Page 5 of Covetous

He’s right, I do. Esme must’ve told him. Or maybe it was Isabella. “Ian loves it, so I ordered teriyaki beef over rice.” I take a slow sip of my coffee. “Compromise, right?”

The noise he makes is supposed to be a chuckle, but it sounds more like a grunt. “How was the rest of your night?”

Shrugging my shoulders, I blow on my coffee again, surprised by his sudden interest. “It was…all right.”

“Just all right? Did you fake it?” Victor’s expression twists into a mocking smirk as he dares to challenge me with his inappropriate question. His eyes glint with a hint of malice, and I know this is just another game to him. But it’s not a game to me.

My jaw tenses as I struggle to keep my composure, knowing that any signs of weakness will only fuel his fire. “You don’t get to ask me that.”

“Why not? It’s a genuine question.” Victor dares to look confused, but I know it’s bullshit when one corner of his mouth twitches.

“It’s an intrusive question. Not to mention it’s highly inappropriate.”

“But it’s just sex,” he persists, his tone dripping with condescension.

My blood heats as I glare back at him. “It’s not just sex to me. You can’t just ask me whatever you want. Respect some boundaries. Please and thank you.” Fucking asshole—that’s what I want to add, but I try to keep the cussing to a minimum.

“Have you always been this uptight?” he taunts, pushing all the wrong buttons.

My teeth grind together as I try to remain calm. “It’s too early for this.”

“I’ll take that as a big fucking yes.”

“You don’t wanna hear what I think of you,” I snap. Has he always been this obnoxious? What a fucking prick.

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a fuck.” His indifference only stokes my anger. “That’s the difference between you and me.”

I scoff in disbelief. “And you think I care what people think about me?”

“I think it keeps you up at night.”

“The only thing keeping me up at night is your and Esme’s sex noises,” I retort. Why did I say that? It’s like I’m constantly putting my foot in my mouth around him.

He chuckles, the low rumble aggravating my nerves. “Sex noises?”

“Shut up,” I mutter, embarrassed and irritated by his teasing.

“You know I’m only fucking with you, right?” he says with a sly grin.

“Oh, joy.” My sarcasm drips with irritation.

That pulls a smile from him before he hides it behind his coffee mug. Silence settles between us, our eyes locked and my heart racing. Heat floods my cheeks, and I can’t move. I can’t speak. And it’s him who looks away first, but it should’ve been me. It was supposed to be me.

The silence is broken by Esme’s loud yawn as she enters the kitchen, wearing Victor’s T-shirt from the night before. Two purple marks stand out on her light-brown skin, marking where Victor had claimed her last night. “It’s too fucking early,” she grumbles, stepping into Victor’s arms and plucking his mug from his hand without asking.

While they’re having their moment, I take the opportunity to cross the galley kitchen to the counter on the opposite side, giving them some space.

With a wide grin, Victor looks down at her. “Since when do you drink coffee?”

“Since you kept me up all night,” she says, running her hand up his chest.

“I made that for me.” Victor leans down for his lips to meet the shell of Esme’s ear, brushing her curly hair out of the way. “But if you’re a good girl, you can have some.”

Esme tips her head back and laughs, her melodic laughter filling the kitchen. “You told me you didn’t like good girls.”

He grabs a handful of her ass. “You’re right. I don’t.”

That feels like a slap in the face, but it shouldn’t. Why should I care about the type of girls he’s into?

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