"Yeah."
There’s silence a beat, then another. I can’t hear him. Where is he? What is he doing?
Something brushes against my lips; I open my mouth again, crunch down on what I assume is a cracker. Fire erupts on my tongue. "What the—?" I splutter. My eyes water. My mouth feels like it’s been doused in flames.
"Here."
The cool edge of glass is placed against my mouth. He holds the back of my head in place. "Drink up."
I hesitate.
"It’s water, Gigi. I am not completely insensitive.”
Right. I chug down the icy liquid and the edge of the searing pain recedes.
"What was that?" I gasp.
"You tell me."
I shake my head, "I barely tasted the food, you jerk."
He chuckles. "Go on, bet you can take a guess."
I set my jaw.
He caresses my pussy, which instantly clenches. Hell, what am I doing? I hate him, yet I need him. I can’t stop my body from leaning into his touch. Push my pelvis forward, so more of his skin connects with mine. Bloody. Hell. "Why are you doing this?" I snarl. "Why can’t you simply fuck me and be done with it."
He leans in close enough for his nose to bump mine. "Because that’s not what you want."
"And you know what I want?"
I sense him nod. "Of course. Why do you think I accepted your offer?"
"Because you want to humiliate me?"
"You mistake my intent." He clicks his tongue, "This was so you could find out more about your tastes."
"That’s what you think this is?" I scoff. "You having my best interests at heart?"
"Not really." He pauses. "I’m using you to get back at the men who changed my life and those of the Seven."
“Has it occurred to you that they’re using me too?”
Silence.
"What…what did they do to you Saint?"
He stiffens. Anger radiates off of him. I flinch.
What the hell am I doing? Why did I ask him that? Is it because my eyes are bound? Is it because I can’t see him, that I am so tuned into him that I can discern the imperceptible edge of fear—helplessness even—that bleeds from him? Nah, that’s my imagination. There is not an ounce of weakness about this man. Not only am I unable to see, but my remaining senses have been fooled by him as well.
"It’s fine," I swallow. "Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know."
"You giving up so easily?" His hard voice whips through my head.
I straighten. "Giving up?" I allow a smile to curve my lips. "I haven’t made it this far by losing hope. It’s the only thing I have to cling to." And you? What about you? Why do I want to lean on you? What insanity is this, that even bound and blindfolded, knowing he can do anything to me, I trust him…to play with my body any which way he wants?
That’s all this is—a carnal need for him to possess me, break me, show me how it can be between a woman and a man. So what, if there aren’t any emotions involved? It’ll make it easier for me to lure him to whatever… Whatever it is that the Mafia has planned for him. I don’t care what happens after that. I don’t. As long as they free my friend. That’s all this is about. It doesn’t matter that my heart will be shattered by the end. I’ll find a way to go on. I always do. I tip up my chin, "Chili pepper."
"What?" He sounds surprised.
"That was a five-spice sauce."
"You’re right."
He pauses, then tears the blindfold from my eyes. I blink. His face comes into focus. "So…you’ll untie me now?"
He scratches his chin.
I frown. "The deal was, if I got the answers right you would—"
"I would...?"
An understanding sinks into my mind. "You… You…"
"I’ll…?" he prompts.
"You’ll let me come?" I train my gaze on his face. Please. Please say, yes. Please.
He shakes his head.
I stare.
"I changed my mind," he smirks.
"What?" That familiar anger thrums up my spine. My blood thuds at my temples and my heartbeat ratchets up.
He steps to the cart, scoops up some of that last spicy dip onto his cracker, then pops it in his mouth. Color sears his cheeks, then he reaches for more of the Champagne and washes it down. "Whew, you weren’t kidding there. It is hot."
"You…you horrible man."
He chuckles.
"You can’t do this to me."
He cuts off a slice of cheese—not the blue cheese, something else that looks like cheddar?—and bites into it. His jaws move. He tips the bottle of Champagne up, then chugs down more liquid. The strong column of his throat flexes as he swallows it down. Why the hell does he have to look sexy, doing something as simple as eating? He reaches for a strawberry, is about to pop it into his mouth then stops.
"Do you like strawberries, Gigi?"
"What?"
He frowns, "Answer the question."
Class-A wanker. That’s what he is. A douchebag of the first order. A bloody, horrendous brute of a man who…hides a hurt that is eating away at him from the inside. I blink. Shit, I don’t need flashes of insight about his character… That will only elicit empathy for him. Am I looking for a spark of redemption in this guy? No, that would only make what I have to do to him so much worse.
I purse my lips and he scowls, "Yes or No?"
Shit, nothing is simple with this guy, is it? He is so…so…complicated.
He glares at me and I shiver. My scalp tingles and my toes curl. Oh, shit, this…is not going to end well. Not at all. "Yes," I croak. "I… I love strawberries."
"So do I." His eyes twinkle , "Especially when they’re soaked in your cum." He steps around, then drops to his knees between my still-parted legs.
29
Saint
I press the fruit into the opening of her pussy. She inhales. I drag the strawberry up her dripping cunt, then bring it to my mouth. I bite into the fruit and the tart, tangy, fruity taste bursts on
