I narrow my eyes at the 'or something' comment. I'm fairly sure it's something incredibly horrible that she has planned that I won't find related to controlling my anger at all. Like I said, she likes messing with me.

All those kinds of thoughts are uninterrupted though when she starts squirming on my lap. I don't know if between the sweater and the movements she knows what she's doing to me. It's hard to tell with her because sometimes I think she does things to just fuck with my mind.

I'm going to need another cold shower soon.

"Yeah, fine," I say, running my fingers through my hair. "I'll stay. For today."