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I said to give the drink to one of them; I could not have been any clearer. And all she’s doing is resting her back on their table, not even facing them, and starts drinking the said drink. And yet they’re all looking at her back, at her long hair touching their table. The fat Russian grabs her arm and tugs, indicating for her to turn around. She does so, acting surprised that they want to talk to her.
I can tell the exact moment they see her face, because theirs darken like wolves who finally found prey after days of searching. His hand doesn’t leave her wrist as he talks to her. She says something that makes them all laugh and then focuses on the one holding her. Great, she’s finally following what I told her. I notice the other guys trying to get her attention but not getting one bit of it. Is that what it’s like to be into Rose White?
The guy she’s talking to rubs his thumb against her tattooed wrist and blood rushes to my ears, making me slightly annoyed.
What the fuck. Get a hold of yourself, Malik.
My heart starts racing when he puts another hand on her waist. Her skinny figure looks breakable in his big hands. I know she’s anything but. Still, I get a sudden urge to break every single one of his fingers.
My fingertips heat up, and I turn to the bartender again.
“Another Polugar,” I snap. She looks at me under her lashes and smiles. “Lots of ice.”
I shouldn’t be drinking. I don’t drink anymore, and Sam would absolutely flip if he saw me do so. But it doesn’t count with a lot of ice, right?
“We don’t often see pretty faces like yours in this club,” she tells me in a sultry voice. She pours the see-through liquid into my glass, her eyes not leaving mine.
I don’t even reply to her. My eyes are on Rose and that man as I down my drink. When he pulls her onto his lap, I take it as my sign to carry out the rest of the plan. I should probably give them more time, but I’m suddenly feeling extra possessive. Good thing it goes with the character I’m meant to play. We need to get invited to their private party tomorrow and we need to go as a duo. A veryspecialduo.
I slam my tumbler on the bar and stride toward the group.
Remember, you can’t smash his head on the table. You need the guy.
They all look up at me from their seats. Rose was about to pour some of her drink in the guy’s mouth. She stops mid-gesture and brings the glass back to herself when she notices my deadly stare.
She blinks up at me, and I let a lethal smirk spread across my face. Slowly, I reach for her, grabbing a fistful of her thick hair and pulling her slowly enough that she can follow the movement.
“Princess,” I taunt. She struggles to get off the guy’s lap, but she manages. Good, it would hurt if she didn’t. “I’ve been looking for you.”
She winces when I shake her head, confusion spreading on her face. I can imagine her thoughts rights now. I told her to go flirt, and now I’m coming in like a jealous boyfriend. I couldn’t exactly tell her that was the plan, she would have never followed through with it.
The three men around the table look at me with a mix of envy, jealousy, and hate.
“Gentlemen,” I tell them politely. “I hope she hasn’t been bothering you? She can be a very,verybad girl.”
The guys sneer one by one. They’re slowly understanding I play in the same category as them.
“Not at all,” one says. He’s got Russian features but an American accent. He must be younger than the others, a generation born here.
“No, but if she escaped you looking for more company, you are not taking good care of her.” That’s the one that was holding her. He’s older, and his accent is strong. His dark hair is mixed with gray ones above his ears and by his temples. He’s big, his white shirt too tight around his neck and his pants about ready to explode.
I look at Rose. Her eyes are darting to all of them, not quite following the conversation. Or maybe not believing I put her in this situation.
“Eyes down,” I snap at her. This could go either way. She is such a rebellious soul, and I expect her to throw the drink in my face and fuck our plan right this second.
But then her gaze drops to the floor. My lips part slightly, shock coursing through my body before I get back into character.
Shit, it’s really hot when she obeys. A lot hotter than when she talks back. Or maybe it’s the former coming after the latter that makes it hot.
I let go of her hair and simply grab the drink in her hands. “And you’ve been drinking? I’m counting the punishments, princess. Are you?”
I can’t believe I’m using some of Sam’s tactics right now. I know how much I love it when he does it to me. I could never imagine saying these kinds of things to him. But to her? It feels a little too natural right now.
I smell the drink, pretending not to know what it was. Initially, I wanted her to use it as an excuse to talk to the guys. Offer them a drink and start a conversation. But she kept it to herself, so I’m improvising.
“Vodka,” I chuckle. “Bad princess. Look at how you make me look in front of my new friends. Now they’re going to think I don’t train you well.” I grab her jaw tightly between my fingers. “Show them how well you listen.” I take a large sip of vodka in my mouth, press on her cheeks until she opens and spit the drink into her mouth.
She chokes on it when she tries to swallow. Some of it spills out of her mouth, and I wipe it with my hand.
