Hooked: A Dark, Contemporary Romance (Never After #1)(55)

She presses her lips together, shaking her head.

I place it in my own mouth, the juices and seeds exploding on my tongue.

“Mmm,” I hum. “I do love popping a good cherry.” I grin at Peter, my arm dropping from the chair onto Wendy’s shoulders, my fingers tracing her bare skin. Wendy goes stiff as a board underneath me, her gaze trained on her plate. She’s suspiciously quiet, the brazen girl that’s been in my basement suddenly disappearing in her father’s presence.

I find that it irritates me more than it should.

“Wendy,” Peter sighs. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the mansion?” His eyes peer around the table. We have everyone’s attention, and it’s delicious, knowing he wants to make a scene, but can’t act out. But that’s the difference between Peter and me. He has to operate within the constraints of civil society, while I make sure to pad their pockets and dance outside of their edges.

Wendy’s head snaps up at his question, her knuckles whitening as they grip her fork. “What do you mean at the mansion?”

Tina’s hand reaches out to rest on Peter’s forearm, Wendy’s jaw setting at the movement.

Interesting.

“I think what your father is trying to say,” Tina starts. “Is that this is the last place we’d expect you to be.” Her eyes glance over to mine. “And with the last... person.”

I open my mouth to speak, but Wendy beats me to it, my hand falling from her shoulder as she leans forward, her eyes spitting lasers. “And why would it be so surprising to see me here? Because I wasn’t given express permission?”

Peter clears his throat. “Little Shadow—”

Wendy’s glare cuts to him, and arousal rolls through me at her ire.

“Maybe you don’t remember, Dad, but I used to come to these frequently with you.”

Peter glances around, all eyes on the outburst of his daughter.

“And for the record,” Wendy continues, her cheeks growing rosy. “I’ve never needed nor cared about Tina’s opinion on anything, especially concerning where she expects me to be.”

Tina’s mouth gapes open.

I smirk at Wendy’s outburst, heat swarming my body from how attractive she is when she’s swirling in rage.

“Didn’t you care to know where I was when your new security didn’t find me?”

My hand moves to rest on the back of her choker, my fingers slipping underneath the clasp and tugging as a reminder to watch her mouth.

Peter’s eyebrows raise. “Is that what this is? You running away because you didn’t like that I was trying to provide you protection?”

Wendy scoffs, stabbing the lettuce with her fork.

“Control your date,” Tina hisses at me.

I grin, leaning back against my chair. “Now, why would I want to do that?”

This is a delightful turn of events. I hadn’t expected her to be so upset with him.

“Wendy, this isn’t the time or the place.” Peter’s voice is sharp; commanding, as if he’s chastising a child. “Do we need to go somewhere and speak in private?”

Her eyes flick to me. I don’t move, wanting to see what she’ll do if given the opportunity.

She lifts her chin, inhaling deeply, and shaking her head. “No. We have nothing left to say.”

Pleasure at her obedience trickles through me like a leaky faucet, and I have to remind myself that she isn’t someone who I should reward for being good. She’s a traitor.

Although, it’s odd the way she’s interacting with her father, as if they aren’t on good terms.

His eyes stay on hers for long moments, something unspoken passing between them before Tina cuts in. “So, how did you two meet?” She waves her champagne glass between us.

I take a sip of whiskey. Because you sent her into my bar, you pathetic swine.

“He already told you, didn’t he?” Wendy cocks her head. “He popped my cherry.” Gasps sound around the table, and I choke on the liquid of my drink, my hand shooting to my chest to stifle the cough.

“Wendy,” Peter hisses.

She smiles wide. “What is it, Dad? Suddenly deciding to care again?”

Confusion slams into me.

I understand her anger at him not knowing that she was gone—honestly, the thought of it does rankle a bit—but I can’t imagine what she’s getting out of this. They were already working together to destroy me. It shouldn’t be a surprise that we’ve met.

Unless they had no idea.

My stomach cramps, my bruised heart twisting at the notion.

“I think the more important question,” Wendy continues. “Is how did you two meet?” She points her fork at her father and then to me.

Peter steeples his hands in front of his mouth, leaning back in his chair. “Nothing exciting there. We’ve met briefly for business.”

I chuckle, the tips of my fingers caressing the side of Wendy’s neck, my insides tightening with every pass against the choker. My brand of ownership. And a GPS tracker, but that’s neither here nor there.

“Oh, don’t be so modest, Peter,” I quip. “We’ve more than met. In fact, I believe you were well acquainted with those I’m closest with. Seems only fair I return the favor.”