I glance from him to the sky, dipping my brows as he stares at me like I’ve gone mad. “You can’t see that amber-coloured orb? Maybe you need glasses.”
My witty mouth earns me a jab in the side, and he lifts me with ease over his thighs, letting me rest against his chest as his raised legs cage me in.
“I’ve got twenty-twenty vision, you little shit. Show me again; you can’t just point aimlessly at the fucking sky and assume I’ll know out of the thousands of lights the one you’re bloody talking about.”
My fingers pinch beneath his knee, earning me a laugh that rumbles deep in his chest, vibrating up my spine.
I sit up straight, and he immediately pulls me back to him, his head now resting on my shoulder.
My heartstrings tug like a novice harshly attempting the harp. Out of all the years I’ve grown up with Saint, I’d never in a million years imagined us being like this.
He thinks he’s incapable of being gentle, working his way towards the nature, but I’m not some fragile, delicate flower—I’ve survived his manhandling so far.
And I desperately want him to corrupt me the way he whispers about wickedly to me.
A blissful sigh leaves me when his arms wrap around my waist, hovering when he realises I only have panties underneath my baggy T-shirt.
“I’m waiting, Indie,” he says in my ear, and it’s coated with a warning, but thick with lust.
The way his thumb gently brushes under the curve of my breast, I’ve lost all train of thought.
He takes a drag from his free hand, and I lift my shaky one as the smoke from his cigarette curls around it, temporarily blanketing it in a haze of vapour.
“Look down my finger.”
He follows me, pressing his cheek flush with mine, and I can feel him squinting one eye closed against my skin.
“You see it? It’s a little brighter than the rest, more orange.”
I turn my head to look at him, and there’s a smirk tilting his mouth.
“You need fucking glasses!” I laugh, throwing my head back against his chest.
Saint leans over, crushing out his cigarette and pinging it off the side.
I bet my mom will give me shit for that if she finds it, and I’ll need to take a lecture that should be for him.
“I see you just fine, darling.” He kisses my neck, licking and sucking on it as his hand ghosts my nape, pulling me closer.
My eyes flutter shut, letting him feast on me. “How was working with your dad?”
He smiles against my skin, knowing I’m toying with him.
Another thing I’ve found out that I love is annoying him, especially when I play dumb about his intentions.
“Same old,” he answers, his other hand travelling to the apex of my thighs, forcing my breathing to go shallow.
I try to fight back the whimper as I speak. “You’re so mysterious, never giving anything away.”
I have no idea what Saint’s learning when he’s working with his dad. Maybe he’s going to take over as CEO one day.
He nips my skin, and my yelp echoes across the backyard.
“Trust me, darling, it’s nothing life changing.” He soothes the ache with a wet kiss. “I want to hear what you’ve been doing.”
His fingers dip past my panty line, moving agonisingly slow, causing an ache to form in their wake. “Well, today was okay”—he nibbles the sensitive spot between my neck and shoulder, making my voice hitch—“until someone was an asshole in class. I came home early.”
Saint locks like a boa constrictor around me, his hands and lips removing themself so that I look at him.
