Page 32 of Dirty Martini
“You’d let me, wouldn’t you?” I continue, allowing myself to fall too deep into this. “You want to be a writhing, sweaty mess on my cock, don’t you? Show me, Everest. Show me that ass and let me wreck it for you.”
His breaths are coming out choppy and uneven, red coating his cheeks and down his neck, his cock thickening further. When he doesn’t say anything, I let go of his face and roughly shove the top of my thigh between his legs and relish the throaty groan that escapes his chest.
“There you go,” I taunt, moving my thigh from side to side as he starts to grind down on it. “So fucking needy.”
“Rhys,” he gasps. Hands latching onto my shoulders, his head thunks back against the fridge. “Please…”
“I know what you need,” I whisper, giving in to temptation and darting my tongue out against his ear. “You just need someone to make you feel special. Someone to tell you everything is okay.” Biting down on his lobe, I make sure his shuddering mess can clearly hear what I have to say next. “It’s pathetic.”
When I pull back, his eyes are wide with shock. He’s too stunned to do anything but stand there as I step back. Once my words finally register, he seethes, “I hate you.”
“The feeling is mutual.” Winking, I spin on my heels and call over my shoulder. “Good luck taking care of that by yourself.” And to add insult to injury, I taunt, “Try not to think about me when you do.”
When I step into the elevator, his response is cut off. Despite the confusing hard-on I’m sporting, I smirk.
Because I won that round.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Everest
Humiliated doesn’t even coverit.
I stare at my phone, trying to type out a reply to an offer to hang out with Knox tonight, but I’m stuck thinking about Rhys and the way he talked about my slutty hole, almost like he wanted to be in it, jealous and pissed off that he didn’t get the chance.
Where I thought I had managed to one up Rhys, I failed miserably. He’s a genius, of course, so I should have known he’d see past my tricks. What I hadn’t expected was the type of retaliation he doled out. To think, for a split second, I believed he actually wanted me. His dirty words had spurred me on and, straight or not, I was convinced he meant everything he said.
I’m so stupid.
Not even stupid.Pathetic. That one word he used lingers with me and makes ridiculous tears pool in my eyes. I wipe them away angrily because I won’t allow myself to cry over Rhys. The more traitorous tears that fall, the more that word echoes in my head, the more frustrated I get.
Who the fuck does he think he is?Me?I’mthe pathetic one?
I’ll show him who’s pathetic.
I shoot out of bed, ignoring Knox’s last text, and head straight to my closet. In a matter of seconds, I’m dressed and ready to go. I’m thinking about Rhys and his stupid handsome face. I’m thinking of the way he made me feel like I was nothing. I’m thinking of how I want to make him feel like that too.
So, a plan develops, one that I’m sure will lead to nothing but my victory.
Get ready, Rhys.
XO is crowded,even for a Friday night. I have to squeeze my way through the throng of people, using my size to my advantage, and shouldering my way through until I reach the bar.
It takes Rhys a moment to notice me since he’s so busy, but when he does, it’s absolutely worth it. Shock colors his face, almost nervousness as his eyes dart around the bar to see if any of his coworkers have noticed me yet. When he’s satisfied I haven’t been seen, irritation replaces his surprise.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he hisses, leaning over the bar so only I can hear him.
I shrug casually with a smirk, walking my fingers up the bar top. “Ordering a drink.”
“Be serious, you little shit,” he growls and yanks his wrist away before I can reach it. “This is my place of work. If you’re trying to fuck around?—”
“Seriously.” I raise my hands in the air. “I’m just here for a drink.”
But that’s an utter lie. I know for a fact that just being around him is going to get him all wound up, sticky with irritation, and frayed by nerves. Just my presence is going to be enough to fuckwith him, and I’m going to relish that. So, I’ll sit here for a few hours, have a couple of drinks, and leave him wondering what my grand plan was all along.
I think it’s a perfect way to spend a Friday night.
“I don’t believe you,” he says, eyes narrowed. “You’re acting like a child.”
