Page 13 of Dragonfly

I don’t deny it. I don’t tell him he’s right, either. I just stare at him, folding my arms under my tits like I did at the pawn shop.

And just like Antonio, Damien’s gaze flickers over my cleavage.

Fucking men.

He recovers quicker, though. I’ll give him that. He forces his eyes to meet mine, a tiny crooked smile playing on his thin lips. “You want to tell me why?” He pauses for a moment. “Did one of my rivals put you up to it?”

“I have my own reasons,” I retort, and if it comes out shorter than I meant it to, I can’t help it. I’ve imagined this confrontation with Damien a thousand times, and I’ve had the upper hand in all of them because he had no idea who I was or that I was stalking him.

But he does, and that throws me off.

He cocks his head. “So you have been watching me. Interesting.”

I shrug.

“I’m a very busy man, Savannah. I don’t have time to play these games, and even if I did, I’m too old to waste that time. So why don’t you just tell me what it is that you want from me and we can both go on our merry ways since I’m sure you’re not actually interested in screwing me after all. Hmm? What do you say?”

This fucking prick. He’s dismissing me.

Oh, no. He’s not getting rid of me that easily.

Looking him over, too angry to think straight, I don’t see any gun on him. That doesn’t mean I’m naive enough to believe that he isn’t armed. I’ve watched him enough to know that he always is. A gun’s not his first weapon of choice, though. Oh, no. Damien. He has?—

—his knife.

He’s right handed so the holster he wears is on his left side. Everything I’ve learned about this man says he doesn’t go anywhere without it.

And, suddenly, I know what I’m going to do.

“Give me my gun back,” I purr, taking a step closer to him.

He arches an eyebrow. “Maybe I was wrong before. Alright. I’ll bite. What will you give me if I do?”

A bullet to the skull.

I smile.

See, no one else is around. This area of Springfield closes early, while the nightlife will start picking up once the sun goes down. This… this might be the only chance I have.

And I’m going to take it.

“Whatever you want,” I murmur huskily.

“Is that so?”

I move into him. So close, my breasts bump his chest. He doesn’t step back. Almost as if on instinct, his hand snakes around my waist, landing on the small of my back.

His lips part.

My hand lands on his hip, stealing whatever it is he was about to say next. Slowly, as he dips his head, I trail my finger up his side. I make sure I reach beneath his suit jacket as I do, touching his dress shirt instead as his mouth brushes against my neck.

“I thought you’d make me work a little harder than this, Savannah,” he murmurs—and that does it. The absolute smugness mixed with his almost disappointment that I would trade sex for my gun flips the switch inside of me, letting me know that I have the right idea about what I’m going to do next.

I wasn’t trying to convince him to give me a gun I no longer needed. I just wanted Damien to let me close enough that I could do this.

I find the hilt of his knife. Before he can stop me, I yank it out of his holster while stepping back, putting enough space between us that I can swing my arm and stab him in the first spot I can reach.

It’s not as easy as I’d hoped it would be. Either I didn’t put enough force into it, or the material of his thick suit jacket blunted the knife’s edge, because it doesn’t go in smoothly. I have to force it, and by the time I’ve gotten it most of the way in, it dawns on me what I just did.

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