The tension winding through my body has nothing to do with the stage. It’s want—and it’s completely centered on him.
And I can’t fucking wait.
Chapter Forty Four
My Turn
T
hetown slides by outside my window as I drive, my bag riding shotgun, stuffed with bills and crumpled clothes. The radio hums low, but I’m not really listening—my mind’s too busy replaying everything.
I really fuckingdidthat.
I can still feel the heat of the lights, the weight of the music thrumming through my body, the crowd’s eyes locked on me like I belonged there. The girls were right. I walked in nervous, doubting myself, and walked out with a new jobanda new alter ego.
Cold air presses in as I turn down quieter streets, my breath fogging the windows in slow curls. The chill seeps through, a contrast that only makes the warmth clinging to my skin feel heavier, and harder to ignore.
The voice of the GPS breaks my thoughts, giving the last few turns. My stomach twists with nervous excitement. I’ve never been to his place before. We’ve met up, gone places—but never here.
The neighborhood is calm in that practiced way—white fences, neat lawns, porch lights glowing like nothing ever goes wrong here. Every house on the street mirrors the next—his is the exception. The layout is the same, but the details shift everything. From here, it already feels like stepping into his world. Cream siding edged in black lines too clean to be accidental, dark-framed windows giving the house a cold, assertive presence.
I slow to a stop, my gaze lingering. The house fits him to well— masculine and sharp with money woven into every detail. I wonder what he does for work. Around here, anyone with real money always has their hands dirty. Especially someone his age. He said his dad own properties, but I can’t help but wonder if that’s all he does.
The deeper I get with those sexy-ass brothers, the more I feel myself stepping into a territory I thought I’d never touch.
I barely finish pulling into the driveway before the front door wings open. Saint steps out, sculpted figure settling into the doorframe, his tattooed chest glistening under the porch light. I step out of the car, the cold night air biting into my skin, goosebumps rising instantly. My heels click sharply against the pavement, loud in the quiet night.
His stare tracks me as I close the distance. He’s barefoot and shirtless, water still clinging at his temples like he hasn’t fully dried off. Gray sweatpants hang low on his hips, making no real attempt to hide what’s there.
The sight alone makes my pussy throb.
“Damn pretty,” he murmurs, voice rough as his lips curve into the sexiest smile. “You really pulled up ready to get that little pussy wrecked. Good girl.”
His eyes move over me slowly, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s fighting a grin. “Look at you… I bet you’re wet already for me too huh pretty?”
I tilt my head, letting my smile linger. “Maybe. But you’re not getting anything with me freezing my ass off.”
He closes the distance in one step, his mouth finding mine without hesitation. The rest of the neighborhood disappearing the second his lips touch mine. He breaks the kiss just long enough to move us, his hand never leaving my back as he steers me inside, shutting the door behind us.
Dark wood floors stretch through the open layout, the faint scent of his earthy cologne hanging in the air. A massive black leather couch anchors the room, a glass coffee table in front of it scattered with a few magazines and a remote. The kitchen gleams from where I stand—stainless steel, spotless counters, a shaker bottle with his keys left near the sink, small hints of his routine.
Saint spins me around, his bare chest firm against mine, his hands greedy at my waist. Each step pushes me back until the hem of my robe rides higher and the back of my legs hit the couch. His lips skim over mine, savoring the moment before taking everything I’m already offering.
I press a hand to his sculpted chest. “Wait.”
His brow lifts, impatience and lust flickering in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
I grin, biting my lip as the excitement builds faster than I can rein it in. “I need to tell you something before I actually explode.”
He pauses, eyes narrowing but curious. “Go on then pretty, what’s on your mind?”
My chest rises and falls quickly, words spilling out before I can stop them. “I did it. I auditioned at Teasers.”
He blinks, his features settling into something unreadable.
“And I got the job,” I add, my voice higher now. “Like—actually got it! You’re the first person I’ve told—not even Arina knows yet. Well she knew I wasthinkingabout it, but she didn’t know I actually did ittoday. And they said I can come back tonight if I’m feeling up for it.”
For a second, silence hangs between us. His expression flickering into something warmer.
