Page 78 of Shattered Veil
You don’t want me.
This is who I am.
On the lower level, I go into the bathroom to wash up and catch my face in a mirror, a face Balor just ejaculated all over. His words ring loudly in my ears. I expect to be horrified with myself. Letting a man do that to me.
But I’m not.
Damn, this is whoIam!
And I love it. I love us—if this is who we can be together.
I consider marching back upstairs and making him finish what he started or at least address what’s going on between us.
That’s what men like him expect. Women to line up and exist in their world on their terms.
I need to shake this guy up.
Shake...
I head to the kitchen to make his smoothie and breakfast only for him.
He comes down dressed in the clothes I laid out for him, and I stiffen my spine, pretending what he did to me didn’t happen, or that it meant nothing to me.
“Here’s your smoothie,” I say to break the silence.
He slips on his glasses and stares at me. Like he’s waiting for me to have some kind of tantrum. We play chicken for a few seconds. Seeing who will crack.
“And I made your breakfast. It’s in the oven.”
“Thank you,” he says quietly.
I blink but don’t break.
“I have Jillian’s notes for the patent applications. I’d like to work from home the rest of the week. If that’s okay with you.” I fold my arms, sounding light and breezy as if nothing happened.
A muscle in his jaw jumps to suggest he doesn’t like when I’m unavailable to him. “If that’s what you want.”
“I think that’s what I need,” I say, rubbing my cheek.
His face reddens. Before he can add any harsh words, I pull my work bag over my shoulder.
“If you need anything else, call me.” I don’t wait for a response and sail out the front door.
I rush to the end of the block before Balor can come looking for me and drive me home himself. Ducking into a deli, I order coffee and an Uber.
Will he fire me? I’m leaving that door open because I want that aide position at Fredricks Elementary.
I might have just forced him to slam that door in my face the way he did in his bedroom.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Balor
“She’s going to kill him,” Lachlan says, holding back his signature cackle.
In the lobby of The Orchid, I watch my sister in a full-length, low-cut, lavender evening gown snap at Trace who’s been, for the lack of a better phrase, up her ass since we arrived.
The idea of him doing anything with my sister’s ass stirs a fire inside me. But Shea’s an adult and knows better than to sleep with one of her bodyguards. That compromises her protection.