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“And you couldn’t find a charger somewhere?”
“I didn’t think about it.”
“I see.” I nod, my lips trembling slightly, but I keep from smiling. This is serious. “Where have you been?”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “I told you. I had dinner with Tessa.”
“For four and a half hours?”
“What if I did?”
“Then you’d be lying,” I say, still not rising.
I’m determined not to tell her how worried I was. She doesn’t deserve that satisfaction. Do I believe her phone was dead? Yes, I do, because my people couldn’t locate her. It seems to be working now, though. She found a charger, and though I’m dying to ask about it, I will not. Again, I will not give her the satisfaction.
“If you insist on knowing my whereabouts,” she finally says, “I was at a club.”
“You hate clubs.”
“Tessa talked me into it.”
That gets a laugh out of me. A sarcastic, scoffing laugh. As if she thinks I’ll believe anyone can talk her into anything.
“If Tessa hasn’t talked you into clubbing by now, she never will.”
“Okay, I decided on my own.”
Anger curls along my spine. She’s lying. She claims to trust me, yet she’s lying.
“Why are you lying to me?” I demand.
“I’m not. I decided to go on my own.”
“You know perfectly well what I’m talking about. You first said Tessa talked you into it, and you and I both know no one talks you into anything. Fuck it all, I should know.”
She looks to the floor. “I’m sorry.”
“For what? Not checking your email or lying to me?”
“Both, I guess, but more for lying.”
“What am I going to do with you?” I say, my voice dark.
She smiles, raising her eyebrows. “Whatever you want?”
Oh my God… She’s trying to send me to an early grave. First, she sends me into a tailspin of worry, which is totally unlike me. Then she fucking lies.
And now?
Now she’s trying to play the good little submissive…and damn, if I’m not ready to fall for it. My cock twitches.
“That is certainly tempting.” I uncross my legs, letting my knees part.
My erection is apparent. And throbbing. And totally wanting to be inside her.
She quivers. Subtly, but I can’t miss it. I notice everything about her. Every tiny twitch of her flesh. Every slight change of hue to her skin. Her body responds to me as it always does. What’s she going to do next?
I have no idea, which both angers me and makes me want her all the more.
She clears her throat. “I didn’t find a charger, Braden. On purpose. So I wouldn’t get a text if you texted me back.”
Rage stews inside me, but I hold it in check. As I suspected, she’s playing a game. A game of control, she thinks.
She will soon find out how misguided she is.
“I see. So if I had texted you instead of emailing you, we’d still be sitting here in the same situation.”
She nods. “Yes, except that I would’ve seen your text when I plugged my phone in during my Uber ride home.”
Ah. So that’s why her phone is working now. As much as I try to stop them—I’m still pissed as hell—my lips curve upward. “So you charged your phone, and your first thought was that I hadn’t responded to your text.”
She nods again.
The smile stays on my face, and this time I don’t try to stop it. I got to her.
Good.
“You look very pleased with yourself,” she says.
“I’m usually pleased with myself. Surely you know that by now.”
She doesn’t reply.
“Perhaps now you have an inkling of how you make me feel on the daily,” I say.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You fight me at every turn,” I tell her. “I almost wish I hadn’t emailed you back at all. It would serve you right.”
She curls her hands into fists. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means you attempted to manipulate me, Skye, and you already know I don’t take kindly to that.”
“I did not try to manipulate you.”
“Oh? And exactly what do you call deliberately not charging your phone so you wouldn’t see whether I responded to you?”
“That’s not manipulation, Braden. That’s me controlling my own life.”
I shake my head.
So much she has yet to learn.
“That’s not control, Skye. If you don’t want to respond to a text or an email, then don’t respond to a text or an email. That is control. Keeping your phone dead to avoid responding to me? That is manipulation.”
She opens her mouth, but no words come out.
Until she lets out a sarcastic laugh. “Funny. Okay, let’s say you’re right. Let’s say I did manipulate you, or at least attempted to. What do you think you do to me every day? This almost sadistic need you have for control? I gave it to you. I gave it to you in the bedroom. But that isn’t enough for you. You want it over every aspect of my life. If that’s not manipulation, tell me what is.”
