Page 33 of Ruin
I slam the door behind him, and sag against it, on the verge of tears, humiliated and furious.
Swiping the back of my hand over my cheeks, I throw the blanket off me and yank the strappy dress that Tommy was so worried about off the hanger and pull it over my head.
Fuck Tommy and his bullshit control game. Two hours ago, I had no intention of wearing this dress, nor did I view tonight as a date with Antonio.
But now I’m on a mission, and Antonio is the perfect target.He wants to tell everyone that he fucked me? Well, maybe we turn that into a reality. Since I know that’s all he wants and it will piss Tommy off, I can handle both these men and rip up my V card at the same time.
I make Antonio wait a full half-hour while I do my hair, put on makeup, and pick out a sexy thong to go with my dress. No bra needed. The goal is easy access in and out.
But not sober. I’m going to need a drink or five first.
Fucking Tommy. God damn it.
When I finally sweep downstairs, I barely pause as I grab my coat before storming past Antonio. “Let’s go.”
His eyes widen as his gaze rakes over my thigh boots and skimpy dress, but he immediately jumps up and follows me. No argument. No “If you want me, you’ll have to promise me forever first.” Easy.
When Antonio closes my car door and circles to the driver side, I see Tommy leaning against the side of the house, arms crossed, ball cap pulled low, hood up.
I flip him off as Antonio gets behind the wheel.
“Ready?” Antonio grins, sliding his hand up my thigh as the engine purrs to life.
My phone buzzes with a text from Tommy.
You have my cum dripping off your pussy, Giovanna.
Get out of the fucking car.
Fuck
all
the
way
off
I throw the phone in my bag, but it buzzes with text after text the entire way to the restaurant.
When we park, Antonio frowns at my bag suspiciously. “Something going on that you need to deal with?”
“Nope,” I say, grabbing my bag and jumping out of the car. This night can’t end fast enough.
I walk ahead of Antonio into the restaurant and get us a table. He picked a nice place, I’ll give him that. Cozy, small tables with tablecloths and clusters of candles. Deep gray hardwood floors and black accent walls give it a sleek vibe.
When the hostess seats us, I grab her arm before she leaves. “Vodka tonic, please, squeeze of lime.”
I know I don’t look 21, and she’s unsure until Antonio, looking older than his 23 years, orders the same.
I give him a quizzical look. “You drink vodka tonics?”
He grins. “No, but I figured you’d want another one and didn’t want you to go through a hassle for it.”
“I have a fake ID, Antonio. Get what you want.”
“I’m driving, babe,” he says easily, picking up the menu. “Your father would skin me alive if I didn’t get you home in one piece.”
