Page 31 of Promise of Destruction (Destruction & Vengeance Duet #1)

thirty

Declan

I can't stay away from her.

Watching on the cameras doesn't do what I need it to do. It's a cheap replacement, just like fucking my hand in an attempt to refrain from fucking her yet. But I can't hold off on that forever. She wants me, even just a little, and I'll use that to get what I want.

And what I want is to bury myself so deep inside of her that she can't have a single thought without me being part of it.

It's why I go to her before lunch, drawing her attention from the laptop open before her as she drags elements around the screen.

When she sees me, her eyes fill with irritation, ready for whatever fight I'm about to bring.

"What?" She snaps.

"We're leaving early. There's somewhere we have to be."

Soren only blinks up at me, not comprehending that I'm telling her to get her perky ass out of that chair and put her work away.

"Where? When?"

"Now." I tell her, pressing on the back of the laptop so that it closes, emphasizing the point.

A sigh of frustration rips out of her and she starts to argue before she clamps her mouth shut, shaking her head.

I watch as she stands, gathering her belongings.

When she reaches into her purse for her keys, I shake my head at her.

"You won't be needing those. I'll drive. "

Her suspicion narrows on me. "I can drive myself. Where are we going?"

"You'll ride with me and that's final." I say, striding to the door and pulling it open, waiting to usher her forward. She goes quietly past me, though she does fix me with a stare like daggers as she goes.

I let her in front of me, so that I can watch her ass bounce in the black skirt she has on. The slit in the middle of it is tasteful, but I want to shred it apart.

She looks like she's dressed for a funeral today, and I fucking hate it. After seeing her in color, black just doesn't suit her.

We're silent the whole way to the parking garage, until I click the button on my key ring and the headlights flash.

"That's us." I tell her, nodding toward the gunmetal grey Mercedes.

"I'm aware." She grumbles, crossing her arms as she strides over to the passenger side. "It's been across from my house all week."

"Not all week." I argue. Just most of it.

She doesn't dignify that with a response as she slinks into her seat and immediately crosses her arms over her chest.

I push the button to start the ignition but turn to her before taking it out of park.

"What?" She glowers after a minute of my waiting.

"Seatbelt." I tell her, my eyes flicking over her shoulder as if she has no idea where a seatbelt would be.

"I don't wear one when I'm in the passenger seat." She says simply, like that's the end of the conversation.

"Well, you will wear one when you're with me. Not negotiable."

"Then I can drive myself." She snaps, her fingers already on the door handle. I engage the locks before she can open it, which earns me a venomous glare.

"Seriously?" She growls, moving to find the unlock button. If she wants to see who can be more stubborn, I'll gladly show her. I hit the locks again and she tenses, turning to me like she would smack me if she wasn't worried about retaliation.

"You ride with me, and you wear your seatbelt, or we will stay in the parking garage all day locked in this grudge match."

"Then wherever we're going must not be all that important." She smirks, leaning back against the seat and looking at me like she thinks she's got me in check.

In a battle of willpower, I'm certain I'd win. Spending the afternoon by her side is not the punishment she seems to think it is.

"It is," I tell her, reaching over her.

My entire upper body crosses into her space as I reach for the seatbelt, and I feel her tension and panic as she demands, "What are you doing?"

I don't answer her, appraising her face as I reach above her shoulder and tug on the seatbelt.

She doesn't even realize what my goal was until the click confirms I've buckled the seatbelt for her, since she won’t do it herself.

I tug on the slack for good measure, locking her in place.

Her fingers move immediately to the release, but I stop her with a hand over hers.

"If you so much as touch that seatbelt, I'll tie you up in the backseat and fuck you until you pass out. And when you wake up, I'll still be fucking you."

Her eyes widen in horror, but I can see what she tries so hard to deny. I see the way her pupils dilate just a little, the way her lips part like an invitation to make good on her promise.

" Please tempt me, little bird. I'll take great pleasure in your hot little pussy... and the sounds you'll make when the seatbelts dig into your perfect skin."

She sets her jaw and takes a deep breath that makes her chest swell.

When she doesn't fight me, I smirk and drop back into my own seat, adjusting the collar of my shirt before taking the car out of park.

To my disappointment, Soren doesn't tempt me to make good on my promise. She's silent the whole way to the office, and her fingers don't so much as jump against the seatbelt. In fact, when I pull into a spot in front of the shiny glass building, she just looks at me in confusion.

I release the seatbelt for her before stepping out, and beat her to opening the door for her too.

She glares at me when I hold a hand out to her, but her eyes don't stay on me for long, searching for any clues about where we are.

When she finds none, she pushes my hand away and climbs indelicately out of my car.

"What is this place?" She asks, apprehensive as we walk together to the door, which simply states Covington Medical Complex. When she reads those words, she comes to a halt, glaring at me. "Declan?"

"It's just a doctor's office." I explain. "You don't have a recent physical on file, which is required for both your health insurance and your life insurance policy."

"No." She shakes her head, stepping back in her heels so that she teeters, losing her balance.

I catch her below the arm, surprised by her sudden dread.

I know plenty of people who don't like visiting doctors, but being scared of them is another thing.

Her face is pale, like all the blood has drained from it.

"Relax." I tell her, holding her against me with a hand on her hip. Apparently, doctors rank higher on her dislikes than I do, because she allows me to hold her like that, not bothering to push away from me. "They're not going to hurt you. They're going to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine." Her wide eyes plead with me to take her back, and damn if part of me doesn't want to. But I wasn't lying when I told her why I brought her here. I mean, not entirely .

"What are you so scared of little bird?" I muse, searching her face like she might just crack and give me answers.

"I don't like hospitals. I don't like doctor's offices. I don't like being poked and prodded and feeling like a lab rat."

"We can get ice cream when we leave if you're good.

" I tease, unable to resist. I expect her to snap at me or to stay rooted to the spot, but she just shoots me a glare of bloody murder and stalks forward, throwing the door open without waiting for me even though she has no idea where we're going.

"Ice cream does it for you?" I muse, leading her to the elevator and calling it down to us.

"Let me guess. You're a cookie dough girl? "

She ignores me, all the way up to the fourth floor, to the doctor's office, and up to the reception desk, where I sign her in and hand her the paperwork the receptionist needs.

"A gynecologist?" She hisses when we make it to the corner of the room, away from the women working behind the desk.

"Are you really that sick? You going to get off on a doctor shoving his hand up my vagina? "

The fact that she thinks I'd let another man lay a hand on her, let alone inside of her, makes me laugh. She clearly doesn't know me at all.

"I won't be going in with you."

And maybe I don't know her at all, because I don't expect that to make her anything other than relieved. Instead, her face pales further.

"Declan..." She swallows. "You're going to make me go back there alone?"

I blink at her.

It's the gynecologist. It's not like I'm sending her alone to a seedy tattoo parlor or a crack house. "You want me to?" My eyes dart back to the office door. Is that even allowed?

"I don't want to go alone." She says, her voice shaking.

"Okay," I nod. "Don't worry. I'll be wherever you need me to be, okay? Just fill out the paperwork so we can get you out of here, okay?"

She stops her lip from wobbling by pulling it between her teeth and nods, turning to focus on the questionnaires before her.

I don't peek, unbothered because I'll have her medical history soon enough anyway.

The room is silent other than the sound of her pen scratching over paper and the ambient noise of the television, which I pretend to watch as she completes the paperwork.

Nearly as soon as she does, the office door opens and they call her back.

Her eyes flash to me, desperation burning there.

"Please." She says, and it's all the invitation I need.

If she wants me beside her for something so intimate, I'm guessing she trusts me more than she's let on.