Page 30 of Obsessed by My Ex's Mafia Uncle

Chapter Five

Christine

“Not happening.” I move, my foot stamps hard against the floor before I even realize I’m doing it. “Screw you.”

Then I turn and dash for the bathroom like a door between us will make his words disappear.

It doesn’t.

Nothing about this disappears.

The bathroom light floods on the second I step in, too bright at first, bouncing off white marble that extends across the floor and climbs halfway up the walls.

Gold trims cut through it, lining the mirror, the edges of the sink, the handles that gleam like they’ve never been touched. The glass shower sits to the side, spotless, exposed, like everything in here is meant to be seen.

Everything is too clean.

Too open.

Like there’s nowhere to hide.

I grip the edge of the sink, staring at my reflection, my chest heaving too fast, my lips parted, my skin still flushed from his words.

My stomach drops.

Oh my God.

The realization hits me so suddenly that I physically jerk back from the mirror.

He saw.

Heat floods my face, humiliating, crawling down my neck, twisting into my chest like something suffocating.

My fingers clench around the sink as it all crashes in at once: every sound I made, every movement, every second I thought I was alone.

I let out a shaky breath, but it doesn’t help anything.

It makes it worse.

“God…” I whisper, dragging a hand over my face.

How long was he watching?

My mind tries to piece it together, tries to track back, and I don’t want it to. I don’t want to know which parts he saw, how much of me he has already taken without even touching me.

And the worst part is how my body reacts to being watched by him.

Even with the shame sitting in my chest, twisting my guts, there's something else underneath it.

Something hot.

Something that makes my stomach drop for a completely different reason.

Something that makes my sex throbs.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

No.