Page 44 of The Saint

Bastien noticed me when I was halfway there. He immediately tuned out the guy talking to him and gave me his bedroom eyes, like I was the only woman in the room, the moon on a starless night.

Adrien never made me feel like that—like I was literally the most important thing in the world.

Bastien nodded to the guys piled in on the side. “Get up. My woman is here.”

The girls shuffled out of the booth, and the guys stood up, continuing their conversations like there hadn’t been an interruption.

I scooted in, making my way around the curved seat toward him.

The back of his hand rested on the leather seat like he wanted me to plant my ass there so he could squeeze it then lift me to him.

I finally made it there, and he did exactly that. Squeezed my ass then cradled me into him as he kissed me, his tongue coated with booze so strong it burned my tongue. Then he put me on his lap, everyone sliding back in and retaking their spots.

He relaxed into the booth as he moved his hand into my hair, his fingers lightly grazing the soft skin of my cheek. His dick was hard underneath me, as if he liked what he saw. “Guys, this is Fleur. Fleur, these are the guys.”

I’d met a bunch of people at the wedding, but these were all new people I’d never seen before. “Nice to meet you all.”

Bastien picked up his conversation again while he rested his fingers between my closed thighs right at the hem of my dress. They talked about absinthe and then drugs, and then they discussed the heroin market in London. It was business as usual, but mixed with a bunch of alcohol.

I didn’t notice that Luca was there right away. Probably because the woman making out with him had blocked him from view when I’d walked in. I didn’t have anyone to talk to and I wasn’t sure what the purpose of my being there was, but Bastien seemed to want me to be included.

Bastien finished his conversation then got the waiter’s attention. “Sweetheart, what do you want?”

“Vodka cranberry would be great.”

He projected his voice to her. “Vodka cranberry for my girl.”

She walked off, clearly disappointed that Bastien was already claimed for the night.

Claimed for all the nights, as far as I was concerned.

He pressed a kiss to my shoulder then squeezed my thighs. “You’re looking fine in this dress.” He stared at my body, his eyes lingering on the deep V in the front that showed my cleavage.

“Not as fine as you look in anything—and nothing.”

He smirked like he found that amusing, but I could tell he appreciated the compliment. He’d probably been hit on a dozen times before I’d arrived, so his ego was practically fatter than aninflated blimp. But he only seemed to care for what I had to say. “I’m gonna fuck you in the bathroom.”

“I’m not screwing in the men’s restroom.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s disgusting.”

“You won’t have to touch anything.”

“How’s that possible?”

“It’s just like the shower. And I know you love the way we fuck in the shower.”

When he held me with his thick arms, strong enough to move me up and down without any sign of fatigue. I was a full-grown woman, but he handled me like a pocket pussy.

He smiled in victory. “Knew that would change your mind.”

I got hot and bothered just thinking about it, how strong he was, the way the tendons over his muscles popped as they flexed. He was the sexiest man in this room, but I was the only one he wanted—and that was a turn-on too. Before my face got too red, I changed the subject. “Who are all these people?”

“Partners. Some are producers. Some distributors. Mainly in arms.”

“Arms?”

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