Stephanie’s voice stopped me when my hand curled around the door handle. “They still come to me, you know. It’s my bedroom that Rogue and Godfrey have been visiting every week since they dumped you.” I jerked around to meet her triumphant gaze, and my stomach churned at her pleased expression. “Oh, you didn’t know?” she asked with mock sympathy. “Guess you’re not as important to them as you thought,” she said with a smug smile that I wanted to claw off her face.
Before I ended up punching the bitch again, I yanked open the door and rushed out of the bathroom. Stephanie’s laughter hit me in the ears on the way out.
I found Clay propped against the wall, flirting with one of the other junior cotillion girls. I yanked on his arm and pulled him away, never slowing down even as we got outside, despite his questions about what was wrong. When we got to his car, I pulled open the door and got in, my breathing way too erratic.
Clay started up his BMW and started to drive, shooting me a look. “What crawled up your ass, girl?”
“Nothing.”
He snorted and shifted gears. He was the only person I knew who could actually drive stick shift. He always bragged about how good he was at handling his sticks.
“Cut the shit, Livingston. You were fine when you went into the bathroom. I saw the Palmisano chick follow you in there. She give you trouble?”
I pinched my bottom lip in thought. “No more than usual.”
He sighed. “Fine. Don’t tell me. Am I dropping you at home?”
At first, I considered telling him yes, despite Rogue’s text. Maybe I should just go home, just to piss him off. But then I considered it, and I shook my head. “No. Salvador Bar on Congress Street.”
He hummed in acceptance and turned toward the right direction. I fumed the entire way there, and Clay, being the non-pushy person that he was, let me be. He just turned up the radio so loud that the music washed over me, drowning out my thoughts with the hard hitting bass. When we pulled up to the bar, Clay looked over at me, his dark hand still propped over the stick shift in his confident, easy way. “Want me to come in?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m okay. Thanks, Clay. I know cotillion class sucked, but a date was required, and you really saved my ass.”
He grinned mischievously. “Well, it is a mighty fine ass.”
I managed to crack a smile. Taking off my seatbelt, I leaned in to peck a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll text you later.”
He held up two fingers. “Peace.”
I got out of the car and closed the door, waving as he drove away. Just when I was about to turn toward the bar, I was whirled around by a pair of strong hands. “What the fuck was that?”
I looked up at Rogue’s angry expression, but I was too pissed off at him to cower. “What was what?” I asked, shrugging him off of me and taking a step back. I wasn’t in the mood for his possessive bullshit, especially not after what Stephanie just insinuated.
He blinked at me, like me moving away caught him off guard. We were standing in the middle of the sidewalk, causing people to have to swerve around us, so he grabbed my arm once again and pulled me into the bar. I was getting really fucking tired of all his manhandling, so I reached over and pinched him as hard as I could on the back of the bicep. Asshole didn’t even flinch.
The inside of the bar was swanky. But then, Luis's mama was a real estate tycoon for a reason. She knew which places to buy and how to run them. We were met with dim, blue-toned lighting and a black and stainless steel interior. Music played at the back of the bar, and a long, metal bar top surrounded the rest of the high tables fixed around the room.
Rogue led me off the entrance, to the hallway that led to the back employee area. It was semi-private, but I could still see into the bar area. Rogue studied me, taking in my outfit for the first time, but the lust in his eyes didn’t replace his anger. It only seemed to magnify it.
He braced a hand on the wall behind me, caging me in. “You kissed him.”
I frowned, taken aback. “What? Who?”
“Clayton Hammond,” he gritted out.
I rolled my eyes. “Rogue, I gave him a kiss on the cheek. As a friend. I was thanking him for going with me to the cotillion class.”
Rogue looked me up and down again. “I don’t give a shit. I don’t want you kissing him.”
When I went to scoff, he reached up and grabbed hold of my jaw. “These lips belong to me,” he said, making the blood in my veins pump faster. “The only place they should ever be is on mine, or wrapped around my cock.”
I reached up and smacked his hand off of my face. His eyes flared, but I met him with just as much anger. “Don’t be a hypocrite,” I threw back at him.
His frown deepened. “What?”
I crossed my arms, ready to read him the riot act. I wanted to yell and scream, to punch him in his stupidly handsome face for managing to hurt me so soon after having sex. “Tell me, does the same rule apply to you now? Or do you get to kiss and fuck and get your dick sucked by just anyone?”
“Scarlett—”
“No,” I cut him off and laughed bitterly. “You know what, Rogue? I shouldn’t be surprised. I really shouldn’t. It’s not like we’re officially dating. We fucked a few times. That’s it,” the words tasted bitter in my mouth. “But out of all people, does it have to be her?”
He ran a hand through his dark hair in frustration. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Stephanie Palmisano,” I shot back. “You visit her house every week.” I watched his eyes widen, and I knew right then that it was true.
I shook my head and shoved past him, but he grabbed me and whirled me back around, pinning me again. “Don’t walk away from me.”
“Get off me, or I’ll scream,” I said levelly.
Instead of doing what I asked, the asshole dropped a hand and shoved it under my dress. I brought my palms against his chest to push him away, but when I felt his fingers run over my panties, I let a whimper escape my parted lips. I wanted to claw at him, but instead, my fingers fisted into his crisp, white shirt. He dipped under, pulling my panties to the side so that his finger could rub against my clit, and I had to bite back a moan.
He leaned in, pressing his breath against my neck. “You’re wet.”
“Not for you,” I lied. I wasn’t sure why I bothered. Rogue could read me like a fucking book. He knew how well my body responded to him.
He chuckled darkly, and the sound shot straight to my core as his fingers continued to dance over my nub. “You can’t lie to me, Scar. I know you better than you know yourself.”
“You don’t know me,” I said, but he shoved a finger inside of me, and my head fell back against the wall in bliss.
“I do know you. I know everything. I know that you like that I have you here, pinned against this wall, where anyone could walk by and see me fucking you with my hand.” His dirty words only added to my euphoria, and I could feel myself already near orgasm as he added a second finger and started pumping into me. “I know that you’re mine, and that you’re about to come all over my fingers.”
I didn’t want to, just to spite him, but he was right. I did like being there, teetering on exhibitionism. I liked that someone could walk by any second and catch us. So even though part of me wanted to hold back and not give in to an orgasm, I was too out of my mind with excitement. When my orgasm hit me, I leaned forward and smashed my lips against his. I practically fucked his mouth with my tongue as he fucked my pussy with his fingers, and he swallowed my every moan and whimper until I was done.