Saint’s Supreme T-shirt is molded to his impressive abs, and he’s also wearing ripped jeans and boots.
Galen has a fitted black shirt on, rolled up to the sleeves, showcasing his muscular arms, and his ass looks delectable in tight black jeans. His hair is back in a faux hawk, the tips edged in green.
“I wasn’t fishing for compliments,” Caz says, winking at me. “You two are just too stinking cute for words.” He waves his hand at me and Theo.
“Cute is not the word I’d use to describe our girl tonight.” Theo leans in, kissing my cheek. “You’re straight fire, babe.”
“I think we all scrub up good.” I smooth a hand down over my black glitter minidress. It’s a sleeveless, choker-style bodycon dress that leaves zero to the imagination. I’ve teamed it with skyscraper black stilettos that have spiky silver studs all over them. My hair is pulled back in a slick ponytail, and I went heavy on the makeup.
I used body paint to paint the bandage around the cut on my arm in black so now it looks like part of my outfit. Not that I’m ever embarrassed by any of my scars, but I don’t want to invite questions.
Saint, Caz, and Theo noticed the matching bandages on our arms, but none of them asked about it. At least, they didn’t ask me. Not sure if Saint interrogated Galen or decided to trust that I’m handling shit in my own way.
“Why else do you think I’m hanging back here?” Caz says, waggling his brows at Theo. “Your ass is smokin’ hot in that dress, babe,” he adds, flattening his palm over my butt. He moves his lips to my ear. “I want to slide between those cheeks before the night is over.”
“Play your cards right, and you just might,” I retort, leaning back to peck his lips.
“Lead the way, princess,” Saint says when we reach the front doors, and I untangle my limbs from my guys and push inside Ashley’s extravagant mansion.
I stride through the crowd lining the hallway, heading toward the kitchen at the back of the house, noticing the hush that settles over the space as we advance. My lips twitch as I catch all the lingering glances sent my guys’ way. I knew all the rich bitches would be lusting after them tonight. There’s nothing like the promise of a foul-mouthed, sexy-as-fuck bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks to send hearts racing and dampen panties.
Too bad for them I don’t share.
I reach my arm back, grabbing the nearest hand and tugging.
“Jealous, princess?” Saint whispers in my ear, wrapping his arm around me from behind as we continue walking.
“Don’t play dumb, babe.” I squeeze his hand. “There’s a difference between jealousy and possessiveness.” I angle my head so I’m meeting his eyes. “You’re mine, and those greedy bitches need to know it.”
Grabbing me by the hips, he slams me up against the wall. He cages me in with his muscular arms, leaning down to trail his nose along the underside of my jaw. “Fuck, princess. I love it when your claws come out.” I smirk, sliding my hand around his toned waist and palming his ass. “I know this shit turns you on,” he adds, dropping one arm. He clasps my thigh roughly, and his fingers slide up my skin. “I’m betting you’re so fucking wet for us right now.”
“No betting required.” I push my chest into his. “I’m horny as shit, and you’re definitely taking care of me when we get home.”
Saint arches a brow as his fingers creep under the hem of my dress. “Who said anything about waiting till we get home?”
I kiss his mouth quickly. “I like the way you think,” I purr over his lips, pinning him with a sultry look. “Let’s get this shit done so we can get to the sexy times.”
He presses his body flush against mine, grasping my chin and tilting my face up to his. “So.” He kisses one corner of my mouth. “Fucking.” He kisses the other side. “Perfect.” He cups my pussy under my dress the same time his mouth descends on mine in a greedy kiss that screams possession.
I have zero complaints.
“Oh my God! Harlow Westbrook!” A shrill voice explodes in my ear, forcing my lips from Saint’s.
Saint lets me go, removing his hand from under my dress while sending daggers at the gorgeous airhead invading our private time.
“Julia.” I plaster a smarmy smile on my lips. “Great to see you.”
Not.
Julia is Ashley’s bestie in life and on the cheer squad. But where Ashley has charisma by the bucketful, her sidekick lacks even basic social skills.
Julia is heir to the Manford throne, a global, multibillion-dollar media corporation, and she thinks Daddy’s money buys her a golden ticket for life. She’s one of the most reveredandreviled girls at Lowell Academy, but everyone sucks up to her because they’re just that shallow.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me?” Julia says, blatantly eye fucking Saint.
I spot the others leaning against the doorway to the kitchen behind her. Caz is smirking. Galen is inspecting his nails and avoiding the amorous glances being sent his way, while Theo shakes his head, smiling.
Julia places her hands on Saint’s chest, batting her fake eyelashes at him. “I’m Julia, and you’ve just made all my dreams come true.”
