Slowly, I ran the tip of my tongue across my bottom lip, my mouth watering at the thought of him bending me over the vanity right now and fucking me hard. His eyes followed that trail before meeting my gaze again, they blazed with raw desire. The hand on my shoulder squeezed lightly and even through the thin material of the t-shirt, pure fire burned my skin. His breathing turned harsher, and I stopped breathing altogether. Waiting, watching, hoping.Please, Saint.I almost said out loud.
His eyes closed as he blew out air on short, sharp exhales. “Fuck,” I heard him mutter under his breath. He opened his eyes, and they burned with the usual steely resolve I’d grown to hate. “Levana,” he began, and my pulse soared despite the anguish in his tone. His expression morphed into sudden despair before he turned and walked out.
Was I asking for too much? Was I being a typical teenager or a wanton slut?
Deflated, I stood, took a deep, steadying breath, and left the bathroom. The apartment was huge—a penthouse suite judging by the sea and city views outside the floor-to-ceiling windows I passed. I figured the two closed doors on my way belonged to bedrooms and resisted the urge to pry. He’d already brought me into his home, allowed me to puke, and shower, so the least I could do was respect his privacy. Although the décor was white throughout and complemented by glass, it was elegant and spoke of wealth I’d only seen in movies.
Chapter 29 - Levana
Ifound Saint seatedin the kitchen, a glass filled with a brown liquid I guessed to be whiskey, in one hand, the other raking through his hair giving him a sleepily sexy look. The top two buttons of his shirt were open, and his sleeves rolled up haphazardly displaying his veined forearms that rippled each time he clenched his fist, which seemed to be a lot.
“Would you like something to eat?” he asked. When I shook my head, he pointed to a box of crackers and a bottled water on the island top. “Those might help if you’re still feeling nauseas.”
“Thanks.” I grabbed the box and took out a cracker. “Can you take me home, please?” I asked, nibbling on the crisp snack.
His eyes widened momentarily before he sipped his drink. “I messaged Cian to convince your father you were at her place, I don’t think it wise that I took you home now.”
“Is that how you knew I was at that party.” I slipped onto a stool opposite him unsure if I was angry or happy with Cian right now.
He nodded, then asked, “what were you thinking?” He sounded mad. I frowned, not sure to what he referred. “Why did you go to that party?”
“Why do high school girls go to a party,” I scoffed, trying to act like I didn’t care what he thought or felt. “To drink, to meet boys, hook up. I’m sure you know why—”
“That was a college frat party,” he muttered, his tone clipped almost as though he were restraining his anger. “Those guys take advantage of innocent girls like you. And by the looks of things when I walked in, one had already tried,” the last part ground out through clenched teeth.
“Why, Mr Sinclair, you almost sound like you care.” I rolled my eyes, more annoyed with myself for thinking I could ever have something with him. Just when I finally gave up trying and decided to do something about it, he’d come charging back like a prince on a white horse—make that a black and chrome motorbike. Unfortunately, the irony wasn’t lost on me. He was of royal descent after all.
“What makes you think I don’t?” the sudden calm to his voice caught me off guard.
Okay, not the question I wanted to hear, given his hot and cold behaviour tonight. Fidgeting with the cuticle on my index finger, I stumbled through my thoughts to find the proper response. “I guess I just wanted to be someone’s one in a million kind of girl,” I replied absentmindedly, lifting my gaze to him. My mother had always made me feel inadequate, him turning me down, even more so.
“Why?” he asked, glancing up from his drink. I frowned, not quite sure how to describe what I was trying to say. He leaned forward slightly, drawing my attention to his beautiful eyes that seemed to glitter against the moonlight in the window behind him. “There’s more than a million girls around the world, Levana, why be a man’s one inonlya million girl when you can be his once in a lifetime kind of woman.”
Wow.The man sure had a way with words. I sighed. “Look at me.” Even though I said the words, I silently scolded myself. Hadn’t my aunt reproached me for thinking so little of myself. Still, I continued, “guys my age, don’t look at girls my size. I don’t stand a chance against all the beauty queens filling our school halls. How would I stand out?”
He raked a slow gaze over my face then slowly shook his head. “Having a man attracted to you is a normal average, having a man invested wholly and unconditionally in all aspects of you, is love. No amount of sexy dressing, over caked make-up, high heels or stylish hairstyles will change that. You’re beautiful just the way you are, you don’t need any of that.” He took a drink, eyeing me over the rim of his glass. “Don’t sell yourself short, you have everything it takes to be that woman.”
