Page 26 of Wicked Savage

“Not too far. I’m in Massachusetts.”

I scoff. “That’s far. How do you plan on seeing one another?”

“Why does it sound like you don’t want to see me again?” His thumb sweeps over my lips.

“I didn’t say that. I just don’t do long-distance. It never works.”

“It will the way I do it.” He hits me with a crooked grin, and my body grows languid.

This man is dangerous.

“And how is that?”

“I have a jet.” His knuckles roll across my chin. “I can come to you, or I can take you anywhere you wanna go. A penthouse in New York City. A villa in France. Literally anywhere. Would you like that?” His tone grows all husky.

I nod, my pulse hiking up the more he talks, the more he touches me.

“Good.” His eyes dance over my features, like he’s committing them to memory. “I told you we’d work it out. I’m gonna pick you up next weekend and take you to dinner.”

Oh yeah, that’s not happening. Then again, I can have him pick me up at a random place. I’ll just say I don’t want him to know where I live for safety reasons.

Shit, what the hell am I going to do when my bodyguard follows us? Maybe I can say my family comes from money and they take my safety seriously. He sounds rich. He’d understand.

That makes me wonder who he really is. Maybe I can ask Konstantin. Or maybe not. I don’t want him knowing my business, though I’m sure he’ll find out about Cillian eventually. But he doesn’t have to know right away.

“Okay, we’ll figure it out. But I really need to go now.” I start to get up, and this time he lets me, sitting up himself to grab his pants.

He gets dressed while I do the same, his gaze never leaving me, as if he can’t get enough.

When I slide into my dress and place the mask over my face, he finishes the last few buttons on his shirt, then moves toward me. His arm wraps around me, pulling me tightly against him, his lips grazing mine before he deepens the kiss, claiming me completely. It’s slow, intimate. Like we’re rediscovering each other all over again, each kiss a silent promise.

His tongue sweeps over mine, a growl—animalistic and raw—vibrating in his chest until I feel it rattling in my bones. And when we come up for air, a wild, untamed gleam burns in his eyes, as if he’s struggling to rein in the fire raging inside him.

“I may not be able to wait a week to see you.”

“You’ll have to manage.” I press my lips together, holding back a smile at the longing in his voice.

“No, I won’t. I’ll see you in two days. Just tell me where to get you.”

“You’re gonna come to Jersey?”

No, no, no! This is too soon!

“Yeah. Is that a problem?” A furrow builds between his brows.

Yes! A huge problem!

“No. Not at all.”

Now I really need a plan. Maybe poison my bodyguard? Give him severe diarrhea? Beg him not to tell Konstantin who I’m meeting?

Fuck! What do I do?

Okay, worst-case scenario, Konstantin finds out, doesn’t approve, and makes me end it. I’ll survive. Right?

Ugh.

“Let me write down your number, then I'll give you mine.” He pulls away from me and moves toward the small bar across the room, picking up a napkin and retrieving his pen.

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