Shameless - Sybil Bartel Page 0,75

the fucking bastard. Points for him, it’d worked.

“I didn’t ask you for family advice.”

“Maybe you should.” Her father didn’t give a fuck about her, especially now that she was damaged goods. That much was clear, but her stepmother sure as fuck gave a damn.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Summer yanked her arm out of my grasp. “You tossed me to the curb, but now you show up telling me how to live my life? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Fucking Christ, she was infuriating. “That’s what this is about? You think I tossed you aside?” Getting angrier by the second, I got in her face. “Sending you home was the right thing to do.” There was no goddamn power, for fuck’s sake.

“Yeah,” she scoffed. “And you always do the right thing.”

I didn’t lose my shit. A decade in the Marines, and I never fucking lost it. I didn’t panic. I didn’t make rash decisions, and I sure as hell never backed down from a firefight no matter what the odds were.

Adapt and overcome. Work the fucking problem. There was always a goddamn solution. But right now, my hand was twitching with the overwhelming urge to throttle her and I was so close to losing my mind, I could feel myself coming unglued.

The problem was I didn’t want to just strangle her, I wanted to fuck her.

I wanted to rip that tight-as-hell gold dress off her body and watch her tits bounce before I sucked the fuck out of her hard nipples. I wanted her so goddamn pent up that she was begging for it.

Because nothing short of seeing her fucking jones for a high only I could give her was going to tame the savage shit in my head. I wanted her tight little cunt so goddamn wet, that the second I rammed my hardware in her, she’d detonate.

But we were in a bullshit ballroom in the middle of a charity event with witnesses, and I couldn’t throw her over my shoulder and carry her the fuck out of here without causing a scene. Not that I gave a shit about causing a scene, but fuck me, I gave a shit about her.

“You’re right.” I knew she was being sarcastic with her last dig, but I didn’t give a shit. I was going to set her straight. “Where you’re concerned, I did do the right thing. The kitchen floor was riddled with bullets, windows were broken, there was no goddamn heat and a blizzard was raging. Getting you out of there was my priority.”

“And then what?” she challenged. “How long did it take you to fix all that?”

It wasn’t fixed. Half the holes in the floor were filed with putty waiting until I could get more supplies up there because I’d run out of materials. The downstairs sliders were replaced, but the upstairs windows were boarded. Blood stains still covered the rugs, the power still hadn’t been restored, and the deck was shot all to hell. But I’d locked everything up and came back down the mountain. Then I’d sat on Vincenzo’s place for the past forty-eight hours making sure the fuck didn’t go near her, but I didn’t tell her that. “What’s your point?” I knew what her point was.

“Your phone wasn’t working?”

I ground my back teeth. “You wanted me to call.” It wasn’t a question. I was standing right fucking here. My presence trumped any damn phone call.

For three seconds she stared at me.

Then I saw the shift in her eyes before her chest rose with a Dear John inhale. Pasting on a fake as shit smile that didn’t touch the rest of her face, her voice went full-tilt placating socialite. “Thank you for looking after me, Mr. Domani. I appreciate everything you did for me and my family. Goodbye.” She spun on her fuck-me heels.

Momentarily stunned, her ass was out of the ballroom and halfway across the lobby before my feet moved.

I FLED.

Fighting tears, feeling like a coward, I didn’t stand there and fight for what I wanted. I walked away.

My stomach in knots, my head spinning, I didn’t know what had happened but all I knew was that he’d had an opportunity to at least call me and he didn’t. He’d had a chance to explain before sending me off, and he didn’t. He’d had all the opportunity in the world to tell me I was more than a single fuck, but all he’d said before sending me away was watch it.