Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 102693 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102693 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
“I’ll be there.”
“I’m trusting you,” he says, and I hear a door open again wherever he is.
“You can always trust me.”
“Brantley…” a girl’s voice comes through the other end on a whine. “Come back out!”
All of the feelings that were brewing inside my belly suddenly pause.
“What? Fuck no. Get out.” He slams the door shut.
“I’ll leave you to it.” I didn’t mean to sound so cold, but it came out that way. These guys are just Brantley, Bishop, Eli, and Nate to me, but I’m starting to learn they’re gods to everyone else.
“Saint… don’t be stupid.”
“Bye. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Sai—”
I hang up on him. When my phone rings again, I turn it off. Maybe I’m being immature, but I’ll chalk it up to my age. I’m seventeen, they’re all early twenties, but I know deep down that’s not it.
Tossing and turning and knowing I won’t get any more sleep after that whole conversation, I find the clothes I’m going to wear, something comfortable for the flight home, and take a quick shower. By the time I’m dressed and cooking breakfast, the sun is rising through the windows, setting the sky on fire. Through my frying eggs, I go back and forth on whether I should turn my phone on, but I end up on no. No, because I know he’s going to be angry at me and I can’t face it right now. And anyway, by the time I get back to the US, he’ll be calmed down, right?
Brantley
I flick the Swiss Army knife around my fingers, the limo idling on the tarmac. My hair is a mess, I haven’t slept since she fucking hung up on me, and on top of all that bullshit, her flight was delayed because of the weather, so what happens when you get this tragic concoction of unfortunate events? You are left with a deprived fucking monster awaiting to unleash all its wrath the only way he knows how.
The window separator winds down. “Sir, she just touched down.”
I clench my jaw, nodding. “Good. I’ll wait here while you help Miss Vitiosis with her bags.”
He nods, sliding out of the car and making his way to the trunk. I watch as the black jet with the gold lettering EKC rolls into view, my teeth clenched so tight I’m almost certain they’re about to crack. I watch as the steps roll out and finally, she comes walking out. Her belly showing, with a small crop top hoodie and black yoga pants. She looks like a fucking model fresh off the runway, if she wasn’t so fucking short.
She notices the car and I watch as her body stills slightly.
I smirk, even though I know she can’t see me.
She slowly makes her way down the stairs, heading straight for the car. When she’s reaching for the handle, I swing the door open and it hits her on the hand.
She flings it back. “Ouch.” Before sliding in. She slams the door closed, her eyes on mine. Saint is what you would call demure. She has more self-restraint when it comes to keeping her mouth shut, but when she talks, people listen. They take her seriously. She doesn’t waste her breath on drama, or bullshit fights. It’s what I like most about her, but right now I don’t like her that fucking much.
Her arms cross in front of her. She was smart sliding opposite me, a decent arm’s reach away. We sit in silence until the driver is back in the front and the window is back up. Some MGK song is playing in the background and I keep my eyes fixed on her. She does everything she can to ignore me, which admittedly only makes me more amused.
Her eyes finally come to mine. “I’m sorry! Okay!”
I don’t answer, boring my eyes into hers. At first they were a shade of green, but as she got older, they turned a greyish blue. Fucking weird. I slowly shake my head.
“Brantley…” she deadpans. “I don’t want you angry with me.”
“Oh, I’m angry with you.”
“I had to go and help her!”
“That’s not why, though…”
She pauses, her fingers twisted in her lap. “Then why?”
I run my tongue over my teeth. “Come sit on my lap and find out.”
I watch as she struggles with what I’ve said. Slowly, she peels off her belt and moves across to me. When she’s taking too long, I snake my arm out and drive her onto my lap. Her knees hit either side of me, her hands on my neck. She notices the knife in my hand.
“Can we have this talk without that?”
“Nope.” I grin up at her, my eyes flicking between her mouth and her eyes.
She relaxes in my arms, dropping her lips down to mine. She wants soft, but she’s not going to get it. My fingers wrap around the back of her neck to hold her against me, my tongue diving into her mouth. She moans, and I bite down on the swell of her bottom lip, dragging my teeth over the curve. She removes her shirt, and I watch as she slowly peels herself naked for me. Inch by inch. I leave her to it. She pulls on my belt, and I inch up so my jeans can slip over the swelling of my cock.