Page 42 of Wicked Deceit

I glare at my stupid dick with a snarl peeling back my lips. I didn’t think about the whole abstaining from sex bullshit when I laid down the dare. Hell, I didn’t fucking think I’d get a piercing, let alone three. Shit. More pain ricochets, knotting my stomach. Fuck. Need, swirling with dripping desire, courses through me with the urge to sink inside her. Fuck the pain it’s causing me. I need her. Now. My dick throbs, and I curse my fucking luck. Two weeks — I have to last two fucking weeks before I can touch myself and two more after that to fuck her with it. Denying myself this one pleasure will be worth it. I’ll be damned if the next time I get off it will be by my own hand instead of using her perfect pussy. No, fuck that, I’ll wait. Even if it pisses me the fuck off. I’m counting down the fucking days until the Christmas Charity event. By then, me and my dick will be good to go. I can’t wait to see the look on her face when we walk into the presidential suite of the ritzy-ass hotel where my father hosts his events.

I grit my teeth and curl my fists against the computer chair. I will fuck her, but there won’t be any relief for me. It’ll all be for her. Everything is for her. This. That. And everything in between.

I plug in a few more codes on my computer, slowly breaking through to the other side.

“Find anything?” She asks, sprawled out on my bed on her back. Her eyes dance around the room, taking it in, and she huffs when they land on the mysterious black bag I refuse to show her. She wants a peek so bad, and it’s eating her up from the inside out and killing her. But I sure as shit won’t tell her. Not yet, at least.

I smirk, turning back to the computer with massive green and red codes running across the screen.

“Not fucking yet,” I grunt, daring her to defy me. She has that look in her eye. I can see it from here—the one where she wants to disregard anything I say and do what she wants.

The vast blue of her eyes sucks me in every time I stare at her. They project so much on what is going through her head, and she doesn’t even know it. I can read her like an open book, but I’d never tell her that. Her brows furrow, her eyes dart back to the bag, and she sticks her fucking bottom lip out.

“What’s in the bag?” She asks for the millionth time, batting her eyelashes in my direction like it'll make me fucking open it. I'm tempted. But I'll let her continue being a brat and punish her later. “Grumpy. Tell me what’s in the bag, please?” She pouts, folding her fingers together in a pleading gesture when she sits up.

I grin, chuckling to myself. “What’s in the bag?” I hum, mocking her, and turn back toward my computer. I grunt when a pillow catches the side of my head. She crosses her arms and sticks her tongue out at me. “Soon, Vixen. You’ll find out soon enough. Now sit fucking still and let me fucking work,” I grunt, throwing the pillow back to my bed.

“Or what?” she asks in a breathy voice, making my stupid dick jerk again. Down, asshole.

“Or I’ll fucking spank you so hard; you’ll have welts for Thanksgiving dinner. And how fucking awkward would that be?” I raise a brow, and she throws herself back, muttering under her breath. Goddamn brat—my brat.

Taking out my phone, I navigate to our boys’ group chat. Which is fucking ridiculous, if you ask me. But Elf Ears insisted on it, claiming we needed a boyfriend in-laws only group so we could plan shit without her knowing.

Grumpy: Twiddles Dumbs, you almost here?

I scowl at my nickname on the screen. I swear to all things fucking holy, I’m going to drown Elf Ears in his fucking drool. Do you think she’d miss him?

West#1: Yeah, almost fucking there, you impatient bastard!

West#1: Huh… look at that. I am boyfriend #1

TheBestBoyfriendinlaw: Rethink that!

I scowl again, rubbing a hand down my face. I’m surrounded by juvenile assholes who make stupid nicknames on group chats. Well, two can play at that game.

TheBestBoyfriendinlaw’s name has been changed to ElfEars by Grumpy.

There. Take that dickface.

ElfEars: GRUMPYY! WHYYYY?? The elf population is going to track you down now! You’re so insensitive to their kind.

Grumpy: Shut the fuck up, Benoit.

West#2: Wait… why am I number 2?

ElfEars: There’s two of you…..

Grumpy: Not this shit again! Are you fucking here or not? We’ve got something to do.

ElfEars: Why am I always left out of the fun? I’m stuck in humidity, which is giving me swamp ass..

West#1: Swamp ass…..Jesus, I’m so fucking glad I didn’t have to go to Louisiana.

Grumpy: JUST GET HERE!

West#2: Walking into your building, dick.

I shake my head and look back at Kaycee, who inspects me through narrowed eyes. She sits back on my bed and folds her arms. Again.