Page 57 of A Deviant Queen

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MILASTANDSINFRONT of me, tall and confident, while I gape at her like a moron. Bastian sits on the bench beside the ring, watching our interaction, making sure I don’t make a wrong move.

Part of me wants to squash whatever animosity’s looming between Bastian and me, but the other part wants to see Mila more often. The depths of those wicked green eyes call to the darkness I suppress, and it’s intoxicating.

I have no doubt Mila can handle herself. The woman seems smart enough to not put herself in situations she can’t handle.

I told Bastian about running into her on the street in the hopes of making peace for my sister’s sake. Xana is partial to the stupid fuck and thinks he’s good for me. Since she’s on the other side of the country at a prestigious university, there is no sense in making her worry.

Bass loves to call my sister and let her in on whatever I’m getting into. She’s all I have, so I continue to put up with his bullshit for her.

“Don’t think you can take me, pretty boy?” Mila scoffs.

Eagerness shows in her body language, while her facial expression reflects that confidence.

No fucking way am I going to do this with her.

“Oh, I know I can take you,” I shrug. “I don’t hit women.”

Something sinister flashes behind her eyes before the following words come out of her mouth.

“Don’t worry, you won’t have the chance,” she volleys with a wink.

The challenge in her voice nearly sends me to my knees.

“If you want to touch me, babe, all you have to do is ask,” I smirk.

I instantly regret my words. Mila rolls her eyes and gets to work, pinning her hair up and exposing her long neck. Curly tendrils escape her bun and fall around her face.

I watch as, under the good lighting, her toned body flexes with her movement. Mila is a perfect mix of curve and muscle. My mind wanders as I watch her. What would she feel like under me? Under my control? Fuck, what I wouldn’t do to touch every inch of skin on her perfect body.

My dick twitches and I snap out of my dirty fantasies before Bastian catches me slipping. I shift my gaze to anywhere but the woman standing in front of me.

“Let me prove to you I can take care of myself,” Mila’s voice is an almost plea, which catches me off guard. “Should you see me out again, you can leave me the hell alone.”

Neither Bastian nor I thought Mila would agree to this. We both figured she’d get pissy and leave. I should’ve known she’d see this as a challenge and not back down. I’d compared her stubbornness to my own, but clearly, I was wrong.

Mila didn’t have to prove anything to me, and she could’ve walked away. Instead, she’s ready to put me on my ass.

Or so she thinks.

“If you win, you can grab my ass,” Mila says.

Her suggestion throws me off, but I imagine I deserve that. I have been an arrogant dick to her most of the time. Not convinced about this little thing going on between her and Bastian, I’ve laid myself on her pretty thick.

“If I win, you kiss my feet right here.”

She’s lost her fucking mind if she thinks I’m going to kiss her feet. I look over at Bastian to see if he’s paying attention to any of this, but I guess he got bored because the fucker’s attention is glued to his phone.

Mila must have noticed. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have suggested something like that. She was fucking with me, trying to bait me since calling out my pride didn’t work.

“I’m many things, Mila, but that’s just low,” I say.

Running my hand down my face, I shake my head. I’m becoming agitated by her taunts, and the last thing I want is to become enraged by her. Teaching her to defend

herself is one thing, but she and I aren’t evenly matched. Not even close.

To go against everything I can throw at her, she would need some sort of training first. But she has something to prove here.

“Pussy,” she taunts.


Tags: Charli Owen Romance