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Lead fills my spine. “Try it. I’ll have you screaming it by the time I’m done with you.”
Her cheeks flame to a deep shade of scarlet.
Maybe she’s better at this shit than I thought she was.
“Grab the purse and let’s get the fuck out of here.”
She bends down to grab it but stops short.
“Uh, Mason?”
I slip my shirt on over my head.
“What now?”
“Umm . . .” and I look at what she’s holding up in her hand.
“Well, shit.”
Melissa’s phone.
Mason
“Hope you like it lukewarm.”
Hannah comes back to the dining room table, setting a mug of sweet tea in front of me withBarbieon the side.
“The ice maker’s broken,” she grimaces, sliding into the seat beside me. “I plugged her phone in, so it should be on soon.”
It’s entirely too fucking close. My head’s still spinning from the way she tasted. The way she felt under my fingertips. I’ve waited two years for that fucking kiss, and yet, now that I’ve had it, I’m disturbed to find the hunger’s still there, glaring me in the face.
Maybe I need to fuck her. Get it out of both our systems so we can move on.
I know myself better than that, though, and I knowher. As much as I’d want it to satiate the need for her, I know it would only fucking make it worse.
And that’s the biggest joke of all, isn’t it?
Fucking Hannah Gaines. Sister to my enemy. Daughter of the biggest crook in the state. Object of every single one of my fucking fantasies.
“This feels like an invasion of privacy,” Hannah says, pulling Melissa’s purse across the table in front of her. Gucci. Of course.
I fix her with a look and she blushes.
“Well, it is. A woman’s purse is sacred.”
“Should we go through yours first?”
“No.”
I nod. “Then open the bag.”
“Fine,” she grumbles, unlatching the top and pulling the pamphlet for the Inner Sanctum out. “Sex club ticket. Check,” she says as if she’s mentally logging everything. “Chapstick—the nasty medicinal one, too—check.” She pauses, look at me when I cock a brow at her. “Fine, sorry.”
Lipstick, old makeup, a thong that Hannah quickly tosses to the side with the end of a pen, a wallet complete with every fucking credit card known to man.
“Could your sister be any more of a cliché?”
Hannah rolls her eyes.
