Page 11

“Damn right, you are. Scared of what you want me to do to you. You’re scared to be alone with me because you want me to touch you.

That whole time you sat in that chair, looking all prim and proper, I could tell how much you wanted my dick inside you.

I’ll bet you’re wet right now.” Vanessa gasped when he ran one hand up her thigh, higher under her skirt until his fingers were tracing the line of her pussy through her damp underwear.

He released an unsteady breath. “I was right. So wet I could wear it like cologne.”

Santino grinned. The air in the elevator grew heavier, hotter.

He tormented her with his lips, not kissing her, barely skimming the corner of her mouth.

He cupped her pussy through her drenched panties, zeroing in on her special spot.

Then he slipped his hand inside the cloth and stroked it, lightly at first, then harder, in leisurely little circles that almost undid her.

Vanessa grabbed his wrist and stopped him, summoning a strength she honestly didn’t know she had.

He withdrew his hand reluctantly. “Alright, I’ll stop.

But nobody else gets to enjoy my pussy, not as long as that marriage certificate is still good.

Mi capisci, tesoro ? Nobody. And especially not him.

I think he’s bad news. Unless you’ve changed your mind, and a bad guy is what you really want after all. ”

His breath hot against the skin of her cheek, he didn’t move away despite her push against his hard pecs.

“Does my good girl want a bad guy?”

“I –” Her brain was short-circuiting. She couldn’t think of a quick comeback or a disparaging remark fast enough. “Santino, leave me alone,” she whispered shakily.

Lost in this moment, in the erotic daze he’d thrust her in, she had to lean against the elevator for support while he stared at her through lowered lashes, his breathing still heavy, like hers.

“You don’t want him. End it,” he rasped.

Her heart was still galloping. “I can do whatever I want with whomever I want.” Her mind sharpening as the lust faded and a deeper panic rolled in, the words formed and came faster, tumbling out of her.

“And don’t touch me again. I don’t belong to you.

That marriage certificate is as meaningless to me now as it was to you then.

I’m sure you’re hitting everything that moves anyway, so go fuck someone else. ”

Santino glowered over her but finally stepped back.

And not a minute too soon. Panting and pushing her hair out of her flushed face, she tried to catch her breath while he adjusted the huge, very obvious bulge in his trousers.

With his nostrils flared, he set the elevator in motion again with another slap of that wicked hand.

As the journey commenced, he shoved his hands back in his pockets.

“Fuck someone else?” he said with a shake of his head. “If anybody’s gonna fuck me, it’s gonna be you, wifey .”

Her body sizzled at that little term of endearment.

That’s what he called her on their wedding night at the Li Mirage in Aruba when he’d ravaged her body, repeatedly.

She’d been so thoroughly banged out and loved on that she’d been unable to walk the next morning.

He’d brought her breakfast in bed, and she’d been blissfully, stupidly happy.

But now, all the bitter and the sweet of that memory just made her sad.

“You’re wrong. I am never fucking you again,” she fired back, blinking away sudden tears of rage. “And I’m moving on with my life, whether you like it or not. What I do doesn’t concern you anymore.”

One eyebrow lifted at her declaration. “Oh, really? Okay. $5,000 a month is what we settled on, right? I put that money on that motherfucker being exactly what I think he is, and another five grand on you begging to ride this dick when you realize you should have never left me in the first place.”

He gripped said dick through his pants for emphasis. She was ashamed at how her mouth fucking watered, imagining the taste of it, remembering the shape and texture she’d memorized with her tongue.

How she wanted him.

How she hated him.

“And as for those papers? I’m not signing shit.”

The elevator reached the lobby. Santino strode out the second the doors opened, leaving her against the elevator wall, shaking.

Everything he’d touched was still on fire.

The people waiting to get on stared after him and then at her.

With sudden embarrassment, she wondered if they could smell her arousal in the close space of the elevator and guess what had happened, what she’d allowed Santino to do to her body and her head.

As she stumbled through the lobby to the nearly blinding sunlight outside, her mind raced, trying to fathom what the fuck had just happened and how he knew what he did about Scott. Had he sicced a private investigator on her?

She slowed, her raging blood turning volcanic. If he thought she was going to stop seeing Scott simply because he said so, she was even more determined to see it through.

Montreal or bust.

Her phone rang and she jerked it out of her bag to see who was calling. Speak of the devil. Scott Malone.

Shit . A gray cloud of guilt cracked open overhead and poured a fresh shower of guilt and anxiety on her.

They weren’t exclusive yet. They hadn’t even gone further than kissing.

Her recollections of contract law from her classes weren’t that clear, but she did know there’d been no verbal or written agreement that other people were off limits.

Until that happened, neither of them owed the other fidelity but damn, it felt wrong that he’d been the last thing on her mind when Santino touched her.

What did that say about her? About their future as a couple?

Would he know by the sound of her voice that she’d had her ex’s fingers flexing against her pussy less than fifteen minutes ago? The ex she sort of hadn’t mentioned she was still married to?

Maybe if she’d slept with Scott before now, with anyone else, she would have been satisfied and happy. She would never have been so horny that she lost her goddamned mind and let the Toxic Avenger anywhere near her.

The sidewalk along the avenue was busy. Someone bumped into her, and she veered away between the buildings into a small oasis with a flowing wall of water.

She found a stone bench between giant potted green shrubs.

For the second time that day, she braced herself and pressed the green symbol to call him back.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Malone.” She tried to sound normal, even upbeat, as she stared at a pair of sparrows dipping their tiny beaks in a puddle of spilled soda.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Watson. How was your day?”

“Pretty good,” she lied. “How was your big meeting?”

“We made good progress.”

Scott continued to tell her a little bit about the meeting.

His deep voice soothed her, that cadence of the Bronx which felt familiar and comforting.

The meeting had something to do with the acquisition of a smaller company by his larger one.

Unfortunately, his calming voice soothed her too much because, as usual, she’d lost track of what he was saying and had drifted off in her head to the way her body was still tingling.

An image of Santino’s face swam in her head, staring at her with concentration as those damning fingers manipulated her clit and how fucking good they had felt…

“Anyway, I know how exciting all this sounds. I’ll save some of the details for when we get together,” Scott said wryly, snapping her out of her mental drift. Had he noticed she wasn’t listening? “Hey, are you in the city?”

“W-why do you ask?” she stammered, her head whipping around to see if he was nearby.

“Sirens.”

Fucking sirens, of course. “Yeah, actually, I finished up work early, so I thought I’d come down to meet my girls now instead of risking getting stuck in traffic.”

“Oh yeah, your girls’ night out thing.”

“Yup. A movie under the stars at Bryant Park, a lounge, and a couple drinks. They’re showing —”

“Sounds good. I hope you have fun. Listen, I gotta go.” He paused. Someone spoke in the background, and he laughed. “Sorry. This weekend looks crazy, so I have to cancel tomorrow. Can I see you Monday night instead?”

“It’s fine, I’m going into work tomorrow too. Monday’s good.”

“Cool. Wear something nice.”

“Don’t I always?”

“Yeah, you always look good,” Scott said, and she grinned despite the guilt still weighing on her shoulders. “Can’t wait to see you.”

Her heart knocked a bit under her ribcage at his words, but it wasn’t an entirely pleasant feeling. Not so much like butterflies. More like a soda-drunk sparrow tweaking on caffeine, sugar, and regret.

“Can’t wait to see you, too,” she responded.

The words felt clumsy in her mouth. She wasn’t used to saying things like that to anyone before or since Santino.

A worm of doubt wriggled in the back of her mind whether the statement was entirely true, but she pushed it away.

It was normal to be nervous about getting closer to someone new.

Her ex fucking with her didn’t exactly help.

“Alright, I’ll be ready,” she finished, snapping back to the moment for a second time. She really needed to get out of her own head. “See you Monday.”