AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My face goes red, and my core tightens. Deimos pauses for a moment, then nods at the stack of boxes.
“You feel as if this sort of work is beneath you, don’t you.”
I frown. “No, I just—”
“Tell the truth. Don’t fall back on some lame excuse. This isn’t about you not having the skills, and I’m not asking for a sermon on social equity between the educated class and the working class, so don’t bore me with one. You simply think this sort of work for your internship, given that you’re a very intelligent, highly educated woman, is beneath you.”
“Can I be honest?” I snap.
“That’s literally what I just asked you to do.”
“Then,yeah,” I say. “I do think it’s beneath me. Which I know is exactly why you’re—”
“Good,” he growls with a grin.
Instantly, I’m on my feet. I can deal with Deimos’ bullshit, damn it. I can try and predict the weather when he flips between making me come on his fingers and then bossing me around like I’m some sort of slave.
But Idon’tneed to be set up for failure just so he can bring some popcorn and watch.
“You’re doing this on purpose,” I hiss.
Deimos chuckles. “Did it take you all day to put that thought together? You know, like it took you all day to put those four shitty-looking chairs together?”
“Fuck you.”
“We’ll get there, fret not.”
Asshole.
“Why are you doing this?” I spit.
Whatever traces of mirth and amusement were on his face vanish.
“Why, Deimos?” I continue. “Because I had the gall to start a life here in New York and that in a city of ninemillionpeople we happened to cross paths again? Is that what you’re so bent out of shape about?! Are youkidding—”
I gasp as he closes the distance between us and clamps his fingers around my throat. Heat and something wicked and sharp rakes up my spine as his black eyes burn into mine.
“Perhaps, Dahlia,” he rasps viciously. “It’s simply that I amexactlythe villain you always thought I was. And this is just what I. Fucking. Do.”
He leans close, so close that not for the first time, I think he’s going to kiss me. But suddenly, his fingers are leaving my throat, and he steps away.
“You’re dismissed.”
My brows arch sharply. “Are you firing me?”
“If I was firing you, there’d be no ambiguity about it.” His lips curl. “Get out. We’re done. For today.”
And then, without another word, he turns, walks back to his glass castle, and shuts the door.
* * *
Two hours later,I’m finally home, and relieved to be in for the night. But I’m still beyond livid about Deimos’ bullshit earlier today.
It’s the bizarre ping-pong match back and forth I can’t keep up with. One minute, he’s biting my skin and sinking his finger deep inside of me, wringing the single most explosive orgasm of my life from my body, and the next, he’s got me doing menial grunt work while he lords it over me being a giant dickhead.
Yeah, if this is what working for Deimos is going to be like, I’m going to have chronic whiplash.
I’m sprawled on the couch in front of some mindless Netflix show when my phone dings. My scowl fades a little when I see Victoria’s name on the screen—the girl I crashed into on campus.
