PULSE [H.S]

106

"The way her body existed only where he touched her. The rest of her was smoke." — Arundhati Roy

"Where'd you hide that dildo of yours, baby?" he asks.

The words make me freeze, and heat rushes to my cheeks as the embarrassment washes over me. I don't know why I ever told him that I had one of those when I knew he would just use it against me eventually. Or maybe that is exactly why I told him.

I bite my lip, trying to keep the grin off my face. I lie, "I forget."

He raises an eyebrow. "You forget?"

"Yep."

Fuck, the way he is looking at me is making me nervous.

"How convenient," he says, his hands sliding down to grip my ass. "I guess I will have to prove it to you another day then, when your memory clears up."

He throws me off him, pushing me back onto the couch and removing his hands from me completely. I gape at him, stunned.

His tone returns to normal. As he grabs the TV remote, he says, "I think a new season of Hell's Kitchen has started."

I grumble, "I dislike you."

"What's it on?" he says, looking through the streaming services. "Prime? Ah, Hulu."

I cross my arms over my chest, narrowing my eyes at him.

His gaze slides to me. He tilts his head, saying, "Would you rather watch something else? Judge Judy might be—"

"You're so annoying," I say, standing from the couch.

He grabs my wrist as I try to walk away. He puts on that seductive voice again. "You don't have to leave, baby."

I hesitate, trying to read his face. "No?"

"No," he says, his thumb rubbing circles on my wrist. Then his lips break out into a smirk, and he says, "We can watch something else. Maybe 'Revenge of the Sith'? I know Anakin Skywalker really gets you going in that one."

I rip my arm from him and shoot him an icy glare. I hiss, "I'm going upstairs. I don't need a man when I have a dildo, anyway. Have fun getting off to Gordon Ramsey."

Again, I start walking towards the stairs. His arms snake around my waist, and he pulls me back onto the couch, dragging me right over the arm of it and back onto his lap. He looks incredibly pleased with himself.

"You're not going anywhere, pretty girl," he says, his tone more believable this time. "Now, if you are done playing a game you know you will never win, how about you be a good girl and go fetch that infamous dildo for me?"

I clench my jaw. "I don't fetch. I am not a dog."

"Maybe not," he says, pulling his lip ring between his teeth, "but you still always come for me."

I roll my eyes, but I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing. "You think you're so clever."

"Always so stubborn," he hums. His hand grasps my jaw, his thumb gently stroking my cheek. His dark eyes burn right into mine as he says, "I thought by now you'd know better than to disobey me before I even get started with you."

I swallow hard.

He's right, I am stubborn, and now this feels like a battle. It's a battle that I can't win. I either cave and give him the satisfaction of doing what he says, or he doesn't touch me. He always fucking wins.

He smirks at me as if he can read my thoughts. "You're stuck in a hole you dug for yourself."

"You don't get laid either if I don't give in to you," I point out. It's a weak attempt to reclaim some power.