Page 37 of Arrogant Bastard

“Yeah, what do you think, sweetheart?” Paul’s smirk widens as he raises his eyebrows at me.

I place my chin on Killian’s shoulder and give a saucy smile. “I think they talk a big game, so I’m up for seeing what they’ve got,” I reply.

“Great. It’s a date. And this time you will join in. With everything.”

I’m wrapped in chilled fury by the time their convoy of SUVs leaves the villa in a trail of dust. I can barely see my way through ensuring the escorts are fine and relatively unharmed. I leave Killian to supervise their departure, and I can’t get into the shower fast enough. He joins me ten minutes later, and we wash away the vile stench of sleaze with sex and soap.

Then we head to the communications room to trawl through the footage. The memory of what was done to Julia sears me each time I look at Paul Galveston and his partners and the sick acts they’re performing on-screen. Each time Moses’s finger tightens around one man’s collar and he laughs with sick glee, I want to throw up again. Then I want to hunt him down, rip his face off, and stomp on it.

“Baby, I can do this on my own,” Killian says after an hour of watching the footage.

I shake my head. “No. We do this together.”

He examines my face for a moment, then nods, and I pray I won’t have to watch for much longer. My prayers are answered when Moses grabs one young man by the collar and cups his jaw. He turns his face one way and then the other, carefully examining his features. “How old are you? Really?”

The escort, primed to answer one way only, replies, “I can be whatever age you want me to be.”

A very drunk Moses shoves him away. Raj looks over. “What’s up, man? Something wrong with the merchandise?” he laughs.

Moses rests back on the lounger. “Something’s off. He feels a little…overused.”

My breath catches, but Killian doesn’t look as anxious as I feel. Paul slaps his girl’s ass and orders her to ride him faster. Then he looks over at Moses. “Rest easy, pal. When the shipment arrives in twenty days’ time, you can take your pick of fresh meat.”

Moses groans with filthy anticipation. Raj responds with a slurred shout.

Killian looks over at me and smiles.

We have a date to pass on to the team.

Chapter Eleven

Black Widow

Present Day

I don’t know why I try to go to sleep after leaving Killian in the study. I can’t deny that I want to block out thinking about Paul Galveston or any of the other slimeballs we met during our stint in Cairo. But there’s no way I can relax with my mind churning with the news that the man behind one of the biggest sex trafficking rings in the world is still alive and breathing free air.

But more than that, the memory of how everything went so very wrong is the one thing I don’t want to think about. Before Cairo, I thought the extra baggage of guilt Killian and I carried might just be bearable and, hell, even lessen once the past lost a little of its sharp sting. But it turned out karma was just getting warmed up. And, in hindsight, a part of me knows I deserve everything that went down in Cairo.

I jump out of bed and pace from one end of the room to the other, wishing I’d taken up Anwat’s offer of another round of Muy Thai when I had the chance. The buildup of restless energy is eating into my emotions and threatening to drive me out of my mind.

I want to punch something. Bad. Or have something punched into me. Like Killian’s cock. The memory of how the sex was between us shivers through me, and I bite my lip to suppress a moan. I need some of that. God, do I need it.

“Can’t sleep?”

I jerk around at his voice. Then twist back around in case he can read my impure thoughts in my face. “No,” I snap.

He doesn’t speak but I know he’s still there. When I risk a glance over my shoulder, he’s looking at the rumpled bed I vacated ten minutes ago. Electricity crackles hotter as his gaze returns to mine. “Wanna get out of here for a little bit?”

My eyes widen. “What? Really?”

“Don’t get excited. We’re just heading to the rooftop.”

Although I deflate a little, the thought of getting out of the apartment, stunning though it is, is very welcome. Because the only other means I can think of to alleviate my anxiety is with sex. The sheet-clawing, hair-pulling, sweat-drenching kind. And I’ve already indulged in way more than I need to in the twelve hours since Killian exploded back into my life.

“Okay.”

He nods and leaves my room and returns a minute later with my running shoes and leather cap. He’s wearing a cap too but his feet are bare. The memory of how much he loves walking around with no shoes knots a ball of raw emotion inside me. I gird myself against it as he waits for me to put my things on. We head to the front door, and I wait while he goes through the rigmarole of the entry code, handprint, and retina scan he told me about last night. When I roll my eyes, he smirks at me. “Yeah, it’s a fucking pain, but you’re worth it.”

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