"I was momentarily insane."
Nodding, my gaze wanders to her bed and the red dress she's put on it, along with a soft peach silk bra and panties, and the black shoes that sit on the floor.
My libido does the fucking mamba.
My dick wants to come to that party, bad.
I need to get the fuck out. I'm pissed about her sex game of no kissing. Because I don't think it's part of the game. It is, in a way, but it's not how it started.
She wants to kiss me, but she seems to think...
Actually, who the fuck knows what the mad woman thinks.
I don't.
All I know is her not kissing me when she wants to do just that irks me.
"I think you're more than momentarily insane, but we'll leave that until later. I'll send one of the guards up with a selection of food. Try not to throw it at them. They're innocent." I turn, drinking her coffee. "I've sent you more work. Get to it, and I'll be back later."
And I stalk out.
Fuck, she's driving me insane. Not eating, needing to answer me back on everything, and yet still willing to go down on her knees and suck my cock and bend over the desk to play out my fantasies.
Her fantasies, too.
And I don't feel great about it all.
Sure, sex with Lola keeps getting better, and it's fuckingfantastic to be doing all that. But the fact she still hates me, still fumes, is annoying as hell.
I'm still fuming, too.
And even though Lola had space and time, she still won't entertain the idea of forgiving me.
I know because every time I try to bring it up, she changes the subject.
And I'm not sure the only sex I want with her is in the confines of a game of Alex or secretary.
I think she's purposefully picking little fights right before she shuts me down when I try to talk. Or she fucks me.
And that was once. She fucked me once. I've gone down on her, and she's also blown me. Which isn't the point. The point is...
The point is she does something to distract me. She would rather have us on uneven ground where talk is hazardous than try to work it out and hopefully move on.
Yesterday, she was pissed and let me have it for being alone all day and for no one checking on her.
She wants space, so what's the problem? And what does she call someone bringing her lunch and breakfast?
But according to her, that doesn't count.
I fucking pointed out that I was busy and that Lyndall had lessons all day.
Fuck it. I have work to do now, too.
I go down and decide what food to send up to her. I don't know why she's not eating her breakfast, but it's annoying as fuck.
"Just...don't," I mutter as Cade looks up from the kitchen counter where he's getting both a coffee and an energy drink.
He narrows his eyes. "I didn't say anything. Is wearing eggs your new thing? Or..."
