She looked up at me and offered me her lips. “Ready when you are, Dragon.”
I slammed my mouth down on hers.
“Good. At least someone is.”Chapter 15
If I had a dollar for every time my siblings listened to what I said, I’d have to borrow a dollar.-Keifer to BlytheBlythe
I knew something was wrong.
He wouldn’t answer my calls. My summons. My pleas.
Nothing.
It’d been two weeks since he’d decided to take up the crown, and in that two weeks…he’d changed.
No longer was he the carefree prince.
Now he was the solemn King who made impressions on everyone just by breathing.
He had to watch his step.
He’d done this for two weeks now, and I knew it was wearing on him.
Badly.
He didn’t joke anymore. He didn’t work at his shop. He wasn’t seen out in public. I wasn’t seen out in public. He hadn’t had sex with me. He’d been in closed door meetings with his mom and those of his inner circle every single free minute of the day—without me included.
Yet, here I was, confused, upset, and to be honest, hurt.
I was receiving no explanations.
None, zero, zilch.
I’d spoken to him for a total of ten minutes a day when he kissed me in the morning and told me he was leaving. Then once again when he curled around me at night.
Something had to give, and it was going to give right now.
Stomping toward the door to the library where all these ‘secret’ meetings were taking place, I blasted my way inside.
I’d gotten pretty good at doing that lately.
What else did I have to do?
That’s right.
Fucking nothing.
Day in and day out, with daytime soap operas playing in the background, I honed my skills.
I’d found that moving objects was the easiest.
Cooling objects off came at a close second.
Something I’d gotten really good at doing, since the terrible trio made me freeze the backyard on an hourly basis.
The doors slammed open with a brutal slam, and Keifer, Ian, Nikolai, Derek (who, might I add, I wasn’t very fond of since he seemed to be the leader of the men taking my man away from me), Ford and Alaric all looked up at the entertaining entrance.
Keifer raised a brow as he sat back in his seat.
It was a nice seat.
I’d sat in it a lot lately while he was out on patrols, trying my damnedest to figure out just what the fuck they were plotting in here without any women around.
Yet, I’d never found anything.
They were good at cleaning up after themselves.
“Blythe,” Keifer said with amusement. “Can I help you?”
I glared at him, then at the men at the table.
“Everybody out,” I ordered.
Brows rose, but nobody moved.
“Tell them to get out,” I told Keifer fiercely.
Keifer shook his head. “I can’t. I’m bus…”
I cut him off when I started to undo the buttons of my shirt.
“Tell them to get the fuck out!” I snarled.
Keifer raised a single brow, calling my bluff.
So I ripped my fucking shirt open.
Buttons spewed across the floor of the library.
The little brass buttons tinkled along the wood floors as they scattered every which way.
I was wearing a bra underneath, of course, but you’d think I’d just exposed my breasts to the president of the United States on national television with the way he roared.
“Get out!”
They got out.
So fast, in fact, that I felt the wind of their bodies rushing out of the room, and the slam of the door following them out.
“What. The. Fuck,” Keifer snarled.
I smiled innocently.
“I’m tired of it,” I said sweetly. “It’s time for you to bring me into the fold.”
“What fold?” He hedged.
I narrowed my eyes at him. Then started stripping my yoga pants off.
Keifer watched me the entire time, staying statue still as he watched the cotton fabric shimmy over my hips to pool on the floor at my feet.
“The fold. The one where you tell me what the hell is going on so I don’t have to be worried all the time. The fold where you spend more time with me and make me feel like you lo-like me,” I told him.
Whoops.
Almost said love.
He hadn’t said that to me, yet.
Not that I’d done it either, but he hadn’t given me a chance to.
Every time the words were on the tip of my tongue, he’d shut me up really quickly.
For instance, if I was in bed with him at night, and I opened my mouth to say it, he’d place his hand over my mouth to still my words.
At first I’d thought it was always by accident, but the longer it went on, the more I realized that it wasn’t an accident.
He’d been doing it on purpose. Yet, I still hadn’t figured out why.
“What are you doing, Blythe? You know I’m busy,” Keifer growled, leaning down until his hands rested on the edge of the conference room table.
His knuckles turned white as he physically restrained himself from doing anything.