Page 31 of Sinful Chains

It was beautiful. Moving. Inspirational.

The only hitch was Cruz. When Osirus said, "I do," Cruz's silly ass thought he was whispering when he said, "Clink, clink, nigga." He didn't realize the whole altar was mic'd up, and his little joke had reached even the people in the cheap seats.

He got a big laugh.

After he apologized, things moved right along. Now, the reception was at hand.

The grand ballroom of the Lynx Club was dripping in metallic accents and filled with candlelight, the scent of roses in the air. Anika was glowing, Osirus looked smug and satisfied, and the champagne was flowing, getting us all relaxed and loose.

But none of that shit was holding my attention.

Santari.

FuckingSantari.

She looked like a vision in that red dress. It hugged her curves like somebody sewed it onto her flesh. The slit teased glimpses of her thick brown thigh with every step she took, and them damn red bottoms—fuck. The way she moved, the way she carried herself, the way she snatched the attention from every other woman in this room…it did something to me.

I stuck a hand in the inside pocket of my jacket, fondling a different pair of Santari's panties. No lace, today, just cotton and lightweight and fuckingsexy.

Cruz had his hand at the small of her back all night, guiding her wherever she needed to go. He kept leaning in to whisper shit in her ear. Her laugh mesmerized me. Andwhen Titan was in the mix, he was glued to her side, charming her, making little comments that made her smile.

But she seemed to be ignoring me.

The most I’d gotten all night was a wink, and then…nothing.

That shit turned me on.

Because I knew she’d finally caught on to what this was, and she was giving me what I needed. She was playing with me like a cat plays with a mouse before the kill.

An ordinary man would’ve been embarrassed by how she was treating me. But I ain’t no ordinary man, as evidenced by the heat racing through my veins and the stiffness in my groin.

I loved this shit.

Sipping my bourbon, nodding along to the conversations around me, bobbing my head to the music coming from the DJ booth…all pointless distractions from her. My focus never strayed far. I saw it all. I saw the way other men looked at her. I saw how the waitstaff hovered a little too long when it was time to serve her. And I saw how she basked in it, owning her power.

The stiffness grew to a strong ache.

Maybe she’d give me a little attention. Just a glance. Another wink.Something.

Under the table, I pulled out my phone and typed a quick text.

You’re KILLING me San

I watched her as she felt the vibration. Her delicate fingers picked up her phone from the table. She glanced at the screen, smirking as she read.

Then she set it back down.

No reply.

Not even so much as a passing look over at me.

My fingers tightened around my glass. I took a deep breath, willing myself to keep my composure.

"Fuck wrong witchu, bruh?"

I looked to my left at Lil Mike, unsure of how much he'd seen. Or clocked. His brows knitted in concern, making me laugh.

"I'm chillin'," I lied. "Happy for my brother, that's all."

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