Saints (SAINTS #1) | ✓

26

THE PARTY WAS ALREADY in full swing when Isaac parked his car. Jasmina had let the sins go ahead, her plan already in motion as Isaac rested his hand on the small of her back and they walked in the mansion. Everywhere she looked people were laughing, drinking questionable liquids from red cups and stumbling, loud pop music blaring through the house.

"You look gorgeous tonight," Isaac whispered as he leaned closer, his lips brushing her ear.

"I know," she said as her full, ruby-painted lips tugged up in a smile.

She was clad in an off-shoulder, black dress made out of lace and a dangerously high hemline, the rose pin on her breastpocket and the bottom of her Louboutins the only other hint of color on her. She looked like a promise of sin and she knew it.

She looked at Isaac then. He was handsome, his aristocratic features and Tom Ford blazer only adding to the scent of money around him. Still, even though he and Alan both were rich guys at the top of the world, they couldn't be any different. She had always been good at reading people, but it wasn't even needed with Isaac. He was simple, clear in his actions, no ulterior motive behind anything he did as he listened to her talk.

Despite the rumors of his womanizing, charming ways, she could easily tell it wasn't just meaningless flirting around her. Be it from the warmth in his honey eyes every time he glanced at her when he thought she wasn't looking to the worried hesitation on his cheeks when he carefully tried intimate gestures, the boy was absolutely infatuated with her.

"Thank you," she added as an afterthought, before her gaze returned to the party again.

"Did you just thank me?" he said, stopping dead in his tracks as he stared at her in wonder.

"I'm going to take it back if you're going to make a big deal about it," she said, her usual smirk on her lips as she nodded at some influential people.

"No, nothing like that," he grinned," I'm actually happy. You're not one to thank people, so should I take this as a sign that you care about me, Jasmina?"

She glanced at him, amused. "Do you want me to care for you so bad?"

He placed a hand beside her head then and she leaned against the wall behind her, folding her arms over each other as she looked up at him.

"Horribly so," he said as he dipped his head down towards her, eyes locked with hers, before trailing down to her lips.

"Playing with fire will get you burned, Isaac," she drawled.

"Burn me," he whispered against her skin.

He flicked his gaze back up again as his lips grazed across hers, but when he didn't read any refusal in her gaze, he smiled. He deepened the kiss and she almost chuckled at his giddy happiness.

And then he was pushed off her.

"Right on time," she whispered, her voice so soft that no one caught it as she looked at the intruder.

There was no surprise in her eyes when she locked gazes with Alan, his fists clenched as anger radiated off him in waves. He had always been more handsome when he was angry. Something about the harshness in his face had made her want to kiss the danger lying underneath his skin, inhaling it right off his Cupid's bow.

Now she just wanted to push him out of the window.

Isaac wasn't thrown off-balance that much, the few steps he had taken back from the rough push already gone as he crossed the distance with ease.