Page 58 of Dulce


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Well, it’s safe to say Cain is avoiding me yet a-fucking-gain since the scene in Dmitri’s office but there has been no outward hostility toward me which is something. I almost miss it. It’s easier to hate someone when they hate you right back. Now though, instead of his cruelty, I think about when he would climb into bed beside me and the look of rapture on his face when he fucked me.

My feelings for him are blurring and its yet one more complication I don’t need.

Speaking of complications. Dmitri is definitely not avoiding me. No, he seems to be everywhere I am. Everywhere I turn, Dmitri is watching me with wicked eyes that promise both pleasure and pain. I feel like a fish on a hook slowly being reeled in. And yet, I’m helpless to stop it.

I place the cap back on the bottle of nail polish and place my feet on the coffee table to let my toes dry, enjoying the peace and quiet while I can because I know it won’t last. Hell, if Aslanov is following his pattern over the last few days, he’s likely to be lurking in the closet somewhere watching me.

My cell rings, so I dig it out from under my butt, where it’s made a valid attempt to disappear between the sofa cushions, and answer without looking to see who it is.

“Hello.”

“Ev, long time no speak.”

“Griff.” I sigh, feeling a twinge in my chest after what I did in the office with Cain. Fuck, why does everything have to be so damn messy?

“We want to see you.”

“We, as in Hunter and you?”

“No, we as in me and the president,” he snarks. I’ve met the president, so it seems unlikely.

“What’s with the attitude?”

“Fuck, sorry, Ev. I’m in a shitty mood. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

“Is Hunter there?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Put him on.”

“Ev…”

“Hunter first, please.”

He grumbles but hands off the phone as I lean my head back against the sofa and close my eyes.

“Yo.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with Griff?”

He snorts, “Why not just ask the man himself? I’m not his fucking secretary.”

“Seems his pissy attitude is contagious.”

“Shit, sorry.” He sighs. “His dad called him. He wants him to go visit. He’s pretty persistent about it. Says he has something he needs to tell him.”

“And he’s not dealing with it well, which is natural since his dad is a giant turd. On a scale of one to ten, how much of an ass is Griff to live with right now?”

He laughs. “An eleven.”

“I figured as much. My advice is to wake him up with a blow job each morning. The man is a slave to his cock. Drain him dry and he’ll be meek as a lamb the rest of the day.”

“Right. Just like that, huh?”

“Men are simple creatures, Hunter. You know that, being one and all. Focus on the vein running the length of it, it’s super sensitive, apparently. Get him addicted. Then, when he pisses you off, you can threaten to cut him off.”

He laughs again. “You are making it impossible to dislike you.”

“I thought you were halfway in love with me,” I tell him, sounding affronted.

“You can love someone and want to strangle them.”

Now it’s my time to laugh. “I guess that’s fair. Look, if you need someone to bitch to, call me. You don’t have to go through Griff to speak to me anymore.”

“Because you’re not his?” he asks softly, fishing for what, I don’t know.

“Because I’m not just his now, am I?”

His breathing picks up. I’ve surprised him, but I’m not sure why. They made it clear they wanted to see where things could go between the three of us. I said I’d try, and that means throwing myself out there, not holding back parts of myself or loving one of them harder than the other. Shit like that will doom us right from the get-go.

“Alright, Dulce, I’ll call you.”

“Good. Now put cranky pants back on before his head explodes.”

I wait for Griff to take the phone. “I wasn’t going to tell you,” he admits.

“Why?”

“My father already feels like an obstacle between us. I didn’t want to make it any worse.”

“He’s only between us because you let him reside there. I know it’s hard to accept that I did what I did with him, but it was never done out of romance or lust. To me, it was strictly business. I know that’s still shitty, and if the shoe was on the other foot and I wasn’t such a crazy bitch, I doubt I’d be happy either, but…”

“But it’s done and can’t be changed. I get it, I’m not mad. It’s weird because I know, logically, I should be, but I was fucking around with Hunter while you were doing dear old dad, so I’d be the world’s biggest hypocrite if I did have an issue.”

“We’re like a regular old episode of Jerry Springer,” I say, making him burst out laughing.

“You’re not wrong there. It’s not your history with him that’s stressing me out, I swear. I think a part of me just panicked. If you’re down here tidying up a mess that started with him, what happens when you’re done? Will you leave again without a word? Because I have to be honest, Dulce I can’t handle losing you again.”

“Shhh…Calm down. I promised you I wouldn’t just leave. I told you I’d see where this thing between us goes, but you have to trust me to keep my word. I might not have told you everything before, but I never lied to you. Well, except that one time you asked me if I liked that green shirt with the black and white bull’s head printed on it. I lied through my teeth then.”

“Hey, don’t diss my lucky shirt, woman.”

I hear Hunter laughing in the background and know that everything is going to be okay.

“At the risk of setting you off again, any idea what your father wants?”

“No, none. Maybe he just wants to remind me to keep my mouth shut about what he did to me.”

“Hmm…maybe.”

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