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I unzipped the duffel and opened it. I tilted it toward her so she could see inside. “We’re going to start selling again.”

Her jaw clenched. I knew she wouldn’t be happy about this, but she was even worse at hiding it than I expected. She leaned forward, hands on her knees, back rigid.

“Is that really a good idea?”

“Word needs to spread that you’re back in business. Leaving you in here and putting a few rumors out there’s fine, but it’s not enough. I need to be seen pushing product again and flaunting it in Clifton’s face, which means you need to start seeing customers.”

“So I’m your little drug whore then.”

I smirked and put the bag down. I couldn’t help myself. I liked the idea of her as my drug whore, although she meant it in a very different way than I pictured it.

“You’re my partner.” I walked toward her, head tilted to one side, hands rubbing together. “Remember you’re getting paid for every sale we make. You take a cut. That cash goes into your pocket.”

“And I’m the one hung out to dry when the Jackals come calling.”

I spread my hands then. “You were always bait, darling.”

“Still pisses me off.”

“When are you going to accept your role?”

“Probably never.” She looked away. “Remember that I never asked for any of this.”

“True enough.” I walked toward her then leaned forward placing one hand on the back of the couch. I loomed over her, getting close enough to smell the faint whiff of her shampoo. Lilacs and anise seed. “But here you are anyway. Very much a part of it.”

“So what? Playtime’s over? We get back to work?” She stared into my eyes and the way she said ‘playtime’ made my blood boil.

“Something like that.”

“And I can’t refuse, of course.”

“No, you can’t. You don’t get to sit here on your ass watching TV forever.”

Anger flashes across her face. Good, I wanted her to get mad. I wanted her pissed off and raging. Maybe she’d show a little life.

“That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Yeah? What are you doing then, little diamond?” I leaned closer, temptation swimming in my veins. I wanted to kiss her plump bottom lip and taste her tongue. I wanted to make her whisper my name.

“I’ve been helping Sander.”

“That’s not your real job.”

“I know that. But what else am I supposed to do?”

“Now you’re supposed to sell my drugs and make me some fucking money.”

There it was again. Another flash of anger. Deeper, hotter.

“Go to hell. Don’t talk to me that way.”

I reached out then. I grabbed her hair, make her gasp in surprise. I tightened my grip and pulled her close as I dropped down to my knees in front of her, forcing her legs open, pressing myself between them. I leaned my weight onto her body and stared into her eyes as I gripped her hair hard pulling at her thick, lovely strands.

“You forget your place sometimes. Maybe I’ve been too soft.”

Anger again. But tinged with fear.

“Let me go.”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“Owain.”

I leaned within inches of her mouth. Her lips hung open, her tongue ran over her white teeth. I felt her breath hot and quick on my mouth.

“Say my name again.”

Her mouth shut. Her jaw clenched.

“Go to hell.”

“Say it, Leigh. I want to hear you say it, then maybe I’ll let you go.”

“Owain.” It came out a snarl.

“Mm, I like that. I like when you whisper it. When you moan it.”

“I’m not moaning anything.”

“Not yet.” I leaned closer to whisper in her ear. “But you will.”

I kissed her neck. She took a sharp breath and I felt her hands grip my shoulders. I couldn’t tell if she wanted to push me away or pull me tighter. I had a feeling she didn’t know herself. I kissed her throat, moving closer along her chin, up along her cheek. Her lips parted again, trembled for me, red and gorgeous.

I couldn’t help myself. I wanted a feast, and there she was, just waiting to be tasted. So I kissed her, lips tight against hers, and she gave in to me. I felt her melt into it, I felt the tension leave her body in one great flood of emotion as her tongue slipped into my mouth and that moan—god, damn, that moan, the moan I’ve been waiting for so long—escaped her throat.

I bit her lower lip as her hands moved to wrap around my neck. I pulled her closer, tighter. Her body rolled against mine. It trembled, taut and tense like a bowstring. She quivered, vibrated. I felt my blood racing through my chest and every hammer of my heart sent another pulse of need up through my lips.

All those nights in front of the TV came back to me, all those nights staring at her body and pretending like I cared about some football game, some movie, some sitcom. All that desire shuffled inside of me and broke free in that instant, and my well-honed and sharpened patience shattered like a glass.


Tags: B.B. Hamel Volkov Crime Family Romance