A Debt Owed(33)

But one way or another … we’re going to talk.



Easton



She’s been here for only a couple of minutes, and already it feels as though everything’s gone up in flames. As if her presence alone can suck the water out of the plants and her gaze can set the tablecloth on fire. She’s looking at me, but I’m ignoring her. On purpose, of course.

I enjoy the heat coming at me from across the table. I don’t need to look at her to know she’s fuming. She’s completely obsessed about last night. Who wouldn’t be when this arrogant but handsome billionaire wants to get his hands all over you and touch you in places you didn’t even know existed?

I don’t think she was prepared for what she’d feel when I came close, and now she doesn’t know how to handle it, so she wants to blame me. But I won’t allow it.

No, I’ll let her steam in her own pile a little longer. I can tell she’s losing it by not speaking up. If she talks now, that means she’ll admit I’m still present in her every waking thought, and of course, she doesn’t want to do that.

I’m guessing she also doesn’t want me to have the satisfaction of winning, but there’s one thing she doesn’t know about me … I always win, and quite frankly, I already won the world’s best prize the moment she became my wife.

“Good morning to you,” I say, adding a smile to be kind.

She folds her arms and cocks her head at me in defiance. “Oh, now you talk?”

“I hadn’t noticed you were here.” That’s a lie, but I love the rage that bursts out of her mouth whenever I annoy her. It excites me.

“Stop it,” she hisses.

I knew she couldn’t help it. She hates it when people ignore her. It’s what everyone, including her own family, has been doing to her all her life. The only difference is that they never noticed they were doing it … but I do. But she needs to learn to appreciate my attention before I’m willing to give it to her.

I start cutting up my toast, bacon, and eggs and take a bite, savoring the taste.

“So you’re just going to keep ignoring me?” she says, licking her lips as I swallow.

“I’m not doing anything except eating. You should too if you don’t want it to get cold,” I reply.

“You were in my bed and kissed me.”

Ah, there it is. The magical words that have been resting on her tongue since the moment she stepped into the dining room.

“Yes, so?” She’s stating the obvious here.

She rubs her lips together. “So you’re not even going to say anything about it?”

“What’s there to say?” I raise a brow.

“Are you going to pretend nothing happened?”

“I never said that,” I reply. “I’m not denying anything, and I won’t even try.”

“So you don’t care that you lay down beside me and touched me?”

“That’s what husbands and wives usually do, yes,” I answer.

Her nostrils flare, but she doesn’t say a word, so I continue eating my breakfast.

“Does it even matter to you what I think or feel?” she suddenly asks.

She still hasn’t touched her food.

I put my fork down. “Of course, it does,” I reply. “But you need to understand that you’re mine. And I take what I want, when I want it.”

“Even women … of course …” She rolls her eyes.

“No.” A lopsided grin forms on my lips. “Just you.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “Lucky me.”

“Yes. Lucky you. Now eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”

She grabs her fork and knife and starts cutting into her bacon as if she’s butchering a live animal, glaring at me with those charming eyes that are dead-set on imagining my head on her plate. But that’s okay. I can take the heat.

“Lucky?” she murmurs under her breath. “Lucky?”

“You’re lucky I didn’t go any further,” I reply.

Her nose twitches in that cute way it always does when she’s mere seconds away from screaming. But she won’t because she knows she can’t manipulate me, and that only seems to infuriate her more. But I don’t mind … I adore it when she gets all worked up over something she has no control over.

What she fails to understand is that it doesn’t matter whether I touched or kissed her. What matters is that I take what I want when I want it, and she needs to accept that.

But I’m willing to be patient with her because I’m her first, and her body still needs to get used to the feel of a man owning it and the pleasure that comes with that. I’ll keep tending to her, slowly pushing her like a flower yet to bloom.

Chewing a bite of my bacon, I take delight in the way she looks at me. Memories of last night resurface. “Last night, you seemed to be enjoying it thoroughly…”

“What?” she stammers, almost choking on her bacon. “Nonsense.”

“Right,” I mumble. Does she think I’ll believe that lie?

“You didn’t ask me if I wanted you to,” she says.

“I don’t need to, and you did … otherwise, you would’ve pushed me away, but you didn’t,” I say with a smile. She looks irritable as if she’s caught trying to lie her way out. “I could’ve gone further. I could’ve played with your pussy until you came,” I say while stirring my coffee, and her eyes follow my every move. “Would you have liked that?”