Page 276 of Hell Hath No Fury
“Hi, Mary. This is my brother, Will.”
“Hey, Jason. Will, nice to meet you.” Mary shakes Will’s hand after he’s dumped armfuls of Fortnum food bags onto the floor. He waves in hasty retreat.
“Likewise, Mary. Sorry, I need a piss.”
“Will!” Jason groans.
“What? Madi can’t exactly repeat what I say yet.” Will holds up his hands in all innocence.
“But Roman is like a sponge, and he can.”
“And is he here, or is he still in nursery school?” Will rolls his eyes, sarcasm coating his rhetorical question.
I lift Madi from her warm cocoon, and still sleeping, I place her in the travel cot we have in the corner of the kitchen. When I turn to face Jason, he is already there, his hands on my cheeks.
“What’s up, baby girl?”
Sighing, I explain what’s clearly written all over my face.
“Roman didn’t get in.”
“The fuck?” Jason mutters under his breath.
“I heard that!” Will yells from the hallway, making me laugh. Jason dips to keep the eye contact, and I brush off my downer and flash a genuine reassuring smile.
“It’s fine. I’m over it. I’ll find somewhere else. There’s plenty of good schools.”
“Good. You know I liked the tree hugging one ’round the corner. Roman loved it. We should send him there.” Jason’s enthusiasm is not a surprise. He wasn’t a fan of St. Michael’s.
“Wait, Sam! You have to fight this. You can’t let Stephanie get away with it,” Mary urges.
“Oh, don’t worry, she won’t.” A devious smile spreads like hot wax across my skin.
“Oh no, I’ve seen that look.” Jason chuckles.
“What look?” Feigning innocence, I place my hand to my chest and flutter my lashes.
“The, ‘someone’s going to be needing arnica’ look.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Jason straightens his bronze moulded chest piece and glances in the mirror in time to catch me gawping. Damn, he looks hot in that get-up. I wonder if we have time—
“Are you sure you want to do this?” The question slices through my wayward thoughts and focuses my mind—a little. I place my hands on my hips and strike a pose.
“Do I look sure?” Swishing my slick ponytail, I lick my thumb and draw it slowly down my cleavage to the top of the red PVC basque, which is currently cinching me in until I can just about breathe.
“You look smoking fucking hot. I want you right now, and these strips of leather are going to do a piss poor job of hiding that fact.” He cups his impressive erection for effect. “Yes, you look sure. All I’m saying is, if you do this, then there is no way Roman will get off that wait list and get a place.”
“They can stick their ‘wait-list’ place up their judgmental arseholes.” I casually let the bullwhip I’m holding unfurl and drop to the floor. I loosen my wrist and work the thick length of leather in a spiralling motion.
“People are always going to judge, Sam; you know that. This is the first time I’ve seen you riled like this, and I have to wonder if this means every time Roman gets a setback you’re going to reach for the hot red leather strapless cat suit and matching bullwhip to sort the problem.” He turns to face me and steps up close and very personal. His aroma washes over me, all manly scent and minty freshness. His eyes darken, and a wicked curl tips his lips upward.
“It might.” I brazen.
“Lucky me.” His mouth crashes to mine, mashing my immaculate red lipstick over us both. The force is sexy as hell, and the way he works his tongue with mine causes a heat all its own to explode right between my legs. When he breaks the kiss, we both take a second to regain our senses. He adjusts his rock-solid erection, which is more than a little evident underneath his gladiator costume. I wipe the smear of lipstick from his lips and look in the mirror to check the state of my face. It needs some serious remedial work. The glossy red is smudged a good few centimetres all around my mouth. I look more like an extra in The Greatest Showman rather than a sexy siren.
“I know people judge, and honestly, the fucks I give are none. Nada. Zero.” Cleaning the residue with a soft cotton pad, I reapply without missing a beat. Snapping the lipstick closed, I turn and face Jason. “However, this is different. This is about hypocrisy, and that deserves a big gun retaliation.” I drop to my haunches to pick up the whip that slipped to the floor when he kissed me. I make a show of uncurling my body, straightening my legs, and dipping forward so my face is close to him. Arching as I ascend, my face is closely followed by my breasts. A crackle of sexual energy fires between us, and as much as he stands his ground, his jaw is ticking nicely by the time we are nose to nose. The six-inch thigh high Louboutins help to even up the normal height difference between us.
