The Entitled (The Entitled Duet 1)

I hate myself for looking at his toned butt as he leaves. See, as usual, he is a master at turning things around. Well, I’m not eight anymore. I don’t have to do what he wants. I lather my hair and wash myself, mindful of the tenderness between my legs. It’s not horrible, and in a way, it feels good—my reminder that Reed was inside me.

Then it all crashes down. Turning off the shower, I jerk open the bathroom door. Barely covering myself with the towel, I emerge to find him standing by the bed fully dressed in his jeans and T-shirt, staring at his phone.

Asshole.

I drop the towel and march over to him placing my hand over his phone. His fingers stop and his mouth twitches. “I guess I’m not giving you enough attention, right, Kitten?”

“I could have an STD or something worse.” His eyes look at me from top to bottom. I refuse to be insecure about being naked. My looks are the only thing I have to use on him. I put my hands on my hips letting his eyes travel over me.

“I personally assure you that you have nothing to worry about.” He goes back to his phone.

“Unbelievable.” I spin away from him, jerk open my dresser, and grab a pink lacy bra and a matching pink thong.

I tug on my panties. “You have admitted that your sexual history has consisted of high-priced whores. And that is supposed to reassure me?”

“Tess, I said you’re fine.”

I snort.

Shaking his head, he looks down at his phone again. “Fine, I’ll call Dr. Miller today. Have him test me for everything.”

I put my bra on and glare at him. “You know what, Reed? I need time to think about us. This has been a little overwhelming.” Looking around my room, the bed is torn apart and the room smells like Reed and me and sex. I almost inhale but I hate him right now, so I don’t.

He laughs, and his eyes narrow on me. “No, Tess.”

I want to throw one of my shoes at him. How dare he decide whether or not we are together?

“Get dressed. We’re going to see our apartment. If you hate it, I’ll get us a different one.”

Now it’s my turn to laugh. “You are completely delusional. I have no intention of moving in with you.” I lower my voice, realizing I’m starting to get a little loud.

He takes my arms and pulls me until we are nose to nose.

“You’re moving in with me, beautiful. We’re done being apart.” His eyes move over my face. I watch in a blink of an eye how fast he changes. His features soften; his thumb caresses my bottom lip.

“You don’t have to worry about STDs. I have always worn a condom.” He winks. “See you do get all my firsts. Making love with you was the first time I have never not worn one.” He lowers his dark head and lightly bites my lip. “And it was fucking mind-blowing.” His blue eyes sizzle with sexual energy.

“So, since you’re the only one I’m going to be putting my dick inside, you never have to worry.” He gives me another kiss. A ding from his phone ruins the moment as he pulls back to answer it.

I stand there staring at him, completely shell-shocked.

He brings the phone to his ear and glances at me. “Get dressed.” Turning, he walks away. In my closet, I reach for the pale pink dress Brance bought for me recently. It’s short and tight. I turn around and look in the mirror: sexy but still classy. Lana would approve. I slip on some pink ballet flats that wrap around my ankles and return to the bathroom to do my hair and makeup. Dabbing on my French vanilla perfume, I’m so engrossed in my thoughts, it takes a second to notice Reed is gripping the doorframe, silently watching me. The sight makes me ache as I look at his biceps bulging beneath his tight T-shirt along with the tease of his happy trail on display.

Frowning, I bite my lip and try to concentrate on fixing myself. My hair is wild, my lips are puffy, and my cheeks are flushed. Either that or they have razor burn from his five-o’clock shadow.

“I hate your hair.” He sounds bored.

Lifting an eyebrow, I say, “Really?” I turn toward him. “That’s not what I heard. I did this for you. You know how I live to make you happy.” I smile sweetly at him.

His eyes narrow. “Dye your hair back, Tess.” He drops his hands and walks back into my bedroom, leaving me alone. I open my mouth, ready to tell him to fuck off but decide against it. What’s the point? I hate being a blonde anyway. The maintenance is ridiculous.

Quickly I apply my makeup, and since I’m in pink, I try to go natural. I do darken my eyes. The smoky look always works.