and a long, metal bar top surrounded the rest of the high tables fixed around the room.
Rogue led me off the entrance, to the hallway that led to the back employee area. It was semi-private, but I could still see into the bar area. Rogue studied me, taking in my outfit for the first time, but the lust in his eyes didn’t replace his anger. It only seemed to magnify it.
He braced a hand on the wall behind me, caging me in. “You kissed him.”
I frowned, taken aback. “What? Who?”
“Clayton Hammond,” he gritted out.
I rolled my eyes. “Rogue, I gave him a kiss on the cheek. As a friend. I was thanking him for going with me to the cotillion class.”
Rogue looked me up and down again. “I don’t give a shit. I don’t want you kissing him.”
When I went to scoff, he reached up and grabbed hold of my jaw. “These lips belong to me,” he said, making the blood in my veins pump faster. “The only place they should ever be is on mine, or wrapped around my cock.”
I reached up and smacked his hand off of my face. His eyes flared, but I met him with just as much anger. “Don’t be a hypocrite,” I threw back at him.
His frown deepened. “What?”
I crossed my arms, ready to read him the riot act. I wanted to yell and scream, to punch him in his stupidly handsome face for managing to hurt me so soon after having sex. “Tell me, does the same rule apply to you now? Or do you get to kiss and fuck and get your dick sucked by just anyone?”
“Scarlett—”
“No,” I cut him off and laughed bitterly. “You know what, Rogue? I shouldn’t be surprised. I really shouldn’t. It’s not like we’re officially dating. We fucked a few times. That’s it,” the words tasted bitter in my mouth. “But out of all people, does it have to be her?”
He ran a hand through his dark hair in frustration. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Stephanie Palmisano,” I shot back. “You visit her house every week.” I watched his eyes widen, and I knew right then that it was true.
I shook my head and shoved past him, but he grabbed me and whirled me back around, pinning me again. “Don’t walk away from me.”
“Get off me, or I’ll scream,” I said levelly.
Instead of doing what I asked, the asshole dropped a hand and shoved it under my dress. I brought my palms against his chest to push him away, but when I felt his fingers run over my panties, I let a whimper escape my parted lips. I wanted to claw at him, but instead, my fingers fisted into his crisp, white shirt. He dipped under, pulling my panties to the side so that his finger could rub against my clit, and I had to bite back a moan.
He leaned in, pressing his breath against my neck. “You’re wet.”
“Not for you,” I lied. I wasn’t sure why I bothered. Rogue could read me like a fucking book. He knew how well my body responded to him.
He chuckled darkly, and the sound shot straight to my core as his fingers continued to dance over my nub. “You can’t lie to me, Scar. I know you better than you know yourself.”
“You don’t know me,” I said, but he shoved a finger inside of me, and my head fell back against the wall in bliss.
“I do know you. I know everything. I know that you like that I have you here, pinned against this wall, where anyone could walk by and see me fucking you with my hand.” His dirty words only added to my euphoria, and I could feel myself already near orgasm as he added a second finger and started pumping into me. “I know that you’re mine, and that you’re about to come all over my fingers.”
I didn’t want to, just to spite him, but he was right. I did like being there, teetering on exhibitionism. I liked that someone could walk by any second and catch us. So even though part of me wanted to hold back and not give in to an orgasm, I was too out of my mind with excitement. When my orgasm hit me, I leaned forward and smashed my lips against his. I practically fucked his mouth with my tongue as he fucked my pussy with his fingers, and he swallowed my every moan and whimper until I was done.