Page 36 of Precious Hazard

“It was medicine, not cocaine!” She grabs the book from me and pulls it to her chest. “I did what I thought was right, helping a friend. And you, you’re being an enormous hypocrite right now, considering you run the most extensive drug trafficking operation in this part of the country!”

“What if you had gotten caught?”

“Thanks to those meds, for the first time in months, Mr. Daniels was pain-free and died peacefully in his sleep. He was surrounded by his family, who didn’t have to helplessly watch him suffer in agony. To me, that was worth it. Besides, I was still a minor, with no prior offenses. I would have gotten off with maybe a fine. The benefits outweighed the risk.”

“You were a minor. Great.” I squeeze my temples with the heels of my hands. That organ transplant allegory Popov used makes so much more sense now.

“Oh, save me from your patronizing attitude, DeVille. I won’t be judged by someone who couldn’t recognize a good deed if it bit him in the ass.” She positions her book between us, blocking my line of sight.

We spend the remainder of the ride in absolute silence. Aside from the vehicle noise and the world outside still spinning as it naturally does, the tranquility is only broken by the occasional sound of a turning page. Tara keeps herself slightly angled, hiding behind her book. But with my height advantage, I have no problem seeing her eyes as they quickly flit across the lines of text as she reads her stupid romance novel. Until she gets down to the bottom of the page, that is. Then, she lowers thebook and gives me a full view of those bewitching lips. And the tip of that velvety tongue as she licks her finger. Every. Fucking. Time.

And my damn cock just gets harder and harder.

Fuck.

I need to get laid. And soon. It’s been… months?… and my dick doesn’t understand that we don’t like this infuriating woman. Just as I’m reaching for my phone to text one of my casual lays, she does it again.

Her lips take on a slightly pouty appearance just before she brings her thumb to the bottom one. She keeps it there for a heartbeat, hovering over the tiny divot at the center. And then… that tongue. Rosy. Glistening. Fucking tempting.

Phone and intended text forgotten, my attention stays glued to that mouth until we reach the Williamsburg venue where the fundraiser is taking place. The entire time, I feel like one of Pavlov’s dogs, waiting for the next turn of the page. Salivating at the metaphorical bell she’s wielding. Growing more frustrated with every iteration.

Getting more and more turned on with every lick.

Chapter 8

17:11 Satan:I’m fifteen minutes out.

A shudder runs down my spine as I stare at the phone screen.

Yesterday, as Satan was bringing me home after yet another “dinner date,” my future husband informed me that, the next time he comes over, he’ll be officially asking my brother for my hand in marriage. Which means, that’s happening today.

“Oh my God, I think the black-dotted one is pregnant,” Sienna yelps. Her nose is pressed to the side of the tank, and her eyes follow the fish in question as it jets among the various plants and structures that make up the aquascape. I have no idea how she managed to convince Drago to let her move the fish tank into their bedroom.

“See? Her belly looks swollen. We’re going to have little fish babies!”

“I’m pretty sure the eggs happen first,” I mumble. “And the big fish will probably eat the young.”

“Oh, no! We need to separate the mommy from—”

“Your brother and I are getting married,” I blurt out.

“—the other fish so they—” Sienna turns around, her eyes wide as saucers. “You what?”

“He’s on his way here now. We’ll be letting Drago know today.”

“But… but I thought the two of you were just, you know, seeing each other.” Her eyes search mine like she’s expecting me to yellSike!orJust kidding, girl!“Wow, Tara. Are you sure? It’s only been a matter of weeks. A month. A bit more, maybe? Um… don’t take this the wrong way… I love the idea of you two being together, but… marriage? So soon?”

I bite the inside of my cheek hard enough to make myself wince. Keeping this farce up for weeks, not being able to say a word to anyone, is excruciating. There’s no one to talk to. No one to ask for advice. No one to even just complain to about how frustrating my life has become. I want to spit it all out, but I know I can’t tell Sienna a thing. I mustn’t.

“Maybe you should think about that for a while, Tara. Date for at least a few more months and—”

“There’s no time,” I blurt out. “We need to be married by the end of next month. That’s Ajello’s orders.”

“Excuse me?”

Shit.I drop onto the edge of the bed and bury my face in my hands. “Yeah. Apparently, your don wants the ties between the New York Cosa Nostra and Drago’s group to be even stronger. And he figures your brother and me getting hitched is the perfect way to do that.”

“You… you’re not in love with Arturo?” Sienna looks at me with sad puppy dog eyes, as if the whole world has just crashed down around her. “But… but… the flowers? All your dates? The cute mating dance you’re doing with the jackets? You’ve been seeing each other practically every single day.”

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