Page 5 of Volatile Obsessions

“Just because you spark one doesn’t mean I’m going to partake.”

“Please, it’s your birthday. You’re gonna hit it at least once, and then I’m gonna take you home, and hit that.”

Oh no he fucking didn’t.

Whistling at Scott without so much as a cut of my eyes in his direction, I held up the now emptied bottle of Jack and arched an unamused brow at Vic, crossing one leg over the other. “Yeah? Well, it’s unfortunate you don’t call the shots then, huh? I know you like to think you do, since you do so much for me and all, but really, you don’t. I do—a concept you should be quite familiar with by now. We slept together once, Vic. Stop assuming you now have access to my pussy whenever you please.”

“Ouch. Jesus Christ, L, what gives? Who the fuck pissed on your birthday cake before we got here?”

“No one. Was part of your proposition not for me to come to you?” I questioned, examining my currently bright purple stiletto nails that were going to need a fill soon.

“For the first time, yeah.” He sounded incredulous.

“For the first time was not specified when you stated your terms, Mr. Kane, therefore, your objection means fuck all to me.”

Now he looked really offended, ivy green eyes blazing in the dim lighting of the obscure bar. The veins in his neck bulged as he grit his jaw together. “Are you serious,” he spat. “So I can’t come to you, but you expect me to drop my pants and whip out my dick whenever you want? What makes you think I’ll be so willing?”

“Simple,” I stated, taking a swig from the new bottle Scott set beside me seconds prior. “Because you want me, Vic. As a matter of fact, those were your exact words when we discussed your offer in my office.”

“Why do you sound so amused by this? Obviously I want you if I’m taking you to bed.”

“No. No-no,” I laughed out loud. “No. Taking me to bed and wanting me are two different things. You want me, Kane, for yourself, in and out of bed. Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, three-sixty-five a year. You have for a long time. But you wanna know a secret?”

Vic nodded, and while I knew the action was meant to be subtle, I could see the hopeful gleam sparking within his serious expression.

“That’s not gonna happen.” I smirked in satisfaction as his face fell before my very eyes. “You wanna roll around in the sack a few times a week and blow some steam? By all means, fuck me like a rag doll, but I’m not spreading my legs at your beck and call. It’s either my way or you can toss your proposition in the trash and set in on fire, got it?”

Scoffing a laugh, he pushed his stool back in a hurry, one that clearly let on to how disappointed he was by the way it scraped against the floor. His stare remained downcast as he pulled out his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and fished out a few bills, discarding them onto the polished bar top.

“It’s all good, Lux, I got it. And since that’s the case, I’m gonna go. I’ll see you Monday.”

“See ‘ya Monday, baby cakes,” I purred mockingly, flashing him a purposeful wink and all.

Again, he was not amused, but do you really think I gave a shit? Just because I let him fuck me once didn’t mean he was suddenly entitled to screw me whenever he wanted. And this didn’t just apply to Vic. I’d be damned if any man thought he owned me.

No one owned me.

NO. ONE.

Lux Mercier rode solo.

I always had and I always would because there was not one person on this planet who could handle me in all my depraved glory, let alone ride with me until the very end.

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