Page 75 of Ruined Vows
Luka grins at me in the rearview mirror. “It sounds like progress.”
“It is,” I murmur. But damn, she’s under my skin, and she could break me with that gorgeous ass and sassy mouth. She’s got me right where she wants me, eating out of her hand. But I won’t back down. She could ask me to bow out, and I wouldn’t, because I claimed her, and I’ll have her.
Besides, she’s invaded all the places I forgot were still soft, and I’m still standing.
19
BIANCA
TEQUILA AND TENDER MOMENTS
Iwake up with a hangover made of tequila, adrenaline, and bad decisions. I groan when I remember where we left off.
That kiss. It was hotter than hell, and I didn’t want it to end.
And his eyes? Dark and soulful. His lips? Fuck, I can still taste the tequila on his warm lips, and the expensive smell of him— musk mixed with danger and intrigue.
Even as I lick my lips now, I taste Vukan Petrovic’s mouth.
It’s a reminder that last night wasn’t a dream. It’s just... inconvenient. I wanted him to break, but he has the willpower of a sledgehammer.
I’m still in the oversized tee I threw on when I got home—makeup smudged, and my hair is a low-level war crime. The second my face hits sunlight, my phone buzzes.
Joanne. Of course. I’m sure she’s hoping I’m in his bed, so I answer on the second ring and grunt, “Why are you calling me like something’s on fire?”
“Oh, don’t start with me,” she snaps. “Tell me everything. Now. How was Date Five? Did he bring you to a private island or a blood pact ceremony?”
“Neither,” I mumble, pouring coffee. “A dive bar.”
Silence. Followed by, “I’m sorry. Awhat?”
“A dive bar. Pool. Darts. Beer in bottles.”
More silence. Then, with enough glee to power the sun: “Youlikehim.”
“Idon’t.”
“Liar. Did he kiss you?”
I pause.
She gasps. “Hedid.”
“It was... halfway.” Well, maybe I initiated it, but she doesn’t need to know that.
“Oh my God. What does that even mean?”
“I mean, we met in the middle, and it was—” I stop, leaning against the counter. “It was... a problem.”
“A good one?”
“Theworstkind.”
She laughs. “Spill.”
“We shot pool. He was annoyingly good. I lost. He gloated a bit. He said he won, after all. Whatever. So, I challenged him to darts. I won.”
“Because you’re terrifying. And you were in a dart league.”
