Page 89 of Sinister Intentions

I ignored her protests and turned around with her draped over my shoulder. “Hold still, Punk,” I said and tightened my hand over her ass while looking for Isabella and Michele.

Jemma was still squirming, her fists pounding against my back, her legs kicking uselessly.

“I swear to God, if you don’t put me down right now?—”

“You’ll what?” I growled, giving her ass a sharp smack. “Hack into my bank account this time?”

She gasped, momentarily stunned into silence. Then she renewed her struggles with even more vigor. “I’ll kill you.”

I could feel the eyes of some passersby on us, but I couldn’t care less. Let them stare. All I cared about was getting this infuriating woman somewhere I could keep an eye on her and kiss the sass out of her.

“I got her purse,” Isabella said, the second she stepped outside alongside Michele.

“Get in the car,” I barked and glared at Isabella. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Bella shrugged her shoulders. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

I narrowed my eyes. “We’ll talk about that later. I want you to stay at Matt’s tonight.”

Jemma squirmed again but suspended her violent outbursts. “Hey, how do the two of you know each other?” she suddenly asked.

Bella bent around me. “He’s my massively annoying big brother,” she said. “I’m Isabella Salvini, by the way, nice to meet you. I’ll trust our little secret stays between us.”

Little secret? What the hell?

“Get in the car. Now.” I glared at Isabella, my frustration mounting.

She rolled her eyes but complied after she handed me Jemma’s purse, then sauntered off towards the waiting vehicle. “Make sure she’s going straight to Matt’s,” I said to Michele, who nodded and slipped into the car next to Isabella.

Jemma was still draped over my shoulder, but her struggles had subsided into a sullen silence.

I could feel the heat of her body against mine, and it was doing nothing to calm the storm of emotions raging inside me.

“You too, Punk,” I growled, carrying her towards the second car while signaling to my men I would drive myself. “We’re going to have a long talk about your little adventure tonight.”

As I approached the car, I carefully lowered her to her feet but kept a firm grip around her waist.

She swayed slightly, the alcohol clearly affecting her balance.

“I can walk by myself,” she muttered, trying to shake off my arm.

“Sure you can,” I replied sarcastically, opening the passenger door. “In you go.”

I helped her into the seat, ignoring her protests, then rounded the hood and slid behind the wheel. I caught a whiff of her scent mixed with the scent of alcohol. It was still intoxicating, but I had to force myself to focus.

“Where are we going?” Jemma asked, her words still slightly slurred.

My stomach tightened. Home to my apartment was where I would take her. “Somewhere where the two of us can have it out, without an audience,” I replied curtly. “Somewhere I can keep an eye on you until you’re fit enough to go back to your father.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Clearly, you do,” I retorted, my anger flaring again. “What were you thinking, disappearing like that, getting drunk in public like that? Do you have any idea how stupid that was?”

Jemma turned to face me, her green eyes blazing with defiance. “I was perfectly safe, and I was just having some fun with my friends.” She scoffed. “Something you clearly know nothing about.”

I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to shake some sense into her. “Fun? You call dancing on a bar, exposing yourself to God knows who while getting shitfaced, fun?”

She sighed and looked outside the window, and murmured something I didn’t catch.

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