a sailor.
She props her elbows on the counter, putting her head in her hands.
Her elbows press against her breasts, pushing them outward.
On command, my legs staring moving, making my way to the front counter.
I stand by this lad, towering over him by almost two feet.
As I stare down at him, he tries to puff his chest out at me.
I don’t retreat, I don’t flinch. I just let the heat flow down my skin into my clenched fist. After a while, he gets nervous, breaking eye contact, and steps aside.
I turn my head to see Lily standing away from the counter, her nose and eyebrows scrunched. “What the fuck, Jace?”
“Black coffee, no sugar.”
“No. You cannot cut in line.”
A man steps behind Lily, wiping his hand on a cloth before running his fingers through his salt and pepper hair. He is barely her height, but he keeps his head held high as if he has his own podium to stand on.
“What is going on here?”
“Black coffee. No sugar.” I push a hundred-dollar bill on the counter, toward whom I am assuming is Lily’s boss. “Keep the change.”
He stares at the bill as if he has never seen green paper before. He rips it off the counter, holding it up to the light and looking back at me, then gives me a broken smile. He slowly turns to Lily and screams, “You heard the man, Lilith! Get the coffee!”
I shove my clenched fist into my jean pockets. Lily looks at me, rolling her eyes, and turns around to pour coffee into a cup. She turns back and slides it on the counter, but purposely tips the cup over, making the steaming coffee spill over the bar and onto my jeans.
“Whoopsie,” she says, raising her chin in the air with gleaming eyes.
“Fuck, Lilith.” Her boss rounds the counter with a white towel and starts to wipe off any coffee that dripped onto my jeans and shoes. He gets on one knee, rubbing the towel at my jeans and way too close to my crotch for comfort.
“I am sorry about that, sir. She is a nitwit. I swear, I don’t know why I hired her.”
I break my eye contact with Lily, looking down at the man at my feet.
I grab him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him up into the air until his toes barely touch the ground.
I can hear people in line behind me gasp and whisper.
Her boss’s eyes look like they are going to pop out of their sockets and his mouth hangs open.
“Apologize.” The lad starts to tremble in my grasp, pulling at my arm to try and make me let him go. “Apologize,” I grit again between my teeth.
“I’m sorry!” he cries.
My blood boils, ready to put her boss six feet in the ground for disrespecting a woman, my woman. If she is Lilith, then I am the king of hell, and he better pray to a god for salvation because deliverance doesn’t come from my hands.
I pull him closer to my face. “I think you can do a bit better than that, can’t ye?”
“I’m so sorry Lily—” I tighten my hold on his shirt, hearing his cheap cotton rip beneath my fingers. “You’re a fantastic employee. I didn’t mean it.”
I use my other hand to reach into his front left pocket, right where my hundred-dollar bill was pocketed by this greedy, narcissistic fuck.
I bet he doesn’t pay his employees enough, probably evades taxes.
It would be really unfortunate if his business came crumbling down one day.
I slide the money over to Lily. “Pay for my coffee, álainn, and the rest is yours.”
I wait for her to finish grabbing her tip from the cash register before I set her boss down. I brush my hand against his shirt collar, trying to fix the wrinkles and rips. “What’s your name, lad?”
“Mart.”
“Mart, what?”
“Mart Carmichael.”