Yours Truly: Loving The One I Shouldn’t

Princess Problems

[Maddox]

This was supposed to be a peaceful weekend at the lake house.

Instead, I was stuck sharing a damn cottage with the human equivalent of a walking anger issue.

Edward had dropped the bomb right when we arrived: Damian and I would be staying in the smaller cottage facing the lake, while he and Mom took the main house five minutes away. “You boys need to bond,” he’d said with that politician smile.

Bond. Yeah, right.

I wasn’t happy. At all. After the way Damian had slammed me against the wall a few days ago and basically told me I stole his family, being forced to share breathing space with him felt like signing up for emotional Russian roulette.

Still… I couldn’t stop watching him.

He was dragging his suitcase toward the cottage like it had personally offended him, jaw clenched so tight I thought the muscle might pop.

Part of me; this stupid, protective monster I couldn’t seem to kill, wanted to know what the hell was really wrong with him. Wanted to fix it. Wanted to make that scowl disappear.

I hated that part of me because it confuses the hell out of me.

I kept my distance as we settled in, making sure not to get in his way. The words he’d thrown at breakfast kept looping in my head. Cheating. You stole my family. I hadn’t asked Mom about it yet, but I made a mental note to do it when things weren’t so explosive.

The path to the cottage was dark because Mr. Grumpy refused to turn on any lights. I heard a loud thud followed by a sharp “f**k!”

I clicked on my flashlight and walked over. Damian was sprawled on the ground, his suitcase half on top of him.

Without thinking, I reached down to help him up but he slapped my hand away, hard. “Don’t touch me.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re throwing a tantrum because you tripped? Seriously?”

I tried again, sorry big mistake.

“Jesus Christ, Caldris!” Damian exploded, eyes blazing. “f**k off and stop touching me!”

The irritation that had been simmering in me all day flared hot. I glared down at him and shot back, “Alright, alright, princess. I’m not touching you.”

Damian’s head snapped up. “Don’t f*****g call me that.”

The way he said it, all pissed off and defensive did something dangerous to me. From this angle, looking down at him on the ground while I stood over him… I felt a rush of power. It made my skin heat up. And weirdly, I liked it.

A slow smirk tugged at my lips. I couldn’t help myself. “Alright…” I drawled, letting the word hang. “Princess.”

I watched satisfaction bloom in my chest as his glare intensified. A real smile broke across my face as I turned and walked into the cottage, leaving him there.

I’d wanted to call him that since freshman year, the day I saw the big bad hockey captain nearly sprinting away from a stray cat like it was out to murder him. Now the nickname fit even better.

“A spoiled rich grumpy princess,” I muttered under my breath as I stepped inside.

“I will kill you,” Damian growled from behind me, but I just kept walking.

Unpacking was tense. Damian was fuming the entire time, actually pouting like a brat. It was annoyingly cute. Guess I’d have to use that nickname more often if it brought out this side of him.

Once I finished, I took a quick shower and settled on the couch in the living room with my laptop.

I needed to write something, my fans had been waiting too long and the comments were getting restless. But the words wouldn’t come. My brain was too full of angry hockey captain and complicated family drama.

The bathroom door creaked open and Damian walked out with nothing but a towel slung low around his waist.

His hair was wet, water droplets sliding slowly down his neck, over his defined chest, tracing the ridges of his abs before disappearing into the towel. That sharp V-line pointed like an arrow to sin.

I’d seen him naked before, but f**k… my mouth still went dry. I couldn’t stop staring. Salivating, really.

I was so lost in the view that I didn’t notice him moving closer until he was right in front of me. He bent down suddenly, his face inches from mine, dark eyes locked on me.

His thumb brushed slowly across my lower lip. “Like what you see, Yours Truly?” His voice was low, rough, and way too intimate.

My brain short-circuited. My body reacted instantly, heart slamming, skin tingling, heat pooling low in my stomach. I wanted him to kiss me so badly it was embarrassing. All I managed was a stupid, breathless “Huh?”

Damian’s hand slid to my throat. He squeezed once, just enough pressure to make my breath hitch. I almost moaned but bit my lip hard instead. His eyes flicked down to my mouth, darkening.

His fingers trailed lower, dragging over my chest and abs, then gripping my thigh tightly. My breathing turned fast and shallow. He kept his eyes on mine the whole time as his hand slowly moved higher, teasingly close to where I was already half-hard and aching.

I wanted it. God, I wanted his hand on me. My body was screaming for it, completely ignoring whatever common sense I had left.

Right when his fingers were about to brush over my c**k, Damian pulled back abruptly. He straightened up with a smug, wicked smirk.

“f*****g little slut,” he said smoothly, then turned and walked away like he hadn’t just set my entire nervous system on fire.

I sat there, painfully hard, blue-balled, and breathing like I’d run a marathon.

Fuck.

He’d just earned fresh points to use against me… and the worst part? I liked it. I liked the teasing, liked the power play and how easily he could wreck me.

My c**k was one hundred percent invested in this dangerous game.

I dropped my head back against the couch, groaning.

This weekend was going to be so much worse than I thought.