Page 15 of The Sweetest Revenge

Dennis hummed without looking up from his phone.

I rolled my eyes. This wasn't my family, and I wasn't theirs.

My mother's smile brightened. "So, Zaiden. It must be nice having your sister at school with you."

I coughed, nearly choking on the mashed potatoes I was about to swallow as my gaze flashed up, widening on her. She was completely oblivious to what she'd said. I wasn't Zaiden's sister. His sister was dead. I flicked a sideways glance at him to see if he was about to lose his shit or play into my mother's delusion.

"My sister?" he repeated as a question before his gaze shifted to me. "Yeah." His gaze dropped to my chest. "It's nice having my sister around." I froze when his large hand curled around my bare knee.

My gaze flashed to him, glaring in warning.

What the fuck was he doing?

"Oh shoot," my mother said. "I forgot the rolls." She pushed back from the table and disappeared into the kitchen.

My hand sank below the table, wrapping around his wrist and shoving his hand away, but he didn't move.

"Hands on the table." The command slipped under his breath, barely audible but unmistakable.

I gritted my teeth, shaking my head as my eyes darted to his dad, then back.

He held his phone between us—the video of me and Coach Palmer playing silently.

"Hands." His voice dropped an octave. "On the." Each word was as precise as a knife point. "Table."

My chest rose and fell with deep breaths as fear and anger pushed up my throat. The worst thing that could happen was for Zaiden to show my mother that video. It would only give her something else to hold over my head for the rest of my life. I would rather lose my scholarship than have my mom see that video.

Dropping my gaze to my plate, I swallowed my anger as I pulled my hand out from underneath the table and placed it flat.

"That's a good girl," he whispered so only I could hear him. Not that his dad would hear it if Zaiden were hanging upside down from the chandelier, shouting it. "Now spread your legs for me, baby." I shook my head. He laughed, hitting play on the video again.

"Fine," I whispered, stiffening my spine as I spread my legs for him. "Put the video away."

"Here we go," my mother said, setting a basket of rolls on the table. "So where were we?" She slid back into her seat.

My stomach fluttered, and my heart pounded when he trailed his fingertips up my inner thigh and under my dress.

"Is something wrong with the food, Ari?” my mother asked, zeroing in on my plate. I shook my head. "Well, eat, dear."

"Yeah," Zaiden added. "You should eat."

My jaw clenched as I forced a smile and picked up my fork. I didn't want to eat; I wanted to throat punch him. I shoved my fork into the mashed potatoes and then brought the fork to my lips. He groaned as he ran his fingers over the damp material of my panties.

"So, how's the dance team going, Ari?" My mother asked.

"Good," I huffed out, completely focused on what Zaiden's hand was doing.

"Well, tell me about it," my mother insisted.

"Yeah," Zaiden added as his fingers found my clit making little circles around it. Teasing. Taunting me. The thin material of lace between my legs brushed against my clit with every circle making my breath hitch. "Tell us about it."

My cheeks heated with embarrassment as his hand continued to stroke me, and all eyes except Dennis's were on me. "Um," I cleared my throat, trying to focus on my words and not his fingers. "It's fun, and Journey and Mila are on the team." He added more pressure, and my stomach muscles clenched. A moan pushed past my lips.

"What was that, dear?" my mother asked.

"Nothing," I snapped, gripping the edge of my plate with both hands. "I was just saying I can't wait for the season to kick off."

"Any new boyfriend prospects?" She smiled.

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