Page 239 of Devious Lies (Cruel Crown)
I reached several feet away from him when, as if sensing my presence, he glanced my way, sparing me a second of fatal, arresting eye contact before he returned his attention to the bartender, quickly moving on from me as if I were nothing.
I faltered for a moment, both surprised and unsurprised by his reaction. His companion leaned forward, pressing herself against his arm, taking advantage of the split second of eye contact Bastiano and I had shared.
The top of his lip curled up in a scathing snarl. He said something to her that caused her to pout, but she stayed pressed up against him—defiance in her eyes and lust on her lips. I took another step closer, cataloging the situation. This woman was hitting on him. The only difference between her plan and mine was that she had failed first.
Another step and I stood close enough to hear her shamelessly advertise, “I’m not wearing any panties. We used to have so much fun.”
And still. No reaction. This woman was Aphrodite’s reincarnation, and he would know that if he’d spare her the slightest of glances, but he didn’t. Instead, he absently lifted his glass to his full lips, tilted it back, and was met with ice.
She flinched when he slammed the glass down and skimmed his eyes across the top shelf selection of alcohol before returning his accusing glare to the bartender’s back. Irritation swam within the volatile depths of his eyes.
I took another step closer, breathing deeply, loud enough, apparently, to draw his attention again. His eyes ran a leisurely path up my body, causing me to waver until he finally looked away. I forced the hesitation out of me.
You took an oath. You’re doing the right thing. There’s no room for weakness.
A lackluster mantra, but I repeated it anyway.
Closing the distance between us, I placed my hand on his suit-clad shoulder. His muscles rippled beneath my palm, but I dismissed them as I smiled. “Sorry I’m late, babe.”
I ignored his heavy stare, my heart pounding violently as I leaned over him. My chest brushed against his bicep. I ignored that, too, and pressed my lips to his, captured his lower lip between my teeth, and tugged on it.
I waited for him to return the kiss. And waited. And waited. And waited.
Chapter Four
ARIANA DE LUCA
He tasted like spearmint, whiskey, and lemons. Like danger and ruin. Corruption and sex.
I kissed him, but he didn't kiss me back. Instead, he tilted his head to the side so Aphrodite couldn't see our faces, effectively cutting her off from our interaction. He was using me to get rid of her. Hell, I had planned for him to do so.
But this was different.
This was him taking my plan and twisting it in his favor in his way. With his skill. As if it had been his idea in the first place. He wasn’t kissing me back, but he dominated me regardless. I felt it in the pounding of my chest. In the weakening of my legs. In his refusal to Kiss. Me. Back.
He reached an arm around my waist and pulled me closer, still not returning my kiss. His palms explored my hips, curved up to the side of my breasts, then lowered to my ass. He gripped a cheek and squeezed, pulling my body forward and into him, grinding my core on the side of his thigh like he owned me.
His taunts didn’t go unnoticed. Neither did the audience. I got it. I’d kissed him without his permission, so he touched me without mine. And still, he didn’t kiss me back. My lips remained pressed to his lifeless ones, and his hands continued to knead my ass, both of us waiting to see who would cave first. His hand slid from my ass to my front, dipping beneath the hem of my dress.
I took a step back and tore my lips away, mentally cursing myself for using such a stupid, unoriginal, and clichéd approach. I was better than this, but he had made me sloppy. I was lightheaded from his presence—the heavily intoxicating smell of whiskey, oakmoss, musk, and aged ambergris. Drunk from the power he radiated. And dizzy from the viscous tension coursing through my veins.
We waited in silence as Aphrodite tucked tail and ran, silently disappearing into the crowd while our eyes locked in a power struggle he was bound to win.
He already won, I reminded myself as I took another tiny step back, hoping he didn’t notice.
He did.
Amusement touched his eyes before it fled like an alleycat, darting away before I could even process it. Only when Aphrodite was gone from the bar did he return his attention to the bartender's back, dismissing me again, like he had earlier. Like I was worthless.
I felt the dismissal in my gut.
“That’s it?” I kept my voice low and carefully concealed the emotion in it, hoping I didn’t sound as breathless as I felt.
He didn’t respond. I was Aphrodite now, except he had actually looked at me, taken me in, deemed me inferior, and disregarded me. I felt like a flea. A pest. The minnow I had mentally accused Dana, his ex-girlfriend, of being.
In this moment, I knew that Wilks had been right to some degree. I needed the power of my last name. This legend had no chance of surviving otherwise. Not with this apathetic jerk involved.
I took a seat on the stool next to him, far enough away that I felt like I could breathe a little again. “Ariana De Luca,” I introduced myself. “But you can call me Ari.”
