Page 53 of Lorcan's Obsession

"I am, now that you are here."

Her lips curled into a knowing smile. There was no way I was okay after watching another man kiss my Tristen. I’d been fucking rattled, simmering with anger that bubbled under my skin like an ulcer.

"I'm sorry about Mars. I mean, Marion. I made sure he won't try that for another decade, perhaps?" She laughed, trying to soothe me. She would have had more luck waving a heater in Siberia. “You can’t be mad at me, Lorcan. I have no control over how other people react to me.”

“He fucking kissed you!” I growled.

“Not really. Besides, I slapped him and told him never to do that again.”

“You did?”

She smirked and jerked her chin proudly.

“I still want to go out there and punch him.”

“You can’t do that, Lorcan. He is like family.”

“He wants what’s mine.” I punctuated each word gruffly.

Tristen stood in a speechless stupor, like I’d knocked the wind out of her. She had just wanted a weekend of mind-blowing sex, and I’d gone and made a declaration of alpha-hole possessiveness. Not my best play, but I couldn’t lie. The words were out there, and I would stand by them.

Her green eyes softened, hunger and yearning reflecting in them. “It’s you I want. Not him.”

Tipping her chin with my finger, I claimed her mouth with urgency. Her admission caused my inner lion to roar proudly, and I wanted to wipe any taste of that guy from her lips and replace it with mine.

The door creaked. "Kids,” Mario’s charred voice interrupted us. “Come with me."

I gripped Tristen’s soft hand as we made our way back to the restaurant floor. There was no fucking way I was leaving her side while Marion was bumbling around and sneaking kisses. I shot the blond twerp a frosty look as he carried steaming plates of food to the table.

The old man chuckled and wrapped an arm around Tris’s shoulder. "Come, sit with me, my dear."

Just like that, it was middle school again. I had to sit next to my fucking nemesis: Marion. Sensing my displeasure, Tris took some rösti, dipped it in the fondue, and stretched her hand across to me with a smile.

"Open for me?"

I knew Marion would be looking. With a twinkle of mischief in my eyes, I struggled to fit it all at once, then licked and sucked her finger when she pulled out.

She whispered, "Behave."

"I won't. Punish me later." I winked.

Tristen knew exactly what I was up to, yet she endured my inner child to shine in the battle of morons. She treated me like I was her spoiled little kid in front of everyone at the table, feeding me a bit of everything that had been made especially for her.

Watching the three of them joke, tease, and reminisce with each other about when they were younger, I couldn’t ignore the love and adoration they held for my Tristen. Time had not diminished this affection; if anything, it had strengthened it to overflowing. For her sake, I had to try and get along with Marion. Plus, I was interested in the "keeping thy enemy closer" kind of approach.

"So Marion, what do you do when you are not trying to beat your dad at being the best chef?"

"Trying? Who said trying? I'm better than the old man already," he answered smugly.

"Okay, what’s the one dish you’ve made better than your dad and got compliments from other people for?" I demanded cooly.

Silence.

Tris stared.

Mario held his breath.

I waited with bated fucking joy.

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