My Dark Prince: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Dark Prince Road)

Revenge was a dish best served cold.

Mine would be served on an ice cream platter.

When Oliver returned home with takeout he’d driven an hour for, he found me in the kitchen scooping homemade coconut and honey ice cream into a waffle cone I’d dipped inside white chocolate and coated with sprinkles.

I shoved it in his face, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “All yours.”

The mere sight of him after four days of not seeing him left me wheezing. He was so gorgeous in his casual black V-neck and smart slacks. And those veins that zig-zagged up his forearms, and the hint of his six-pack through his shirt, and god, those well-built limbs.

Okay. I was extremely sexually frustrated simply knowing this man existed in the same zip code as I did, let alone the same roof. But that didn’t mean I’d forgive him just for being hot.

Ollie’s eyes tapered. He flicked them down, studying the cone. “What’s the catch?”

I topped it with a cherry. “No catch.”

He folded his arms with a frown, which made his biceps pop even more. “Everything okay?”

“Fantastic.” I smiled from ear-to-ear. “Please, let me know what you think about my ice cream. It’s a special recipe.”

“A special recipe that includes arsenic trioxide and phosgene?” He scanned my face, looking for anger or annoyance.

I didn’t mention anything about the New York Times article to him, not that I’d seen him in days. The afternoon I’d found out about it, he’d dropped off my udon and fled before I could confront him.

“Come on.” I pouted. “Where is the trust?”

“Not with the woman who painted two dicks on my face with a super-strength Sharpie just last night while I was asleep.” He gestured toward his face, which looked like he still boasted the tiniest phallus-shaped shadows on either cheek.

Okay, maybe I did retaliate for that engagement announcement. But how impressive was it that I managed to draw those in the pitch darkness. I hadn’t even used my phone light.

“You’re a heavy sleeper. I remember it from our time together.” I shrugged. “It was low hanging fruit. I took a bite.”

He gestured to the ice cream. “Well, I’m not taking one until you promise me I’m not going to leave here in a gurney.”

“I swear.” I put a hand on my ribcage. “The ice cream is fine. Here, I’ll take the first bite.”

I snatched the cone from his fingertips and swirled my tongue across the ice cream, holding eye contact with Oliver the entire time. His throat bobbed with a swallow, and he readjusted his pants. I almost laughed at the visceral reaction he had to it.

“See?” I passed the cone back to him. “Can you think of a better cream?”

“Yeah, the one in my pants after seeing this,” he grumbled, putting his lips to the ice cream. His tongue traced the same route mine did as he, too, held eye contact. “Oh, shit.” He frowned at the cone and went in for a bigger lick. “This is actually super good.”

I took a seat and rested my chin on my fist, my elbows planted on the island countertop as I watched him. “I went to a gelato-making course two years ago.”

He got a few more licks in before he found it. The plastic card I’d hidden inside.

He stopped, yanked it out between sticky fingers, and frowned at it. “What the hell is this?”

“It’s our singing class appointment.” I clapped my hands together and twirled on the stool, pasting on my best oh-my-god-I-can’t-wait-to-marry-you smile. “Remember? For our wedding duet.”

I could practically hear the wheels in his head turning before he processed this as my retaliation for his New York Times announcement.

His deer-in-the-headlights expression smoothed into a smirk. “Oh, yeah. I was wondering when we would start those.”noveldrama

I opened my arms wide. “This afternoon.”

“This afternoon?”

I winked. “No better time than the present, right?”

“I could think of a better time. Namely, never,” he mumbled, before plastering a fake grin on his face, too. “Sorry, what I meant to say is – yes, I am free, and no, I cannot wait. As you probably gathered, I am dead serious about our fake wedding.”

“So am I.”

One of us would have to fold, but it wouldn’t be me.

I wasn’t sure what we were doing, but I was fairly certain it would lead to more grinding and possibly sex, which I would really love to have with Oliver. So, what? I owed him one time, anyway.

Just one time, Briar.

“Actually.” Oliver advanced toward me, giving the ice cream another lick. “I have an even better idea.”

He angled the cone toward me. I licked it. He dipped his head, his tongue chasing mine over the ice cream. It was hot against the cold and tasted sweet. So sweet. Our eyes closed, and for a second, we French kissed through whatever remained of the ice cream.

A few white drops fell from the cone, snaking between my breasts. Before I knew it, I was panting, ready for him to rip my clothes off and take me.

I did agree to have sex with him at a time of his choosing.

Now could be that time.

“Hmm. So fucking sweet. Anyway.” Oliver pulled from me suddenly, completely composed and unaffected by the kiss, it seemed. “As I said, I have an idea.”

“W – what’s your idea?”

“I want to do the dance, too.”

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “The dance?”

“Yes. ‘Love is an Open Door.’ It has choreography. Why settle for just the song? Let’s do the dance, too.”

It was getting ridiculous. Did he really think I believed he’d go through with this? Did he think I would? If this was a game of chicken, a round of who-will-blink-first, I refused to be the first one to bail.

“Sure.” I hopped off my seat and stretched, arching my boobs toward his face. “That works for me. So. Ready for our first singing lesson?”

Just when I got my wits about me, Oliver decided to scoop some ice cream out of the cone with his index finger and dip the white cream into my mouth. I opened up for him without a question, staring helplessly at him.

“Fuck.” His eyes were drowsy, sleepy as he traced my lips with the same finger I sucked clean. “You are going to drink every drop of my cum when I finally fuck you, aren’t you?”

“If that ever happens. You’ve been taking your time about cashing in on your win.”

“Just building anticipation.”

“Wanting to fuck you has never been an issue, Oliver. I’m attracted to you. It’s your personality I cannot stand.”

“Big words from someone who is about to marry me.”

Touché.

He’d blink first.

I’d make sure of it.