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Fuck. I wanted more time alone with Pen. I growl under my breath. Don’t get me wrong, I actually like Clancy, but her timing sucks. For a split second Pen stiffens as she struggles with how to answer. Then she flicks her gaze from me to Clancy behind us, and plasters a smile on her face. A beautiful,fake, smile.
“Hey girl,” she grins, her face lighting up even when her eyes don’t shine. I watch her tuck away the card into the pocket of her joggers.
“Hey girl? Don’t youhey girlme!” Clancy exclaims, her words tempered by her laughter. “You’ve been ignoring me. I should be chucking your arse to the curb!”
“But you won’t because you love me, right?” Pen asks, tipping her head to the side. There’s a moment of apprehension in her gaze that only I can see before she steps around me, ending any further conversation between us. Not that I could say much with Clancy here anyway.
“Of course I love you! I know a good thing when I see it and I intend on keeping it close. Besides, I don’t do easy,” Clancy responds, her words clearly directed at me.
I grit my jaw, refusing to rise to the bait whilst simultaneously wondering what she knows. I flick my gaze to Pen, but she’s well and truly shut-down. I see how it is.
“Well, I got shit to do,” I say abruptly, twisting on my feet and striding to the door. Clancy gives me an incredulous look as I pass her by.
“Nice outfit,” she smirks, her curiosity piqued.
Ignoring Clancy, I stop at the door and turn to face Pen. She meets my gaze with a steady look of her own. A few minutes ago I had my hand cupping her pussy and my tongue fucking her mouth. She’d fallen apart in my arms and opened herself to me, giving me a way in, but you wouldn’t know it looking at her now. My ego takes a hit at her ability to shut off her emotions so well, but if she thinks this is over, she’s got another thing coming.
Fuck that.
She’s not shutting the door on me, not again. Now that I’ve opened her up a crack, I’m going to do anything I can to keep it that way. If Xeno has an issue with that, he can have a conversation with my fist. He’s been begging for an excuse to fight. Right now I’m happy to indulge the bastard.
“We’ll continue this conversation later,” I say, brooking no arguments, because this isn’t an invitation to talk, it’s a promise.
One I intend on keeping.
