Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
No, I just want to taste.
I can focus on the business at hand after.
“Tell me, River.” Her velvety smooth demeanor is beautiful in the way that she owns the room. And what makes her so cunning is that she knows she has this power. She owns it.
“So you do know my name?” I smile at her. She flutters her lashes at me in confusion and then realizes she just slipped up. But it doesn’t rattle her in the slightest. Our little warfare game is happening, and I can’t help but be almost charmed by her audacity.
“My men service me in the ways I need. Tell me why I would let you touch me. Who even are you?” She eyes me up and down, her gaze dragging over every inch of me, pausing at my hard cock pressing against my black trousers.
She licks her lips, and it does something to me. We can deny it all we want, but we find one another attractive. Anya might be used to being in control, but it doesn’t take away her womanly curiosity.
And if I want a woman, I will make her mine.
And she wants to compare me to her two lackeys. She wouldn’t need a second man in the room if I had my way with her. She’d be so perfectly filled.
“I can be your worst fucking nightmare or your greatest victory.” I smile at her. Either way, she’ll be mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.
“Thirty million for a taste?” Anya licks her red-stained lips, intentionally drawing me into the fantasy of what that mouth and wicked tongue could do.
“For what’s between your legs. A taste of that.” I nod to her dress, and she smirks.
“Hmm.” She ponders my offer thoughtfully while tapping the barrel of the gun on her lip. A benevolent smile blooms, which is sinister in itself. “Deal. Transfer it now, and I’ll give you a taste.”
I pull out my phone and hand it to her. She enters her details, and I click send. Once she checks her phone and sees the money is in what’s one of her many illegal accounts, her smile grows wider. “A deal is a deal, and while I hate most people, you strike an interesting bargain,” she says as her hand moves down her dress till she reaches the hem and lifts it. I watch as it reveals her thighs and then she slips a finger between her legs. I see her pussy, and she slides her fingers through her folds, her eyes on me before she pulls them away. She takes the final step between us that brings us toe-to-toe, and lifts her hand up. Elegantly, she puts her finger that was between her legs to my mouth and slides it between my lips.
Heaven.
I suck her finger, my tongue curling around every edge, my eyes fixed on her. Anya licks her lips, and I don’t even think she realizes she’s doing so as she watches my mouth. All of a sudden, she pulls her finger free and takes four steps back to casually lean against a table and smile at me.
“Pleasure doing business with you. Now, please get back to the auction or you will be escorted out.”
I realize what she just did.
Seduction is a dangerous game, and I’d willingly offered to pay her thirty million dollars for a taste of her.
It was worth every penny.
I go to speak, but she raises her eyebrow. There’s irony in the power this woman thinks she holds over me, considering the circumstances and money her brother owes me.
Despite it, I offer a cocked smile instead, because I’ve not yet finished my dealings with Anya Ivanov.
No, this has only just stirred something entirely unholy inside me instead.
“See you later, Red. I’ll be having more than just a taste next time,” I say.
She beams a smile at me. “If you think bankruptcy looks good on you, then be my guest to try.”
CHAPTER 8
River
Icontinue licking my lips, memorizing the taste of Anya. I stare at the glass of scotch, bittersweet from not yet having a sip so I don’t wash the remains of her away so quickly.
Dawson Taylor sits across from me in a bar owned by Crue Monti, head of the Italian Mafia. Dawson’s business is the sex industry, with both legal and not-so-legal endeavors. I’ve known both men for years now because any person who decides to dance in this dark part of the city always needs guns.
“Crue couldn’t make it, huh?” I ask, finally resigning myself to take a sip.
Dawson watches the women at work, mostly because they work for him. He’s always kept a keen eye on his staff and their safety. Something not many care about, considering his industry.
“Nope, all married and loved up, I’m afraid. They’re expecting their firstborn soon, so he’s been glued to her,” Dawson says matter-of-factly.