Page 30 of Marked By Mayhem

“I just like to be on the vantage point, plus I do have a keen interest in journalism myself.”

“So you control the press?”

“To be precise, yes.”

‘You are… my boss’s boss?” She fumbles with her words.

“If you want to put it that way.” I smile, looking into those blue eyes. “And you have been arguing with him.” This is fun. I can get used to this.

“Perhaps because he is such a selfish idiot.” Idiot. Idiot! She’s calling me names now.

“An idiot?” I suddenly want to laugh and feel my mouth lifting at the corners. She does not look up from her plate. Leaning back in my chair, I observe her poking her fork at the fruit bits. Her moves seem calculated, as if she's trying to unravel some mystery.

It amuses me how she underestimates the situation, thinking she can find an escape route in this. Her naivety makes her alluring. I look at her stout posture. A captive in my own house, yet she retains her sense of dignity.

Does she realize the futility of resisting, the pettiness of her attempts to resist me? The irony of her predicament is not lost on me. I smile and put my elbows on the table, leaning forward, not averting my gaze from her. I see her expression soften and take the chance to lighten the air. I want to see how far she's willing to push the boundaries.

“Do you really hate me that much? It didn’t seem so the other night.” I grin.

Her eyes dart away, and she stammers, attempting to downplay the intensity of her feelings. "It... it was a mistake, and I didn’t know who you were" she mutters, words escaping her lips with a new edginess.

I lean back, savoring the moment. My eyes keep finding their way to her juicy lips. She’s biting her lower one. That’s hot.

"A mistake?" I arch an eyebrow. "I clearly remember you not complaining that night, Miss Hart.”

The flush deepens, and she shifts uncomfortably in her chair. It’s amusing, watching her squirm under the weight of her own embarrassment. I decide to press a little more, reminding her of my gentlemanly behavior.

"Tell me," I continue, my voice lower now, "was I, perhaps, a bit too much of a gentleman for your liking?" That was a mistake on my part. Give me the chance to fuck you again, my dear Ella, and it won’t happen again.

“We can try something different next time…” I look into her eyes and she immediately looks away.

“Stop. I had no idea who you were the other night!” She rebukes. You can do better, Ella.

I snicker. "Exactly. We were just two consenting adults having a good time."

The tension between us crackles, but I don't let up. "Besides," I add, "I don't see the need to hate someone you willingly spent the night with." That too, an enjoyable night.

“Are you always this annoying?” She looks at me, pokerfaced. That’s new, now.

I exhale. "Ah, you can find out. And I have a feeling that you might find me more fascinating than you'd care to admit."

Her response is a cynical glance, accompanied by an audible scoff. "Fascinating? You're not exactly the kind of person I, or anyone, would ever find fascinating."

I raise my eyebrows. “Is that another challenge?”

She leans back, crossing her frail arms. "I'm not buying into whatever game you're playing. Cut it out."

"Maybe you just need a bit more convincing,” I bite my lower lip, imitating her. She blushes. Fuck.

“One reason you don’t find me fascinating. Come on.” I boast.

She shoots me a deadpan stare. "For starters, you kidnapped me. That tends to sour one's opinion of a person." Ouch. Touché. She won’t give in so easily.

I shake my head. "Fair point. Let me make it up to you then." She tucks her hair behind her ear and starts winding a strand around her index finger. Does she realize how attractive she is?

“You can do one thing.”

“And that is?”

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