Page 93 of Arianna

The same man who has breathed life back into me without realizing it.

He has ruined me.

This I know.

Not wanting to dwell on how this beautiful condescending man has crept inside my brain and taken permanent residence, I think carefully about my next move.

I think of every possible outcome before finally moving my king pawn forward to e4, opening room for my queen to move diagonally. Sebastian quickly moves his piece, and then I capture his advanced pawn by attacking the diagonal.

He can’t be serious.

I am angry now.

This man…

I watch as his thick fingers move another piece allowing me to move my queen and pin his king.

And that’s game over.

Checkmate.

“Well, look at that.” Sebastian laughs as he sits back, his eyes not leaving mine once. “You beat me.” His grin widens when I narrow my eyes at him.

The big fat faker.

“You damn well know you let me win, Sebastian.” I sneer. “Don’t do that again. Don’t patronize me. You know you stole me the glory of beating your ass fair and square.” How can someone be so sweet and such an ass at the same time?

Sebastian. That’s who.

That definition would be right under his name in a dictionary.

Big fat faker. Right next to condescending, narcissistic, overbearing, and infuriating.

Don’t forget otherworldly handsome… My inner voice chips in.

Not now.

Suddenly, the grin on his face disappears before he opens his mouth to speak. “Losing in any form displeases me just as much as being accused of something I did not do.” He leans back on his seat with his thighs spread wide, my eyes instantly going to the bulge between his legs. Narcissistic jerk. God, what is he doing to me? “Besides.” There’s a smile in his tone when he catches me looking where I shouldn’t be. Dammit. Heat creeps up my neck, tinting my cheeks pink, I am sure. I act indifferent, as if nothing happened. As if I didn’t just notice his erection. As if this verbal spar between us did not turn the man on and send heat shooting between my legs. Sebastian raises his perfectly shaped left eyebrow while he plays with his watch. “I am not the kind that would let you win to spare your feelings. It serves you no good.”

In his weird way, the man is right. Throwing the game does nothing for me.

It does not help me improve at all.

Knowing he threw the game and now he is just talking out of his ass, I let it go because he won’t ever admit that he did throw the game so I could win.

How odd…

I will never stop learning something new about this man, and every day that passes, I find myself hoping I can peel off more of his layers to discover what is underneath the man the world sees as a playboy politician with plans on conquering the world.

A small grin pulls on my face, and I breathe out, “Asshole.”

“Watch that mouth, or I will be teaching you another type of lesson.”

My breath hitches when the suggestive words slip from those plump lips of his. We both stare at one another for what feels like a lifetime. I am too stunned to form a proper sentence, and he stares at me, waiting to analyze my reaction to his comment.

These moments are uncharted territory for me. I feel a lot. So damn much, but I never know how to put what I want into words, all because of what it means to give this manpower over my emotions and actions. The fear…

Yeah, that too.

---