Page 78 of The Contract

Why yes. Yes, I am.

And that Fed Knox is already grating my last goddamned nerve.

Her voice dips lower, baiting me. “And what if I break the rules?”

I sip my single malt, savoring the burn, a smirk curling my lips. “Let’s just say little girls shouldn’t break rules.”

Yet every fucking inch of me thrums with the certainty that she will.

God, even from here, Riley smells like heaven and moves like hell.

Sin wrapped in the body of an angel—innocent, broken, and infinitely more trouble than I need.

Unconditionally off-limits.

Irresistibly forbidden.

And young.

So fucking young that my mind spins with a million different ways to “take care of it.”

The devil on my shoulder smirks.

You’re goddamned right, I’ll take care of it.

I rub my chin, studying the way her body carries the rhythm of the slow, sad ballad. My newest obsession wrapped neatly in bright-yellow Do Not Enter tape. But as long as I only look with my eyes, no harm done, right?

Whiskey scorches down my throat. I exhale slowly, tallying all the ways I’m damned. Because if she stays, it’s not a question of if Riley will be ruined.

It’s when.

The music fades, leaving silence heavy between us.

Her shiver is a mix of nerves and discomfort in an outfit that probably required lube to squeeze into.

“Well?” she finally asks, teeth sinking into that lush lower lip again as she crosses her arms.

Huh? “Well, what?”

She yanks off the blindfold, eyes blazing with irritation and bravado. “I got the job, right?” Her voice quivers just enough to reveal an intoxicating blend of hope and fear.

And she’s right to be afraid.

My body moves without permission, standing, retrieving the trench coat she discarded. Her eyes follow me cautiously, widening slightly as I approach. Blame it on the booze. Blame it on the lack of sleep. Blame it on my perpetual bad judgment.

I drape the coat gently around her shoulders, my fingers grazing her bare skin. Her breath hitches softly at the contact.

Fuck restraint.

My palm captures her jaw, fingers pressing until I’m one heartbeat shy of leaving marks. I angle her chin upward, forcing her startled gasp straight onto my tongue.

The taste of her slams into my system like straight whiskey poured down my fucking throat.

Then I steal the kiss I’ve been owed since the second she stepped into my world.

I kiss her as if I have a right to her soul—like claiming hers will fill the empty void where mine used to be.

Her lips part in helpless surrender, a silent plea crushed beneath the ruthless greed of my mouth.

---