I twist to face him, lifting my chin so I can shoot him with a fiery glare. “Leave me the fuck alone, psycho.”
Scout’s eyes flash with violence making my heart skip a few beats. Before he can respond, my phone rings in my hand. I answer the FaceTime call and bring it to my face.
“Hello, Mr. Constantine,” I greet. “I was expecting your call.”
Winston’s glare is fierce as he takes in the reflection in the mirror. Three awful boys crowding me. My hand shakes making the camera move.
“Is everything okay? Those children aren’t bothering you, are they?” His voice is sharp and cold. “I wouldn’t want to have to tattle to their mommy.”
Scout’s hateful stare cuts through me. “She’s our sister. We’re just checking up on her. Tell Mr. Constantine you’re safe. Come now. Mom is expecting us.” He plucks the phone from my grip and hangs up, his dark eyes dragging over my front, lingering at my breasts.
“There you are, dear,” a voice booms upon entering the bathroom. “It’s time to leave. Something came up. I do hope your family will understand your hasty exit.”
My heart tumbles in my chest at seeing Winston freaking Constantine storming to my aid like a fucked-up Prince Charming.
All three boys step back. I snatch my phone from Scout’s grip and rush into Winston’s arms. He’s stiff when I hug him. His large palm rests on my ass over my dress, squeezing my cheek like he owns it. I snuggle closer to him.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
“If you’ll excuse us, boys, we have grown-up things to do now.” Winston gives my ass a playful smack. “Let’s get you some coffee. We have a long night of . . . work . . . ahead of us.”
I know he’s saying these things to rile up the triplets and piss them off, but it still sends a thrill down my spine.
“I’m looking forward to it, Mr. Constantine.”
17
Winston
I’m not a stalker.
I just wanted to see her pretty cheeks turn pink as I texted her filthy shit while she tried to dine with her stepmother. From my perch at the bar in the restaurant, I had a prime view, too. Everything was going well, satisfying even when I managed to get that waiter fired on the spot for not only staring a little too long but by placing the napkin back in her lap. As though that piece of shit even had a chance with someone like Ash. I’d been eager to send her to the bathroom, get her worked up, and then I planned on surprising her.
But things got away from me.
Nate called to warn me about Ash’s intentions with me. He thinks she wants to marry a Constantine. That she’ll use me for my money. If he only knew… He comes from a good place, though, worrying over my wellbeing. I do, however, question what prompted his sudden concern. Ash Elliott doesn’t have the skill to take advantage of a man like me. And if she’s really hoping for a ring, the poor girl is delusional. That ship sailed a long time ago, thanks to a girl who broke my heart when I actually had one. I can play with Ash, but no one—not even a naughty girl so willing to please me—will have the opportunity to know that part of me again. Later, when she and I are alone, I’ll make sure she understands it, too.
When I finally got rid of Nate, read her texts, and saw her hot-as-hell smooth pussy, I was ready to fuck her raw. Then, I noticed those bastards had arrived and were following my girl to the restroom. The triplets who have a death wish.
I wanted to kill them.
Hell, I still do.
I’m not used to feeling so out of control. Ash brings out the worst in me, and I can’t help but feel a thrill from it.
The triplets are a problem, though, which is why as soon as I get back to my computer, I’m going to find out where those monsters plan on going to college so I can fuck with them for terrorizing Ash. I thought tattling to their mommy would be enough, but it’s clear they’re not going to leave her alone until I send a message they can get through their thick skulls.
“You’re too quiet,” Ash says from the passenger seat, tugging at the hem of her silky dress.
“I’m thinking.”
“Does it hurt?”
I glance over at her, amused at the silly grin on her face. “No, smartass. It doesn’t hurt. But since you’re feeling playful and we didn’t get to finish our game, I think sitting in traffic is a perfect time to play.”
“Why do I feel like I’m going to hate this?”
“You won’t hate it, dirty girl. You’re learning you’re just as fucked up as I am.”
She sighs in resignation because we both know it’s true. This goes beyond the money. Sure, she loves it, because who doesn’t love money? But this is more. She’s turned on by my creative depravity. I love exposing her to it. Infecting her with my filth.