Page 11 of Royally Drawn (Resplendent Royals #3)

Mouse Meet Cat

KEIR

I tried to spend even a moment with Ingrid all night to no avail. Lars wasn’t the top challenger I feared. That was fucking Leah. Wherever I went, she acted like a fence, preventing me from saying anything to the object of my affection. Meanwhile, Ingrid remained a foot out of reach, looking gorgeous in some slinky dress I’d love to throw to the floor.

“What is your deal, Leah?” I asked. “And don’t tell me you’ve thrown your hat in the ring because I swear to God, Natalie?—”

“You can stop invoking my given name right now. I agreed to fucking monogamy with the boyfriend so you can calm down,” Leah agreed. “It’s not that. You do realise that is not how any of this works, right? Get your head out of straight-man sapphic fantasy land, bro. Also, she’s hot but young. I don’t want to teach her everything. And all of that matters not because I’m convinced that girlfriend is straight as a board.”

I backed off.

“I’m cockblocking the both of you because you’re acting like randy high schoolers trying to get her to go to prom with you. One, it’s absolutely fucking ridiculous. Two, it will threaten everyone’s peace when punches are thrown when this blows up. I won’t have that at Cici’s wedding.”

I grumbled, “We’re more mature than that, Leah.”

“Uh-huh. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“It’s true!”

“That’s why you got into a fistfight with Ollie two years ago over a game of Monopoly?”

“He fucking started it!”

Ollie threw the first punch. I may have deserved his ire after embezzling money out of the bank to fuck with him. But it was just a game, right?

She rolled her eyes. “Leave her be.”

I wanted to believe it was a terrible idea. Yet, I also had yet to even look at anyone but Ingrid. The fact that I couldn’t have her only tempted me more. I wanted her. I would have her—even if I couldn’t talk about it. Deep down, I knew she wanted me, too.

Leah left, and I returned to the bar to drown my sorrows alone. By this point, I was annoyed with everyone. To my surprise, Ingrid joined me.

“Oh, hello,” I said. “You want a beer?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t want me to follow you here.” She was suddenly direct. “And don’t pout. I don’t fancy it.”

I chuckled. “Oh, darling, I never pout. Promise.”

“Hand me a beer, please.”

I obliged her, popping it open and handing it over. She took it, then took a long swig, staring straight at me like she had earlier. It was those eyes . Her gaze seared into me. Some sort of electricity always washed over me. She was petite and sweet, but that look was powerful. It lit a fire under me to do more.

“What do you want?” Ingrid asked.

“Nothing,” I said.

“Liar, liar.”

“Okay, I want you. Or rather, I want to make you scream.”

She bit her lip and moved closer. “What makes you think I would do that? Or that you could get me there? ”

“I heard you last night. Last night, when you got yourself off. I heard you lose it. I know I did that to you, even if you dispute it.”

She looked horrified. I’d frightened her, thinking it might excite her. Instead, she stepped back and crossed her arms, not disputing my accusation. Then, she set her jaw, determined. Maybe whatever guilt she’d first felt was rolling off?

“Why are you so cruel to me?”

“Cruel?”

She stepped forward, back to where she stood before.

“Yes. You say these things to get a rise out of me.”

“You like it when I am cruel. It gets you off,” I said, perhaps too defiantly.

She stepped closer now, nostrils flaring. “Do you think you’re the only man in the universe I think about?”

The urge to kiss her overwhelmed me. I wanted to kiss the defiant smirk off her face. I longed to make her melt even if she swore, I was of no interest to her. I knew otherwise.

“I think last night, I got you flustered. You couldn’t help yourself.”

She looked up at me, her chest rising and falling quickly. I took a chance, leaning down to kiss her. I cupped her face in my hand and grazed her mouth with mine. To my surprise, she reacted by wrapping her arms around my neck, hips thrust against me. Before I did anything more, I needed to confirm she was as excited about this as I thought.

“So, Princess, too wet?”

Her face flushed red. She wasn’t thinking back to her fable about kissing.

“The kiss,” I said. “Too wet? Just right?”

Ingrid turned her head, looking overwhelmed. My hand remained on her back possessively, but our bodies began to part. She didn’t want to admit it was good for some reason. I wanted to curse Leah for intervening until something changed. Then, Ingrid turned back.

She was close enough to kiss me again. Grabbing my shirt collar, Ingrid said, “You’d like to fuck me, wouldn’t you?”

Yes, of course ! Saying that wouldn’t square with this little game we were playing. So, instead, I said, “Depends. Are you fun?”

I wanted her to bite her lip the way she had earlier. She leaned closer. I leaned down, our noses almost grazing. I wanted her to kiss me . I favoured assertion over aggression. I only wanted her if she wanted me. The ball remained with her.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Ingrid whispered, then pulled back.

I watched her leave, her heels clicking on the tile floor. She knew what she was doing. She was torturing me.

Touché, princess .