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His tone is deadly. “I said you’re not going anywhere next week.”
Anger cuts through me like a razor blade. “You can’t stop me.”
His eyes darken. “Perhaps you didn’t hear what I just said.”
“It’s only for a few days, and if she’s with the school teachers at all times then…,” my mom replies, but Saint cuts her off, ignorant and abrupt.
“I don’t give a fuck if she’s staying with the Pope in the Vatican. She isn’t going anywhere. With my dad gone, I’m the one responsible for the people who live under this roof, and my answer is no.”
I slump back, stunned in disbelief, expecting my mom to tell him to back off, but she doesn’t. She stays silent.
Typical.
Saint picks up his whisky glass and knocks back the contents, brushing me off.
“You can’t do that, Saint!” I argue.
“The discussion is over, Lexy.”
The fuck it is!
Chapter Twenty-Five
Isitfumingforthe rest of the meal. Too pissed to speak.
Saint leans into my neck, making me want to punch his stupid face.
“Don’t ever question me like that again.”
I turn my head to face him, whispering. “I fucking hate you.”
His blue eyes darken. “Is that so, Angel.”
My stomach twists, and my body tenses when his hand slowly glides up the apex of my thigh to my center, brushing a fingertip lightly against my sex.
My eyes widened before shooting him a warning glare, making him grin, but he doesn’t stop there. Pushing my thong to the side, he enters me with a finger, forcing my lips to part at the sudden intrusion.
Fists clenching around the stem of my wine glass, I shift in my seat, attempting to close my legs without making a scene, but he doesn’t relent, dipping his finger in and out of me slowly.
My spine tingles, and I slam my eyes closed, stifling a moan, heat pulling into my soaked cunt.
Being finger fucked in a room full of people shouldn’t feel as good as it does, butgoddamn…
My eyes search for anyone watching, but thankfully, they’re all too engrossed in their individual conversations to notice.
Why is he doing this here? In front of everyone? In front of my mother, with zero shame.Punishment. This is his punishment for Rome.Well, fuck him. If anyone should feel uncomfortable here, it won’t be me.
Taking him by surprise, I rock into him and place my hand under the table, rubbing at his massive erection. He chews his bottom lip, whispering, “I dare you to pull it out,” flicking his eyes down to his crotch.
Thankfully, my hair is so long that it covers my arm and looks like it’s resting in my lap as I continue to palm him.
Saint’s body language changes when I lean forward with one elbow on the table, fully aware my cleavage is popping out, catching Logan’s attention.
“That’s a really nice shirt, Logan. Is it new?” I flirt in a sugary, sweet tone before taking a sip of wine.
Dabbing a napkin across my lips, my head turns slightly to Saint, who rolls his jaw, glaring at Logan.
Logan swallows before answering. “Umm-hum. You like it?”
