Not only is he not growing bored of me, but he’s also extending the amount of time I spend in his company.
Now, he fucks me longer and won’t let me leave until the early hours of the morning, so I’ve started going back to the flat at near dawn.
He never asks me to stay the night, though. Never fucks me unclothed, and never steps in the shower with me.
That’s his way of creating distance between us and letting me know that I’m nothing more than his fuck toy. One he enjoys chasing and fucking, but never one to hold in his arms or show affection to.
He cooks for me, cleans me afterward, and even carries me in his arms to the cottage, but that’s the extent of his affection. Or the lack thereof.
At the start, I refused to admit that his treatment of me after sex is the reason for the bursts of emptiness I feel sometimes. I don’t even like Jeremy.
I don’t.
Not even if he buys me special editions of my favorite mangas, lets me talk about whatever subject I’m studying, and fixes me delicious dishes.
I certainly wouldn’t grow a soft spot for him because he makes each of my sexual fantasies come true. Or admit that he’s slowly allowing me to grow into that part of myself and accept it as a fragment of who I am.
While I enjoy the sexual part of things and how he pushes every button inside me, I’m well aware of who Jeremy Volkov actually is.
I know of his mafia legacy. While I’ve been dreaming of helping others as Mum does, he’s set to be a leader for blood-fests.
We don’t speak or think the same things. He’s too emotionless, and I’m too caring. He lacks empathy, while I feel it more than need be.
Jeremy and I are doomed for disaster, but don’t they say toxic relationships have the best sex? Though we’re not in a relationship.
I don’t even know what to call the thing we have.
It’s something, but I’m not sure what.
And because we’re not in a relationship, I shouldn’t have let Ava drag me to the fight club to watch him.
Or more like to watch the semi-finals. Between Jeremy and Landon.
I’ve been on edge ever since I heard those two would fight, but I never thought it would be so nerve-racking in person.
The buzzing crowd from our university and TKU don’t help. Noise, chatter, and bets made under the table mix in a symphony of chaos.
I’ve never liked these scenes, but Ava has a thing for watching men clash.
And I don’t have the heart to let Ava come on her own. Glyn loathes violence and never comes here if she can help it, not to mention she’s probably busy with her boyfriend, Killian.
As for Anni, well, she’s occupied with her own romance, too. Besides, she’s forbidden to set foot here under her tyrant brother’s orders.
I swear he enjoys ordering people around. Whenever I attempt to defy him, he turns up the crazy a notch to put me back where he thinks I belong.
Ava punches her open palm, craning her head in the direction of the fighting ring. We’re in the second row on the side, so we have an excellent view, all thanks to her ticket-purchasing talents.
“May Lan beat that arsehole to a pulp and free Anni of his dictatorial reign. Amen.”
I inch closer to her when some guy bumps into me. Ava shoos him away and takes my place, so I’m near the wall. My friend knows full well that I don’t like to be touched, especially suddenly or by strangers.
You don’t mind being fucked to within an inch of your life by Jeremy.
“I don’t hear your amen, Cecy.” Ava gasps. “Or do you want Jeremy to win?”
“What? Of course not.”
I don’t even know what I’m doing watching this match.