Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 248926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1245(@200wpm)___ 996(@250wpm)___ 830(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 248926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1245(@200wpm)___ 996(@250wpm)___ 830(@300wpm)
"Misha thinks Maxwell is a doll." Valentina arrived with several of her people. They sat near Emily and my seat.
In unison, the French turned to her.
Giggling, she waved at them as if she were on a dating show. "I forgot the French would be here."
I doubted that.
Usually, when Valentina and I battled against our enemies, she came to our meeting with black jeans, boots, and a black shirt. Her hair would be pulled up in a ponytail. Not an earring or other form of jewelry would be on her.
This morning, Valentina wore full make up. Her blonde hair was elegantly styled and artfully highlighted. I happened to know that she hated the color blue, yet a bright sapphire blue dressed hugged her frame. A diamond necklace dangled from her neck. Diamond hoops decorated her ears. Her bright red nails were freshly painted.
She winked at them. "How are you enjoying Italy?"
Before they could answer, my mouse entered, and I no longer knew if the French spoke to my sister or not.
It was only her.
She captured every part of my attention.
My cock jumped in my pants.
Surely, the rest of the room shifted their focus to her too.
Long black shiny strands outlined Emily's face. A bang stopped right above her finely arched brows.
Is this a wig? Whatever it is, I'm pulling it off when I fuck her.
Her blood red lips matched the red suit formed around her curvy body. While the suit boasted a classic cut, she wore a sheer black bodysuit instead of a shirt, showing off her full cleavage.
The effect exuded a cool, sexy edge. It was the perfect balance of sensually feminine and dangerously strong.
I swallowed hard.
Like a murderous lioness on the hunt, she prowled forward, boldly swaying those hips.
Is that right, mysh? You want to get fucked on the conference table?
I slipped my gaze down her lovely body and stopped at those heels. The shoes made her legs look longer. The heels had to be over six inches and so red, they could have been dipped in blood.
I licked my lips.
There was no more need for caffeine. My entire body came alive.
When she got to my side, I captured her waist, pulled her close to me, and brushed my lips against her ear. "I am canceling this meeting."
She whispered back, "You are not—"
"You knew what you were doing when you wore this—"
"Kazimir, this was to show—"
"That you wanted to bounce on my cock."
She leaned away and raised her eyebrows. "Focus."
The line of my jaw twitched.
She kept her voice low. "Are you going to focus?"
"Is this a wig?"
"It is."
A wicked grin spread across my face.
"You will not touch her." Emily tried to leave my hold.
I wouldn't loosen my grip on her. "What's her name?"
"Lavinia. Now let me go so we can sit down and start."
"You will be sitting on my lap."
"I will not."
"Mysh, I promise you that your ass will be directly on my cock for the duration of this meeting."
"Eh, man!" Maxwell clapped his hands. "Shit is real right now. Are we going to fight or have an orgy?"
Somehow, Emily slipped away. "We are beginning."
I watched her walk away.
She cleared her throat and sat right across from Jean-Pierre.
It was in that moment when I realized Boris and Blue had been near her the whole time.
Did Boris walk in with her?
I didn't like the idea of him being so close to her when she was looking so goddamn irresistible.
I headed over.
Blue got on Emily's right, facing Giorgio. Boris sat down near Valentina.
I lowered into my seat.
Louis was positioned in front of me.
Jean-Pierre studied Emily. "How are you this morning?"
My mouse gritted her teeth. "I'm fine."
"Even with the big news of last night?"
I wanted to jump in, but Emily had worn the outfit and prowled into the space. For me to defend her so early, would be to suggest that she was weak.
Still, I imagined torturing the Butcher in my head.
Under the table, Emily placed her hand on my lap. It shivered against my thigh.
Oh, mysh.
I held her hand and squeezed.
Emily stared back Jean-Pierre. "Have you put spies among my people?"
Rage rose within me. "Excuse me?"
Jean-Pierre's expression never cracked or faltered. "Define spies."
Emily leaned forward. "Define an ass whipping."
"I would say that it involves something hitting an ass."
She let go of my hand. "And I would say that flipping any of my people to your side is a fast way to die."
I glared. "Point the people out."
"They are not spies." Jean-Pierre frowned. "I wanted your men to understand that if you are not yourself, they are to contact me."
I rose, planted my palms on the table, and leaned forward. "Point them out."
Chapter 16
The Dick Measuring Contest
Emily
Kazimir towered over everyone. His gaze flashed dangerously at the French. The muscles in his arms flexed and bulged against his black shirt.
J.P.'s face was a mask of blank politeness. He tilted his head slightly to the side.