Page 23 of Claimed By A Blue Eyed Menace

I grabbed her arm and spun her around, backing her up against the wall in one of the quieter hallways. She glared up at me, breathing hard. “You’re fucking insane.”

I braced my hands on the wall, trapping her between my arms. “And you’re fuckin’ stupid if you think I’m gon’ let some nigga be all up in your face.”

“He’s just an old friend, Sebastian!”

I leaned in closer, inhaling the scent of her perfume, feeling the heat of her body. “I don’t give a fuck what he was. You don’t have no niggas in your face. You hear me?”

Her nostrils flared. “Orwhat?”

I smiled, slow and dangerous. “Or I’ll air this bitch out.” She swallowed, but I saw the defiance still burning in her eyes. I dragged my gaze over her face, down to her lips, then back up. “Get it through your head, Parker. You mine and I don’t share.”

Her chest rose and fell fast, her fists clenched. I let the moment stretch, let my words settle deep. Then, I took a step back, giving her space. “Come on,” I said, adjusting my watch. “We got more shoppin' to do.”

She stood there for a second, jaw tight, body tense, then let out a sharp breath and pushed past me, leading the way. I chuckled to myself as I followed. This woman was gonna be the death of me.

Twenty minutes later, Parker was still pouting. She sat on one of the plush benches inside the designer suit store, scrolling on her phone, her expression tight, her lips slightly pursed in a way that told me she was still fuming. It was funny as hell.

I leaned back in the fitting room, smirking to myself as I shrugged on the black designer suit the associate had brought out for me. The fabric was smooth, fitting like a damn glove. I straightened the jacket, adjusting the cuffs, then slid my feet into the sleek black loafers that completed the look. Damn, I looked good.

I stepped out, hands in my pockets, my chains peeking out against the crisp black button-down I wore underneath. My reflection in the large mirror across the room confirmed what I already knew. I wasn’t just some street nigga. I was a problem—the type of man who could handle business in a boardroom or put a bullet in a motherfucker’s skull without breaking a sweat.

Parker must’ve felt my presence because her scrolling slowed, and when she finally lifted her eyes from her phone, her gaze lingered. She tried to play it off, but I caught it. The way her eyes moved over me, from my broad shoulders down to my chest, then lower to my waist, and finally to my shoes. The way she shifted in her seat, like she was suddenly uncomfortable.

I tilted my head, grinning. “Go ‘head and say it.”

She blinked, her face hardening. “Say what?”

“That I look good as fuck.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You look decent.”

I chuckled, walking toward her with slow, calculated steps. She sat up straighter, but I didn’t stop until I was right in front of her, towering over her as I peered down.

I bent slightly, dropping my voice. “You’ll get the dick in due time. I told you, all you gotta do is act right.”

Her mouth parted in outrage. “Shooter, I swear to God—”

I cut her off with a smirk, standing back up. “Don’t swear to Him, swear to me, baby.”

She scowled, folding her arms. “I don’t want your community dick ass.”

I barked out a laugh. “You lyin’.”

She huffed, turning her head, staring off like she was bored. I shook my head, amused as hell. Parker could fight it all she wanted, but I saw the way her body reacted to me, the way her breathing changed when I got too close. She might’ve hated me, but her body sure as hell didn’t.

I turned back to the mirror, adjusting my jacket. “Yeah, I’ll take this one,” I said to the associate who was standing awkwardly to the side, acting like he wasn’t witnessing the most charged interaction of his life.

The man nodded quickly, his hands clasped in front of him. “Of course, sir. Would you like any other colors?”

“Nah, this one’s good.”

After I changed back into my regular clothes, we finalized the purchase and hit up a few more stores. Hours later, we walked through the exit of the mall. Parker still had an attitude, her pace brisk like she was ready to be done with me for the day.

I let her walk ahead, taking my time, knowing damn well that no matter how much space she tried to put between us, she wasn’t going nowhere I didn’t allow her to go. When we reached the car, she slid into the passenger seat without a word, her arms still crossed.

I grinned as I started the engine, the deep rumble of the Lambo filling the air. “You good?” I asked, amusement laced in my voice.

She stared out the window. “Peachy.”

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