Really?“Then why won’t you fuck me with that sex starved appetite I saw that night?” I blurted the words that had been churning inside me since the first day he confessed to being Saint. He looked taken aback for a moment and I suddenly prayed I hadn’t angered him by bringing up that godforsaken night. “Was I not good enough?” I whispered, trying to quell the butterflies going apeshit in my stomach.
I’d come across many facial expressions since meeting him, but that pained look right now, tightened my stomach muscles. He looked almost heartbroken. Something I found strange given I was the onehe’dsent away. Regardless, I had the insane desire to comfort him, to relieve him of that desolate look.
Sighing, he sat back. “Even if a woman considers a man God’s gift to women, it doesn’t make him one, Snow.”
That word again. This time, though, it was directed at me. “Snow?” I raised a brow.
For a second, I detected a hesitation in his eyes before his expression shuttered with a smile that just about melted my panties. Oh, wait, I wasn’t wearing any. Still, that beautiful smile was a rarity and a tingle I recognized as arousal around him pricked the tiny cells that made up my clit. Squirming in my seat, I clenched the hand on my lap waiting for the burn of my fingernails digging into my palm to refocus my attention. I was still recovering from the effect that little smile instigated when he reached across the table and covered my other hand with his. Warmth thrilled the nerves down my arm.
“Somethings are best left unsaid until they find a way to be described,” he said.
“Huh?”
His soft chuckle scattered pleasurable dots up my spine, intensifying the touch of his hand still covering mine. I shivered taking a moment to enjoy the feeling unsure if it would happen again.
“All in good time, Levana.”
Hope flared in my chest, radiating upward to part my lips in an eager smile. Would there be more between us? I wanted to ask but barely managed to squash my teenage jubilance and instead asked, “What did you mean about being God’s gift to women?” I bit my lip trying to stay grounded against the back-and-forth slide of his thumb on my skin.
He lifted his gaze from our hands to stare at my lip. “You don’t need a man’s validation to make you feel wanted. You’re strong, beautiful and intelligent by simply being you. A man should earn your respect before he earns the right to remove your panties.”
“And what if a man has already earned that right but refuses to take it?” I couldn’t disguise the sarcasm in my voice.
He leaned back in his seat, pulling his hand away and I immediately regretted my tone. “Maybe he has a perfectly good reason not to.”
Done playing this game, I let out a frustrated grunt. He clearly held the winning cards, and I was seriously close to making myself a fool, yet again. It was time I chalked our interactions up to a once in a lifetime experience, never to happen again and move on. “I’d like to sleep now, please.”
Saint’s guarded expression was back in place. Downing his drink in one quick gulp, he stood and walked over to the sink. After washing his glass, he gestured for me to follow him. Expecting to be shown to a guest bedroom, I was surprised when he opened one of the two closed doors, switched on a light, and said, “you can sleep in my room. I’ll take the couch.”
Preceding him, I loved the feel of the plush grey carpet beneath my feet. “Why don’t I sleep in your guest room?” I asked, frowning.
“I don’t have one.” Moving to the bed, he drew back the gunmetal covers revealing black satin sheets and pillows.
I glanced around the massive room. Bathed in the soft overhead light, everything appeared so neat and stylish, I was scared to touch something. A king size bed crowned by a large charcoal headboard against one wall, dominated the primarily dark room broken up by occasional grey. My nostrils having become accustomed to his scent, flared in appreciation.Hmm.I could live in here forever.
“What about the other room,” I asked distractedly.
“It isn’t a bedroom.” He now stood at the at the window his eyes following me around his room as I inspected this and that. Nearing the bed, I sat down and gathered my hair to braid it, something I always did every night. “Goodnight, Levana.”
“We can share the bed, you know. I won’t bite,” I teased. Sue me for wanting to sleep with my teacher. But which woman wouldn’t want this fine male specimen? Anyway, I figured he owed me for that blow job he so brazenly took with nothing in return.
“Goodnight, Levana,” he repeated, this time gruffly as if annoyed.
I slid under the covers. “Asshole,” I muttered.
Unsure if it was a chuckle I heard, I turned my back on him and shut my lids. Only when the click of the door closing reached my ears, did I look over my shoulder. Already familiar with the disappointment threading through my veins, I sighed. “Goodnight, Mr Sinclair. May your dreams be filled with visions of me.” Then I changed my wish. “May your hard cock keep you up all night.” I grinned into the silence, calmed by the soft glow of a red lava lamp I hadn’t noticed him switching on. The mystery of Saint Sinclair grew in leaps and bounds and with it my intrigue to know what made him tick.
