Chapter 11 - It’s Not My Fault
Poking above the calm surface of the bathwater, Dylan’s rigid dick continued to respond to Anna’s memory. He stared at it before grabbing it and shoving it back down into the water.
Since he had become like this for the last few days, he had stopped making progress on his plan to kick Anna out of the household. His older brother and his sister-in-law were set to return in three weeks, and once they did, he knew it would become much harder to get rid of her. He knew he had to hurry, but every time he saw her, he would recall the incident and the sensation of her sly tongue, poking out from between her luscious lips, would accost him once more.
Bothering him more than anything else, however, was the fact that he seemed to be the only one incapable of moving on from what had happened. It dealt a heavy blow to his self-esteem. He had meant to crush Anna’s pride, but it was his own pride that had been crushed instead.
Dylan angrily slammed his fists into the innocent bathwater.
Later, after finishing his bath, he went back to his room and immediately climbed into bed. Also in his room was Anna, sweeping the floor with a broom.
His face contorting at the sight of her, Dylan pulled his blanket over his legs and picked up the open book he had left next to his pillow. ‘If it weren’t for David and Carol, I never would’ve paid even a single ounce of attention to someone like you in the first place,’ he thought as he began to read.
However, he kept glancing up at her periodically. She was focused on sweeping the floor and her lips were shut tight. It seemed like that was a habit she had whenever she was concentrating on her work.
Straightening her back, Anna swept her loose hair behind her ears. As she did so, her eyes met Dylan’s, who had been staring directly at her. He was caught off-guard, and, completely surprised, he reflexively covered his mouth with a hand. His expression looked pained.
“What’s wrong?” Anna asked, surprised as well. She rushed to Dylan’s side, throwing her broom to the floor. “Are you hurt anywhere?” Uncertain of what to do, she studied his face and complexion.
Dylan glared at her as hard as he could. “This is all your fault,” he said. If she hadn’t turned around to look at him like that, he wouldn’t have bit his tongue.
“What did I…”
Anna trailed off, eyes drooping low in sorrow. She was being blamed for something she hadn’t even known she had done once more, clueless as to what her transgression could’ve been. At some point, she felt, he might even start blaming her for breathing. How was she supposed to hold up against it all?
After having focused on her work for so long, Anna’s lips felt dry. She licked them, her tongue darting out to sweep across and moisten them.
Dylan began to shout once more, tempestuous. “Stop! I told you to stop!” His face was bright red and fury lay in his eyes.
“What have I done wrong? I won’t ever do it again. Please, just tell me.”
“No,” he said decisively, voice ice cold. “There’s nothing for you to know.”
‘Then what am I supposed to do?’ bemoaned Anna. She couldn’t possibly read his mind. She felt frustrated and annoyed.
“I bit my tongue because of you,” he finally supplied.
Anna really couldn’t understand it. Why did he hate her so much?
“Are you going to tell me to be your tongue this time, Young Master? Or are you going to order me to lick it instead?”
To her, Dylan had once been like a shining beacon of light descending from the sky. He had been the one to allow her to work in the mansion in the first place, and now, ironically, he was trying to chase her out.
He grabbed her arms. “Yes,” he said, and before Anna could even blink, he pulled her into bed with him and set her so that she sat upon his legs, looking down at him. He wanted to test how far she was willing to go. “If you can do it, then go ahead and try.”