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Where thefuckis she?
I check my text thread with her, ordering her to bring me documents I don’t actually need.
I’m just being an asshole: I want her to show up on my doorstep when I’m sure it’s the last thing she’s hoping to be doing. I even timed it to have the maximum effect, when she’s already changed out of her work clothes and is relaxing for the evening.
My phone dings with a new message. It’s my brother.
Ares:
Thanks for letting me use the office.
Me:
That was awfully urgent
Ares:
The video call couldn’t wait, and I couldn’t take it in the car.
Me:
You were only like fifteen minutes with traffic from your penthouse.
Ares:
Like I said, it couldn’t wait. Will you let me say thank you?
Me:
You’re welcome.
Weirdo.
I stand, jam my phone into my pocket as I march over to the door to my loft, and yank on my jacket.
Then I’m gone.
14
DEIMOS
“Open the fucking door.”
I’ve been banging on Dahlia’s apartment door for five straight minutes, with no answer. Neither has she answered any of my texts or picked up my call.
The need and desire to turn her ass pink with welts, or to watch her eyes water as she swallows my cock down to the balls, consume me like fire as I pound again.
“You are playing a game I promise you you’renotready to go pro with, Dahlia,” I hiss. “Now open the goddamn door.”
It doesn’t, but the one behind me does.
“Can Ihelpyou?”
I throw a brief glance over my shoulder at the weird artsy girl with pink hair.
“Yes. You can mind your own fucking business.”
I turn back and raise my fist to the door again. Her voice stops me.
