Page 39 of His Stolen Queen
She snorted and flicked her glorious hair over her shoulder. “Like that’s stopped him before.”
My stomach bottomed out at her words, but before I could respond, her phone beeped.
A satisfied smile curved her red mouth as she read the message. “Please excuse me. It's Acheron. He needs me.”
For the duration of the day, I fumed over what had happened. Why should I care if he was fucking Tatiana? I didn't, of course.I mean, it was highly unprofessional to shit where you ate, but that was his problem. I just didn't want it to interfere with my work, that was all. The last thing I needed was some bitchy assistant taking credit for the hard work Von had diligently put in.
When I made it home that evening, I found David at the stove making dinner.
“Hey, babe. How was work?” he automatically asked without turning around.
I dumped my bag on the floor and walked straight to him. His sound of surprise was swiftly muffled when I jerked him around and yanked him down for a kiss. He paused briefly before his mouth moved against mine, tangling his tongue between my lips. My hand slid down his stomach before I grabbed his crotch and rubbed it.
“Whoa! What’s gotten into you?”
"Nothing." I panted, shifting closer to him. "I just missed you today, that's all."
I lunged for him again, licking at his mouth as his hand grabbed and squeezed my ass.
"Shit!" He immediately pulled away when an alarm went off. "That's the chicken. Why don't you go upstairs and shower while I get this ready?"
"But—"
He kissed my cheek and patted my ass. "We can carry this on after dinner. I don't want it to burn." Then, he turned around and grabbed the oven mitts.
I stared at him with my mouth agape as he started to lift the hot pan from the oven. With a heavy and conflicted heart, I turned away and trudged up the stairs.
Once I was in the bathroom, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I took in my disheveled hair, my wide eyes, and flushedcheeks. Disappointment gave way to shame as I realized what I had been about to do.
I may have initiated my failed seduction—but it was Acheron that I truly wanted.
Chapter 14
Acheron
My long fingers dug into the cold countertop. I felt the limestone cave beneath my fingers, felt the rough scraps of marble that fell away beneath my tightening grip.
I forced my body to unwind from the knot of tension that wrapped around my core. It was 7:55 a.m. Alice would be here at 8 a.m. I had her schedule memorized, and if there was one thing about my sweet mate I could rely on, it was her predictability. She was a creature of habit, arriving right on time, and not a minute later.
I raked a hand through my hair as impatience and anger soared through me. My plan to make Alice jealous, to push her into admitting that she wanted me just as badly as I wanted her, had magnificently backfired. I had overcorrected my provocation by forcing her to flee home and immediately try to seduce her pitiful husband.
I almost laughed at the irony. Luckily, her fool of a partner did not take her up on what she was so freely offering. When I hadfelt her desperation, her wanton need, I had been furious. How dare she use him when she most certainly wanted and needed me? My fingers had clutched at a rock, ready to heave it at a window. Anything to get her to stop.
When she had retreated upstairs with the heavy stench of shame and embarrassment cloaking her, I had caught another emotion.
Suspicion. Anger. Resentment.
Except it was not coming from Alice. It was coming from her husband. It appeared that the weak human was not stupid. He knew. He suspected that something was wrong with his wife. I could sense his fear of losing her. His fear of bringing up a subject he knew would cause another argument. He did not want to lose Alice.
Too bloody bad. She was never his to begin with. I was merely taking back what was mine.
I straightened when I heard the sharp bell of the elevator, and I could smell her before she came into view. My nostrils flared as I breathed deeply, letting her intoxicating scent seep into my skin until she was a part of me.
I almost smirked at her look of shock when she rounded the corner and spied me standing behind the gray, black, and white marble countertop.
She schooled her features, her brow smoothing and a film of indifference shuttering her eyes.
It would have been a believable performance, if not for the fact that her true emotions immediately engulfed me. The strength of each feeling wrapped around me like a balm to my soul.
