Page 20 of Tormenting Me

My eyes widen and I whisper, “Oh my God!” He doesn’t laugh. Fuck, I thought to myself, trying to make sense of whether he is being serious. The returning waitress takes our order and sets down cups of coffee. I reach for the cream and sugar and add four of each. Wes picks up the mug of black coffee and takes a sip.

“You’re a psychopath as well, I see.” He puts the cup back down and stares at me with a look of confusion. “Black coffee? Really?” He laughs not just a light chuckle. I’m talking a full-on deep belly laugh, one that makes the corners of his eyes squint.

“If anyone is the psychopath, it’s you, my dear. How much cream and sugar do you need? Is that even considered coffee anymore?”

My phone beeps in my pocket and I pull it out. Three unread texts from Atlas.

Atlas: Bitch, did you make it home okay?

Atlas: You are probably not up yet, but In Flames is doing a show tonight at the Warfield if you want to hit that up. I can grab some discounted tickets.

Atlas: Let me know ASAP.

Shit! I forgot I told Atlas we would go to a show tonight. I look back up from my phone and Wes is staring at me.

“Everything okay?”

I put my phone on the table and grab the mug of coffee. “Mmhm, just my friend reminding me I promised to hang out with him tonight.”

Wes’s eyes narrow, jealousy very present in his body language.

“Atlas is my best friend, and he works with me at the store. He’s definitely not interested in me.” Wes rolls his eyes.

“Hey, not fair that you can roll your eyes, but I can’t,” I pout, pushing out my bottom lip.

“This,” waving his hand up and down at me, motioning to my response, “is why you can’t. You’re a brat, baby. Don’t worry, I’ll fix that.”

My eyes are daggers. “I scratch and bite,“ motioning with my teeth.

He leans across the table, his voice low and husky. “You’ll crawl and beg too.“ He promises, licking his lips. “Don’t mistake my obsession and undying devotion to you as weakness, baby. I fully intend on taming that brat inside you.”

God damn, there must be something seriously wrong with me because my panties are so wet right now and despite still being sore, I would let him bend me over this table and fuck me again.

I clear my throat and adjust my position to get comfortable. I reach for the coffee and take a much-needed drink.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Wes teases, knowing exactly what is wrong.

So in true brat fashion, I stick my tongue out at him.

“Careful, Ma Petite Mort. I can put that tongue to good use if you keep it up.”

“So where is Atlas taking you tonight?“ Poison drips from Atlas’s name as it leaves Wes’s mouth. He still thinks that Atlas is interested and that’s so cute.

“An In Flames concert.” The waitress brings our plates of food, and I reach for the syrup and drench the French toast. The first bite makes me moan, eyes roll back because it’s sinfully delicious. He cuts into his steak and eggs, takes a bite, and then lets out a deep sigh.

“Where?” He inquires.

I lift my head from my plate as I was completely lost in my food. “Huh? Where what?”

“Where exactly is the concert going to be?” He presses for the information.

“The Warfield,” I say, hoping that tames the stalker. He nods his head in acceptance and continues to eat his breakfast. “Until then, you’re all mine, right?”

“I’m free. I don’t have any other plans.” The smile he gives me can break hearts, and I’m sure that he’ll break mine, eventually.

Because you aren’t good enough for anyone. Soon he’ll see that.

“Better text him back then, to let him know you’ll be there.” I grab my phone from the table and shoot off a series of texts to Atlas.

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