Page 70 of Precious Hazard

I lower my head and bite her lip. “You were saying?”

No words leave her. She’s shaking so much that I move my hand to the back of her head, worried she’ll bang it on the damn mirror.

Slowly, I slide my other hand out and bring it to my lips.

“If you behave as you should”—I lick her nectar off my finger—“next time, I’ll eat your pussy until you pass out.”

The look she levels me with is filled with disdain. Grasping the shreds of her ruined dress, she clutches them at her breasts as she slips off the counter.

“Thank you for the offer,” she says amid labored breaths. “But there won’t be a next time.”

“Why not?”

She squeezes between me and the vanity to gather her shoes off the floor. When she straightens, there isn’t even an inkling of the blissed out contentment on her face that I’d expect after what just transpired. Only unwavering determination.

“Because, DeVille, I learned to never repeat my mistakes.”

Turning on her heel, she walks out of the bathroom, leaving me surrounded by the most exhilarating aroma on earth. The scent of strawberries and my wife’s orgasm.

My mouth waters.

Fucking hell! As the door shuts in her wake, I barely have enough strength to stifle the urge to storm after her. To catch her and fuck her, properly this time. But I let her run.

Because this is madness.

All of this is goddamned madness!

Swiping my hand across the counter, I send the bottle of whiskey flying. It hits the door with a loudcrackand shatters into a gazillion pieces.

Just as my mind did a moment ago.

Damn that woman.

Chapter 15

“My sincerest apologies, Mrs. DeVille, but I do not know where your car is.”

I squint at the blond guy in a blue-gray suit. “You’re Tony, right?”

“That’s correct.”

“Well, Tony…” I take a menacing step toward him. “My friend Jovan dropped my car off here last night. He said that he left it with a guy named… Can you guess?” I take another step. “Yup.Tony. Are there several Tonys around here?”

“Umm…” He throws a fleeting look toward the ground-level window. “I think you should ask Mr. DeVille.”

Figures. I grit my teeth and turn on my heel to march back inside the house. What the hell did that asshole husband of mine do with my car?

It’s been three days since that disastrous scene in DeVille’s bathroom. And every damn day since then I’ve been trying to wipe it from my mind, to forget how easily and thoroughly he undid me, leaving me panting on his counter. Every moan, every hitched breath, they all blare through my mind like an air siren. My thoughts are riddled with how wantonly I behaved. All because of Arturo DeVille. Because it washewho made me that way. But I can’t. Can’t think aboutit anymore. I refuse to acknowledge those earth-shattering minutes of my life. They never happened.

Too bad that my treacherous body can’t seem to forget them. As soon as DeVille enters my field of vision, everything within me instantly vibrates. Every cell, every nerve ending, rings with the echo of his touch. My lower lip, which he so tantalizingly bit that night, immediately starts to tingle, as if it’s ready and waiting for yet another kiss.

The situation between my legs is even more drastic. My pussy weeps, craving his wicked caress. The muscles in my core clench each time a memory of his hands on me surfaces. The throbbing achiness is almost too much to bear. The need he stirred up is so overpowering, I can hardly sleep at night.

I hate myself for my body’s reaction. I’m pissed that I can’t erase Arturo from my thoughts. But more than anything, I detest my stupid heart for its betrayal. For every time that man steps into the room, each time my eyes find him anywhere, my treacherous heart takes flight. As if it’s happy to see the bastard. As if it’s racing to get closer to him. As if it thinks it’s somehow wanted. What a dumb, ignorant heart.

Thank fuck the gorgeous devil must agree with me that what happened between us in his bathroom was a massive mistake. The following day, he wouldn’t even look at me. I saw more of his back and heard more of his grunts than at any prior point of our acquaintance. And he hasn’t tried to maneuver us into a similar circumstance again. Not that I would allow that to happen! No, no way!

Lately, DeVille has been treating me almost like I don’t exist. He leaves the room as soon as he spots me in it. He says nothing at all when we happen to occupy the same space. Whichhas been very rare, actually. He’s been gone for long hours every day.

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