𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ✔️

♡ Chapter 7 ♡

I throw the pillow with all my strength at Nic's head.

He slowly looks at me over his shoulder while the pillow falls to the floor. No, he doesn't look at me. He gives me a death glare.

"Why the hell did you get a room with only one bed, moron?" I cross my arms and ask.

I was trying to appear mad, although I thought it was better for my plan. 

After that chaotic dinner party - if you can even call it that, we decided to sleep at a motel and head back in the morning. 

"Do you know what one is? It's this," I hold one finger up. "And is this two."

He walks over to me and grabs my hand holding up two fingers, jerking me toward him, and making the front of my body hit his. He continues to hold my wrist as he looks down at me, "There were none left. I know you're daddy's little girl and spoiled, so you're not used to having to share. It's just for one night."

Daddy's little girl. The words hurt my heart, and as much as I tried, I couldn't keep it off of my face. He seemed to notice this, his face shifting to a softer and more curious expression. 

I scoff in his face and wipe the hurt off of my face, "Just one night? God, I want to die."

"I could have you dead in 5 seconds," he stated like a fact. 

"Not fast enough."

I pulled my wrist out of his grip, but stayed exactly where I was. With the front of my body touching his. My eyes wander around his face. Being this close to him, I can smell his minty shampoo. His eyes still look light, even though the lamp barely lit up the room. And his lips were tight, as well as his jaw. He was on edge.

"Something distracting you?" his words made my eyes snap back up to his, since I was staring at his lips. 

I swallowed my saliva, "No."

"Lying doesn't look good on you," he put his thumb under my chin and tilted my head up. 

His eyes felt like they locked mine on his. Like I couldn't look away. 

"I'm not lying. There's not a single thing about you that could distract me."

He smiled, leaning forward to my face and speaking bitterly, "Same here."

My eyebrows moved up and my lips parted, almost in an 'oh, yeah?' way.

Slowly, I dropped the sleeves of my shirt off. His jaw ticked, but he didn't look down. 

"I don't know what you think you're doing, but stop it," he tried to order me.

My boobs were the only thing keeping my shirt from falling down. I maintained eye contact the entire time, as I undid the front button of my jeans. I spoke innocently, "Come on, husband. No need to be so snappy."

Something hard pressed against my stomach. I gasped slightly.

The motherfucker was hard.

"You couldn't handle sex with me, Celeste," his lips skimmed mine as he spoke. 

My eyes went from his lips, to his eyes, "Yea. Because I'd die of boredom."

He put his hand in my hair, burying it deeply into it. He grabbed a fistful and yanked my head to the side, leaning down and pressing his lips against my neck. My brown eyes widened in shock as he kissed my neck, and something grew in my chest. Something warm. 

I felt myself wanting more. But he removed his lips. 

"You're used to winning," he spoke against my ear, his stubble skimming me. "But not this time."