Page 63 of Tempted By Poison

My heart picks up. “We torture him.”

“He’ll be gone from this world, burned to ashes.” His eyes flash with a dark glint.

I nod in agreement, the sinister shrill slithering up my spine like the tattoo on my back.

He brings our hands up between us and presses his mouth to his fist. As if I already knew, I place my lips to my fist too and kiss it.

We gaze at each other as we seal our joined hands with a kiss. We’re bonded through this, locked together like heavy chains intertwined. A connection that only he and I understand.

We break apart, but we don't let go of each other. Then, in a swift motion, I lean forward, pressing my lips against his soft, warm ones. The darkness that sometimes clouds my vision flows away and some sun shines through.

I sigh, titling my head, and a low groan rumbles from his throat. Heat covers my face, going to my shoulders, and I take the moment to slip my tongue past his lips, and he meets me there, sliding his hot tongue over mine, caressing it with soft licks and twists. The hair from his beard tickles my lips and chin, sending more sparks throughout my body, and a pool of moisture forms between my legs.

Save the kids first.

I pull away, my breath catching and lips stinging from the short, but intoxicating, kiss.

I glance at Ronan’s wet lips and his eyes are hazy again, like he's ready to pounce on me now. “I told you before. You’re very tempting.”

I lick over my lips then tug my bottom lip with my teeth, containing myself because he doesn't even understand that he’s just as tempting.

“I hope this motivates you to stay alive in there.”

He removes his hand, fixing his pants, his thick cock visibly pressed against it. “Oh, it does, little snake, because when we get back home. I'm licking that sweet pussy until you're coming all over my tongue.” With that, his lips curl into a sexy smirk, and he gets out of the truck.

My thighs clasp together, like he’s already stuffed his head between them. Fuck me. What am I going to do about that man?

I shake away the images and flutters erupting all over my body and hop out of the car, slamming the door behind me. Strolling around the truck, I walk toward Ronan and the others who I met the first day I arrived at GenCre. They’re all huddled in a circle. With this being my first time working with these men, I’m worried things will go to shit, but I have to trust that Ronan’s men are top-notch and know what to do. Pedro, Chris, Vance, Abe, and Boone all turn in my direction, and I send a nod, not smiling. Though I avoid eye contact with Boone. After the incident at the library, I don’t know what is going on with him and my Serpent Sister, but it makes me uneasy, and it's fake to pretend like nothingiswrong. I can’t approach him with my dagger at his throat, but for now...I will be cordial for the mission.

Ronan's phone rings. He taps it, bringing it to his ear. “Where are you?” After a second, he turns to the woods, and I follow his gaze, but I see nothing.

He ends the call with a stoic expression, his entire energy shifting into that man who’s a deadly force to be reckoned with.

Facing us again, he speaks, “Here are the earpieces. We have extra just in case. You’ll hear Bedford with these.” He reminds us almost every time.

“Perfecto, now I can talk shit to Bedford about Chris,” Mal rasps out with a chuckle, taking the earpiece from Ronan.

Chris flips her off, his shoulder-length dreads shifting left to right as he shakes his head.

I roll my eyes with a grin. “He’s right there, Wicked.”

“Doesn’t mean I won’t talk shit still.” Mal cracks a side smirk as if Chris can’t hear what's she saying.

I laugh again. “That’s the Wicked Witch for you.” I study her movements as she holds the heavy weapon, she doesn't seem off, like the wound she suffered in London doesn't affect her. Unless sheisin pain and handling it really well. I’ll be sure to ask her once this is over.

Ronan hands Boone his earpiece. He’s quiet as usual, but my paranoia with him makes me wonder if he knows about Scarlette being in town.

“Talk shit all you want, just focus on the task and get the job done. I don't need any fuck-ups tonight,” Ronan says, his voice firm.

“Aye, aye, Headman.” Mal salutes teasingly.

Placing my earpiece in my ear, I peer around, bypassing the other men who're rounding up for the mission. That's when I noticed a broad, dark figure. I purse my lips, nodding in the direction, my guard rising and setting in. “Is that him?”

They all turn, facing the direction I’m looking at.

“Yes,” Ronan says stiffly.

He finally approaches the group standing beside the gap between Mal and Ronan. I examine his stature; he's wearing a combat vest with dark brown pants to match. It’s probably from what he wears for Victor to protect him, of some sort. A gun in attached to his side along with a blade. That day in the office, I didn’t care much about his features. I only saw one thing, and that was a gun being pointed at Ronan. I didn’t care about anything else but blowing a hole in his head.

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