“We’re not official,” she retorted.
When she rested her arms on each edge of the sofa, I knew it was a calculated act. Her top was open to showcase her abundant cleavage and red bra. She was smooth, but she chose the wrong battle.
“At least I’m not lying to myself with Miss Too Perfect for this World.” Her voice was edged with amusement.
“You’re jealous of her.” Lily was perfection in its purity and simplicity. Melissa was just a temptation for the weaker souls.
“Please, she’s a child. I bet she doesn’t know how to pleasure a man.”
I beg to differ.
And now the mental image of Lily’s lips wrapped around my cock took possession of my mind. Stroking. Sucking. Licking. Her glimmering golden eyes would look up to me as I thrust inside her mouth. Fisting her hair. Guiding her to meet my drives. Deep and fast, to relieve my hunger. Slow and long, to watch her belong to me.
I snapped out of my illusion, aware of the bulge I had in my pants. My grip had tightened on my pen. I was no different from Melissa with Carmin. Lily was enslaving me in the most torturous way. I loosened my tie, gunning my eyes to Melissa. That should help me to cool down and become myself again.
My brows slanted inward, my irritation smoldering at the idea that Melissa could think this display of weakness was linked to her. I shifted the anger stirring within me to another topic. Melissa still owed me an explanation. I was clement with secrets; I wasn’t with lies and people going behind my back.
“I know you’re the one who locked Lily in my greenhouse on New Year’s Eve.” My hard, stony stare threatened her.
She gulped, her eyes widening in shock. I had eyes everywhere. The moment Lily told me about her fear of the dark, I’d looked at the surveillance cameras.
“Why did you do that to her?”Tik. Tok.
“I—” She searched for her words. “I just wanted to have fun. I was drunk, and I forgot about her on my way—”
“The truth, Melissa.”
My icy, unyielding stare didn’t bulge. Melissa was similar to a spoiled child. Temperamental, impatient, she broke easily. I was aware that in less than three seconds, she’d boil with anger, showing her true temper.
One. Two.
“You played the hunt with her!” she snapped. “You never play. She didn’t deserve your attention. I just had to teach her a lesson. She thinks she’s better than all of us, but she isn’t!”
Inwardly, I was seething. Yet, I kept my anger in check, tempering it by swallowing the rest of the whisky. When I was done, the sound of my glass landing on the table thundered in the room. Melissa jumped out of fear and stumbled backward.
“Next time you hurt her.” I rose up from my seat, my fists on my desk. “Touch her.” I felt my face twist, my eyes reddening with an evil scowl on my face. “Or even speak to her, you’ll pay the price. Am I understood?”
I turned my back to her, walking toward the glass window. I ran the pen nervously through my fingers, my gaze on the sinners inside my club.
“Yes, Radcliff. It won’t happen again,” she promised in a pleading voice. “I just don’t get why everyone is after her. You, the Carmins—”
“The Carmins?” I spoke too fast.
“Yeah. Like father, like son,” she snorted.
Like father, like son.
With a crisp grip, I broke the pen I was holding.
The pieces of it shattered on the floor. My father usurped himself into my brain. My nostrils flared. I felt my scar burning like lava waiting to erupt. The stained glass of my club sneered at my face. My reflection through the glass was just a mirror of the monstrosity of my father and his twisted persona.
What if I was just like him?
Nails grazed on my shoulder. “Radcliff…”
Don’t touch me.
Like a beast on the hunt, I grabbed her wrist violently, smashing her against the glass window. Fury tore through me. I clutched her throat, my face twitching with disgust. I didn’t want her. I was convinced that broken blood vessels were spreading like a virus inside my eye.
