“You don’t listen very well, do you, Princess?” Lifting my free hand, I cup her jaw, turning her head to look at me. “It washisjob to get you there, and he failed. You’re more than capable of becoming sexually aroused—” Dropping my hand away from her face, I move closer. Close enough to feel her nipples stiffen against my chest beneath the soft fabric of the shirt she’s wearing. “I happen to know for a fact you are.”
“Is that so?” She tries for haughty indignation but misses her mark, landing somewhere between confusion and panic.
“Mmmm,” Making a noise in the back of my throat, I bob my head. “You were right, Friday night—I was checking you out. Your legs… your breasts… the small of your back…” Tilting my head, I bring my mouth to within an inch of her ear. “And I knew exactly who I was looking at the second you walked through the door. Watching you, fighting with you—fuck,getting the shit slapped out of me by you—all I could think about was how good your pussy would feel, wrapped around my cock. How badly I wanted to know what your cum tastes like. What kind of sounds you’d make for me while I filled you up with mine.”
Her eyes slip closed and her breath goes soft and shallow against my cheek. “Dean…”
“Yes, Princess?”
Squeezing her eyes shut, she shakes her head before forcing them open. “What are you doing?” Turning her head to look at me, she hooks her wide hazel gaze into mine. “Why are you…”
“I’m proving my point.” Pulling back just enough to look at her, I give her a smirk. “You might think I’m a rude, conceited,couthlessasshole—but I’m willing to bet just about everything I own that your panties are soaked right now, and all I had to do was whisper in your ear.”
Her gaze flares wide on a soft gasp, denial sputtering against her lips. Before she can give it a voice, I make a warning sound in the back of my throat, daring her to deny it. When she thinks better of it, I pull back completely. “It washisjob to get you there, Mills, and he didn’t. Hecouldn’tbecause he’s a lousy fuck. That’s nobody’s fault but his.”
Before she can argue with me some more and quite possibly push me into doing something we’d both regret, I move my hands to her shoulders and pull her away from the door I have her pressed against. “Stop letting him gaslight you. Allister fucked your cousin because he’s a cheating piece of shit with a fragile ego and a small dick andshefuckedhimbecause sheloves to make you feel small and gets off on taking what’s yours, so stop crying over those assholes,” I tell her before opening the door. “Neither one of them deserve it.”
“He’s going to tell Paige what you said,” she says to me, her tone edged in panic. “He’s going to tell her that you… they’re both going to think that we?—”
“That I plan on fucking you? Maybe that we’ve been fucking each other this entire time?” I give her an apathetic shrug. “Good—you got your revenge. Now I have mine.”
TWENTY-ONE
Ispend the rest of the flight alternatingbetween pacing the room I’ve trapped myself in and lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
Watching you, fighting with you—fuck,getting the shit slapped out of me by you—all I could think about was how good your pussy would feel, wrapped around my cock. How badly I wanted to know what your cum tastes like. What kinds of sounds you’d make for me while I filled you up with mine.
He didn’t mean it.
None of it was true.
Like everything else Dean Mercer’s ever done or said to me in the two years I’ve been forced to tolerate his presence, it was just a way to get under my skin. Irritateme. Shock me.
And as usual, it worked.
Mostly because he wasn’t wrong.
You might think I’m a rude, conceited, couthless asshole—but I’m willing to bet just about everything I own that your panties are soaked right now and all I had to do was whisper in your ear.
And now, because I was stupid and impulsive, I don’t get to spend the next two weeks in blissful solitude, working on my tan and crying about the mess my meticulously ordered life has become over room service ice cream.
No.
Because I deviated from the plan, I get to spend the next two weeks being irritated and annoyed by the one person who also happens to be the only man who’s ever made me feel… anything, really.
After Gwen’s disastrous bachelorette weekend in the Hamptons, I came home and threw myself headlong into my relationship with Allister. I was all in. I said yes to every invitation. Dinner. The ballet. Even the opera, which I secretly despise. I said yes. Allowed myself to be pursued, knowing full well where it was heading. That a man like Allister wouldn’t pursue a woman like me unless he was looking for a commitment.
We shared our first kiss at my sister’s wedding and when an appropriate of time had passed, I invited him to my apartment for dinner where we had sex between the main course and dessert. When he realized it was my first time, he was almost unbearably ceremonious about it while I laid there and tried to feel something even remotely close to what I felt during those twenty minutes I spent alone in my room with Dean, that night.
He wasn’t wrong about that either.
I might think Dean Mercer is a rude, conceited,couthlessasshole but I also know that the entire time he was standing over me while he whispered filthy words in my ear, all I could think about was how badly I wanted him to kiss me. How much I wish hehadkissed me that night. How angry I am at Paige—not because she slept with my fiancé, but because I know that if she hadn’t interrupted us that night, my first time would’ve been completely different.
It would’ve been with Dean.
And being with him, even if it was just for one night, would’ve changed everything.
It would’ve changed me.
