Page 3 of Death By Chocolate

“Stopped on my end,” I conclude. “Yours?” I hear the click-clack of heels, solid rather than high, striking the floor before I see her. I know this is some crazy shit to think, but a current seems to lift sleek black hair to reveal the face of a goddess. Her curves are hand-poured into a red suit, a striking contrast against the black and white Harlequin tiles, a single button over a lace black camisole. With her mesmerizing sway, her chin lifted, and plump lips painted scarlet red—she’s hypnotic, a sonnet in motion. In one gloved hand, she holds a steel-linked chain, slack but coiled around her palm. She gives it a yank. At first, there’s resistance, then a pained mewling sound fills the room. Trailing her boot heel, a convulsive clump of what used to be a man reduced to a crawling pile of ground turkey. Fuck, there’s a gaping, bloody hole where his lips should be. Is this The Governor’s mysterious female bodyguard? I had heard rumors of her skill. I even had a few inquiries for my services about her. I sit forward in my chair.

Corso gives a twisted grin. Glancing over his shoulder at the woman whose presence commands my intention. “Our informaticist has been brought to heel,” he chuckles.

Damn. This femme fatale has hand-to-hand skills like this and the trust of a DeLuca?

Impressed, I rest both elbows on my desk, my fingers interlaced. My business with Corso and his right hand, Silvio Santino, is done. I have a new interest, and I am curious to knowall the players, starting with the lethal lady in the room. “Who’s the Murder Me Black Barbie?”

I direct my question to the owner of The Governor, but the woman looks at me, green eyes bore into mine, emerald daggers flying in…offense? No one responds as she moves on long legs toward the conference room’s jumbo monitor. Seeing her bring those dangerous curves closer to me, saliva floods my mouth. I grip my lower lips with my teeth in anticipation. Her brown skin is flawless against the city’s night glow through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“What did you call me, Mr. Voss?”

So, she knows who I am? Interesting. I wonder what other information she’s privy to. Corso interrupts, which works because I hate parroting shit.

“Dani, stand down. I’ll handle this.” Corso turns hard eyes on me. “X,” he says, using my first initial rather than my name. “You’re about to fuck up.”

Now, he has me intrigued because I need to understand his connection to Dani, the only woman in a room with the underworld’s most notorious killers. I lean back, my posture casual. “How so? She taken?”

“Oh shit,” Roman, a retired hitman infamous for his blue Scarponi blades, hisses before the room erupts. A verbal explosion of, “What the fuck?” “This fucking meeting is over.” and “This asshole has a death wish.”

Damn. Why does everybody startle like I tossed gasoline on a match? And Dani looks downright hostile at my compliments.

“Corso. Silvio. I’ll tap-tap this big fucker,” Dani rasps.

What the hell does that mean? And, if she wants to tap me, I’m amenable to tap-tapping those lush lips, that juicy slit, and that ass.

“Nobody takes Dani,” Silvio growls, his face steeped in red.

Corso nods his head in agreement. “Don’t talk shit about my bodyguard unless you’re ready to back it up with action.”

Shit just got uncomfortable. Silvio is married to none other than the songbird Paisley Phire. And Corso, is fucking a former federal agent, Jessie. Why are these fuckers hostile over the bodyguard? “If Barbie is guarding bodies. Done. I want her.”

Dani tracks the ink covering my arms, then locks her hands together, holding them in front of her toned thighs. “You don’t, I promise,” she says with a cool smirk.

It’s more than a threat. There’s a warning in her emerald eyes. “Promises,” I shrug. “They’re entertaining to break.”

She rolls her eyes as if I’m joking. In my world, most females want the attention of any powerful man. Not this woman. I don’t criticize anybody’s survival in this life, but I prefer a lady who could handle business from the back alley to the bedroom. She vibes with blood and tats and maintains her cool in boardroom politics—an added bonus.

“Damn it, X,” Silvio jumps to his feet. “Shut the hell up.”

“Nah, that’s not happening.” I look straight at her, “Yo Dani, you answer my question.”

Dani didn’t crack a smile. She squares her front shoulder and lines up on my image like a trained sniper. A second later, she makes a mock gun with her fingers and aims it at my center mass. “Keep talking, I’mma take you there, Mr. Voss.”

I chuckle, amused at the imminent danger in her voice and stance. This woman just threatened me with bodily harm. I like it like that—rough and playful. My dick jumped to attention like an automatic target at the gun range. She’s fine and flirting? I definitely want to bury my cock in her gushy center.

Standing, I spread my arms wide, giving her a full view of my six foot three inches, two-hundred and twenty-pound heft. Women have an innate sense of approaching danger. They tend not to toy with a man my size. “You think you can handle this?”

Dani tilts her head. The move is slight, but it’s a challenge. “I don’t stutter, Mr. Voss.”

Challenge accepted. I grab my jacket from the back of my chair. “Say less. Meet me at the airport in the morning. Don’t be late.”

“Fuck you,” she ground out.

“We’ll get to that when I arrive.” I cut the connection before anyone else can cock block. I have to admit, I’m feelin’ Murder Me Barbie’s vibe. She’s a straight shooter with good aim. She speaks her mind. I looked forward to using that mouth to soak my cock.

2

DANI

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