I freeze.
My brain shuts off.
But my clit is fully engaged and ready to see if he’ll follow through.
I grit my teeth, willing my brain to wake the fuck up and take back over.
“Let me go, and we’ll go. But I want to say goodbye to Kara and Rosa.”
He loosens his grip on me, sliding his hand down my arm and lacing our hands together. Gently, he squeezes.
“A quick goodbye.” He turns abruptly on his heel and pulls me with him.
If anyone thinks our actions are shocking, they’re keeping their reactions to themselves. No one is really paying us any attention other than my uncle.
Hatred fills the air. It’s thick and ugly and all I can do is take deep breathes of it.
“What’s going on?” Kara demands when we stop at her table.
“We’re leaving. Say your goodbyes.”
“Goodbyes? We’re still getting together tomorrow right?” Kara’s eyes narrow. “Right?”
“I guess we’re leaving tonight. For Chicago.” I jerk my hand from his grip and wrap her in a tight hug. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
“I hate this. I hate your uncle. And your fucking brothers.”
“Me too, kid. Me too.” I kiss her on the cheek, then move to Rosa, giving her a tight squeeze. “I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
“Time’s up.” Kaz grabs my hand again.
“What, shouldn’t we say goodbye to everyone?” I try to keep us here a little longer.
He drags me to the doors that are opened as soon as we get close to them, then into the hallway.
“You’re being rude!” I jerk my hand back, but this time he doesn’t let go.
Instead he spins me around to face him, then bends over. His shoulder hits my stomach, and I’m hoisted over it.
Dangling upside down, it takes me a moment to accept what’s happened. He’s carrying me out of the hotel like some child having a temper tantrum.
Fine. I can oblige. I’m nothing if not completely fucking flexible in how the men around me expect me to behave.
I throw my fists into his back and his ass—his firm, nicely shaped ass.
As the carpet of the hallway gives way to the cream marble flooring of the lobby, he tightens his grip on my legs. We’re walking through groups of people milling around the lobby.
Humiliation sets in.
“The car’s right out front,” someone says to Kaz.
“Good,” he responds.
I throw my fist into his back once more.
“Bad girl!” he announces and slaps my ass hard enough for the sound to vibrate through the lobby.
I’m going to die.
