Chapter 17

seventeen

Olympia

It’s been a hell of a week. By hell, I mean it’s been insanely busy—and insanely—um, arousing.

Who knew playing at being my biggest enemies’ fake girlfriend would leave me so hot and bothered at the end of the day? But with the way he touches me when we’re out, stealing kisses, inhaling the scent of me as he whispers dirty things in my ear that make me blush, well, hot and bothered is definitely the definition of me.

And then there are the times when we’re alone.

If I didn’t know better, I’d think Tav is trying to turn me on. Trying to push me.

I just don’t know why he would. I already told him I won’t sleep with him. That I don’t trust him enough to give that part of myself to him. So, what is he pushing for?

Argh, I can’t think straight. My mind is too muddled by fantasies of him touching me. My thoughts are too torn. I know I should be keeping my feelings separate from this game we’re playing, but it’s hard. This game is new. But I’ve always had feelings for this man.

God, I think the man is trying to kill me. Really, truly, kill me. I’ve never been this horny in all my life. I think about him touching me every second that I’m alone. Even my morning yoga isn’t calming me down. I mean, it’s yoga. Shouldn’t it calm me down?

My body feels like it’s constantly hovering at the edge of something.

I’ve tried to work out the ache, and I’ve failed. Masturbation has never been my thing.

One, Remira had a habit of walking into my room unannounced. The thought of her catching me doing that—it just wasn’t worth it. She beat me after a boy stole a kiss. I can only imagine what she would have done if she’d caught me with my hand between my legs.

But I’m not at home anymore. There’s no chance of Remira walking in on me here.

So, two nights ago while it was particularly bad, and my fingers hadn’t done the trick—probably mostly because I don’t know what I’m doing down there—I ordered a toy. I’ve never played with a toy, but it comes with satisfaction guaranteed. I’m guessing an orgasm is what they mean by satisfaction, and since that’s what I want—no, that’s what I need—I dipped into my savings for it.

It should be here tomorrow.

I can’t wait.

If I have to go another day feeling like this, I think I might explode. Or I might do something stupid. Like proposition my asshole fake boyfriend, if that’s what he is.

I don’t even know what he is. But I do know propositioning him to have sex with me would be a mistake. Considering I’ve propositioned him once already in a not-so-classy way, and he rejected me, I don’t foresee him taking me up on a second proposition.

Even though I’m beginning to suspect he wants me aroused, and frustrated, and not thinking clearly.

Maybe he thinks if I’m not thinking clearly, I’ll mess up. But I won’t mess up. I have way too much riding on this. Way too much at stake. My whole life is riding on winning this bet, because without him, I’ll end up back at home. If I end up back at home, I’ll end up with Darius.

I would rather die.

I would rather take my own life under my own terms, because I know if I become Darius’ wife, he’ll kill me. It might not be quick or soon, but it will happen. Eventually.

The thought sobers me, stealing the warmth from between my legs.

It’s a terrifying reprieve.

I never should have made this bet to begin with, but without this bet, there would be no hope of a truce. I’m not sure I could have lived under the same roof as Tav for the next fourteen months, as he voiced how much he hates me every day.

Since the start of this truce game a week ago, he hasn’t once told me that he hates me. He hasn’t once told me how much he wants me gone.

We haven’t talked much at all. Actually, it’s all been physical. Slow touches. Rough hands on soft skin. His lips on my throat, my bare shoulder, my mouth. His taunting smile against my skin. And all in public, with eyes studying our every move.

I never expected I would accompany Tav to so many things, or that he would be so busy.

I thought rockstars would lead a leisurely life, but he doesn’t. He has photoshoots, and contracts. He meets up with the guys to record and to write. He has event obligations, and party appearances to make. The man does not lead a leisurely existence.

He’s everywhere all the time. Because we’re playing this game, and the world thinks I’m his, I’m there beside him for all of it. No, he doesn’t really need me there. Not for the photoshoots, or the recording sessions, but he brings me along, anyway.

He tells me it’s for the show, but I think he just likes messing with me. He knows he’s thrown my equilibrium off balance, and he likes it. He’s a devil. Really, he is.

Still, I don’t mind going. I should, but I don’t.

Dangerous as it is, I like to be around him.

I focus on the avocado I’m mashing with a fork, avoiding Tav with everything I have as we prepare for the night ahead. It’s our turn to host, and since we were rained out of the last pool party, today, it’s all about the pool. I’m exhausted. Even Remira didn’t keep me this busy. Still, there’s no way I’m backing out of this.

Backing out would mean he wins, and I won’t let that happen.

In preparation for the party, I ordered a swimsuit and sexy wrap from Laurier Lines, with the intent to drive Tav mad. It’s only fair, considering I’ve been hot and bothered for an entire week.

From the other side of the counter, Tav’s deep voice breaks the silence. “You need to up your game, Princess, you want to win that car.”

My head snaps up, the fork pausing mid-mash. “What? There’s nothing wrong with my game.”

“I disagree.”

My mouth drops. How can he disagree? I’ve been at the man’s beck and call for a week.

“I’m pretty sure everyone thinks we’re totally into each other.”

He smirks. My hand curls into a fist around the fork.

“No. They think I’m into you.”

I blink. “Pardon me?”

His eyes drift lazily over my face, that smirk still in place. Agitation rattles in my chest. “I’m the one who can’t keep my hands off you.”

“W—well,” I sputter. “It’s not like I’m pushing your hands off me.”

“Yeah. But it’s not like you’re eager to touch me, either.”

Well, that’s not true. Not entirely.

My voice sounds hesitant. “You want me to not be able to keep my hands off you?”

He shrugs. “Personally, I prefer you lose, and we can get this whole thing over with.”

Ouch.

“That’s not going to happen. So, consider yourself disappointed.”

He chuckles, and like it’s a dare, mutters, “We’ll see.”

I stew over his words for a minute as I decimate the poor avocado. Then, when the agitation gets the better of me, I huff, “I don’t know how to play the seductress.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have made this bet then, Princess.”

Why is he such an asshole?“Fine. I’ll touch you more. Happy?”

“Nope.” But he’s grinning, so I really can’t tell.

Does he want me to touch him?

I don’t have time to get into the nitty gritty of that chaos as the doorbell chimes. Tav watches me with that maddening grin still in place, not moving to answer.

I glare. He winks, not dropping the smirk even a fraction.

I pout and he chuckles.

But it’s when he says, “Let’s get this show on the road,” that I know I’m well and truly screwed.