Page 59 of Savage Saint
"Don't laugh at me." I pout, not that she can see.
"I'm not. I'm sorry. Tell me what happened."
What the hell. I've got to talk to someone about this, and the squirrels are not in a listening mood today. "He's so hot and cold it's giving me a headache." The hangover should be to blame, but let's be honest. If there was no Angelo, there wouldn't have been any need for alcohol. Or at least that's what I'm telling myself.
"As is the Santoro way."
"Honestly, it's confusing. And then, last night in the pool—"
Alessa bursts out laughing.
"What?"
"I'm sorry." She barely manages to get the words out through her laughing fit. "It's just—It's just, I swear there's something about the Santoros and their pools. Remind me to tell you aboutmy own pool adventure with Dante sometime. Anyway, I'm so sorry for interrupting. Please tell me, what happened in the pool?"
"I'd rather hear your story?" I try to change the subject.
"Not today. Today we're discussing what happened in Angelo's pool and why it has you so wired."
Jesus, she's relentless.
"I don't quite know what happened. I was drinking his whiskey, and he caught me. So I jumped into the pool because I was already buzzed, and it felt like a good idea. He was so wound up, so rigid… I guess, I just—Fuck."
"Wanted to poke the bear?" Alessa asks enthusiastically.
"Kind of. I just wanted to tease him."
"Literally my favourite pastime."
"To tease Angelo?"
"To tease a Santoro. You should see Dante go red in the face when I wind him up. Kid you not, he's as red as Terence, the bird from Angry Birds. Anyway, I interrupted again. Please continue."
"I don't quite remember what I said. My lips were loose from all the alcohol in my system, but next thing I know, he steps off the ledge, still wearing his suit, shoes and all. Then he's next to me, backing me against the side of the pool, crowding me in."
"Did he… Did he force himself on you?"
"God, no!" I reply instantly. "I wanted more. So much more, but he just—he leaned to kiss me and then he stopped himself, being all like:Go inside, Butterfly. You don't want to find out what happens if you don't," I mock his voice.
"Tell me you stayed."
I sigh. "I didn't. I don't know what I'm doing, Alessa. I want him. God help me, I want him. But I don't even remember who I am. What if I'm…" I swallow hard. "What if I'm too broken?" What ifhebreaks me even more?
The silence stretches between us before Alessa speaks, her voice soft."Kasia, you're not—"
The phone is wrenched from my hand so suddenly I gasp. Angelo's huge frame blocks the sunlight, his face hard as granite as he lifts the phone to his ear.
"She'll call you back, Alessa," he rumbles, his voice deep and rough like he's been gargling gravel. He ends the call with a decisive tap, his eyes never leaving my face.
"What the fuck?" I sputter, pushing myself off the counter. "You can't just—"
His hands shoot out, gripping my waist with a finality that steals my breath. In one fluid motion, he lifts me up and plants my ass on the marble countertop, stepping between my thighs like he belongs there. His body radiates heat, the scent of his sweat and whatever expensive shower gel he uses making my head spin worse than any hangover.
"Talking about me behind my back, Butterfly?" he asks, voice dangerously quiet.
I open my mouth to lie, to deny it all, but nothing comes out. Those dark eyes see right through me, pinning me in place more effectively than his hands on my thighs. His grip isn't painful, but it screams of possession, of dominance.
"I heard you. From upstairs." His thumbs start moving in slow circles over the bare skin where my shorts have ridden up. "Every. Fucking. Word."
