Page 32 of Rubies and Revenge

Pat stands on the other side, face blank except for the stern set of their jaw. I sit still for a moment, panties cooling against my skin, somehow both arousing and nasty at the same time. I don’t know why, but annoyance simmers under my skin. This wasn’t nothing. It was something. I just don’t knowwhat.

All I know is the black hole inside me that craves withoutlogic gnashes its teeth, just as greedy as it’s always been. And it wants so much more. But I’m not sure if it should.

“Fine.” I twist out of the car to stand on shaky feet.

“Good night, princess,” Tamayo calls after me.

I roll my eyes and stride out of the garage, Pat on my heels and Darius’s watchful gaze following me like I might turn around any moment and crack Tamayo across the jaw. While that might feel good for a moment, it wouldn’t help the cum still wet in my panties. Or the echo of my orgasm thrumming in my veins.

Marcus who? My body can only think of Andrea Tamayo.

TAMAYO

I’m drinking a vodka Collins again. Orange prickles across my tastebuds, but despite its tang, despite the heavy pour, it’s not enough to burn away the memory of Zarina’s cum sitting heavy on my tongue. Even multiple mouthwashes haven’t erased the taste of her. All I can think about now is giving in to the overwhelming urge to capture her lips in mine the next time I see her.

Kissing is not a good idea.

Hell, the Gallo princess coming on my thigh like it was a goddamn throne made for her pleasure was not a good idea, either. Not when I can’t get the taste of her out of my mouth, the smell of her off my fingers. I let a sip of my drink sit on my tongue, trying to burn away the memory of her.

A knock sounds on the office door. I call for them to come in, and Darius steps inside. He arches a brow as if drinking before Sunday mass is somehow more condemnable than all the other sins we commit. I scowl at him and take another gulp out of spite.

“We need to increase security around the shelter. Rita will hate it, but she’ll get over it.” I don’t turn to face him as I speak. “Same with the Den. Tell Angie to suck my left big toe if she complains.”

“Both are already done.” He lowers himself into one of the comfy chairs in front of my desk as I mumble thanks.

“We need to discuss Casa Nostra later, too. And the properties in Gachico.”

He hums in affirmation, staring at me.

I frown at him. “What?”

“Are we just not gonna talk about it?” he asks.

“About what?” I turn back to the window, because I know perfectly well what he means.

Apparently, he’s out of patience anyway. “About you fucking the Gallo princess in the back of the car.”

“Jesus.” I fumble my glass and almost drop it.

The corner of his mouth twitches. “I don’t think he has anything to do with it.”

I set my drink on the desk, rolling my eyes and swiveling around to face him. He spills out of the chair, all limbs and muscles, and tamps down on the teasing smile threatening to form on his lips. I wipe vodka Collins off my hand on my very expensive trousers. “We didn’t fuck.”

He snorts. “Semantics.”

I rest my chin on my palm, fingers on my cheek, and breathe in. Nope—they still smell like her. Like she came on them moments ago and not on the other side of a layer of fabric a night ago. I grind my teeth. “It doesn’t matter, anyway.”

The amusement coloring Darius’s expression sloughs away. “And if it brings us to the edge of implosion?”

“Don’t worry.” I wave him off. “It didn’t mean anything.” And it won’t. Not with both of us using the other, whether it’s to forget the pain caused by our parents or protection or power. Feelings have no place between us. But fuck if I wish clothes had no place between us, too.

“Not yet,” Darius mutters.

I raise my glass with a shake of my head. “Ye of little faith.”

“Me of vast experience and observation.” He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and stares at me with that stupid, blank face he wears when he’s worried because he doesn’t want me to know that he’s worried but is unwittingly blaring loud and clear that he is, in fact,worried. I sip my drink and wait. Because there’s no making Darius say it, there’s only giving him space to.

His brows scrunch. “Andy.”

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