Page 47 of Hostile Secret
Sitting this close to her, already tests my willpower and now she’s of age––fuck—I’m struggling to keep my shit together.
I ignore the painful boner in my pants and remind myself of her disobedience. How she’d chosen to misbehave. But mastering this craving for her is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
“So, you decided to go wild in a bar dressed like a popsicle and walk outside alone so every cunt in North Colombia would want a taste.”
Anger rattles my bones. If I’d known it was her birthday, I would never have left her alone. I guess if I’d had the opportunity to answer André’s call earlier, he would have told me.
“I hate you, Gio.” In that second, her voice wobbles.
It’s a blended crack of seething anger and bitter regret. She knows I’m right and telling me I’m on her hate list is the only way to make herself feel better.
“In reality, I had nothing to celebrate.” She continues, the tone of her voice broken from exhaustion. “But the girls wanted to come home with me for a birthday party at Blackwater. And that was never gonna happen. The best compromise for everyone was to go to Elysian instead.” Her breathing quickens. “You have no idea what it’s like for me. No one does.”
I finally take the risk and stare at her side profile as the moonlight dares to caress her flawless complexion. Its silvery glow transforms her tears to sparkly diamonds. She’s exquisite.
“I didn’t know it was your birthday. You should have told me.”
“It was just another day. No biggy.” She wipes her dainty nose with the back of her hand and scowls as she types out a message. “I’m letting Ana know I was picked up, otherwise she’d have a search party out looking for me. And everyone cries, Gio, except for heartless assholes like you.”
In a heartbeat, I slam my foot on the brake and pull the car over. My hand’s around her neck before I exhale. Not stealing a kiss from her tempting lips tests my whole purpose on this planet. I want to devour the lush landscape of her soft flesh and stick my tongue down her goddamn throat.
“The only asshole here is you. I should be in a business meeting right now… yet here I am, sitting next to you having just wiped out five rival cartel guys all because you were in danger.”
She easily swallows against my palm, her breathing unrestricted. “I said I was sorry.”
I rub my thumb over her wet lips. “Sorry isn’t good enough, baby. I want more than that.”
14
INDIA
The sleepy contentment within me ends abruptly and coldness creeps into my bones.
My lashes flutter open, encrusted with dried distress after the argument I’d had with Giovanni. All I see is darkness and metal bars.
Achy cuts on my knees have dried to scabs and my lungs are as tight as a drum.
“What the hell?” I bolt upright and freeze. My ass is sitting on a soft blanket that covers a concrete floor. “Giovanni?”
“Right here,” his husky voice rumbles from the shadows.
“What is this place… why am I in here?” My wide eyes focus on the dimly lit edges of the barren surroundings. “Where’s Daenis?”
I squint through the rows of thin vertical steel trapping me inside a small cell without windows. A far-off strip of cream light brings shadows to life in the room beyond my cage and the man who’s locked me in here.
My spine straightens, the vertebrae locking in preparation to meet my jailer. I suck in a lightning breath when he prowls closer in an ominous hush that sucks me into an alarming vortex. When he reaches the parallel bars, I blink at the magnificent sight of him.
He’s bare-chested, his tattooed muscles flexed, oozing dominance and power. Disorderly ebony hair hangs over his brow and the dusting of stubble on his strong jaw seems so much darker compared to the glistening whites of his hunter eyes.
Loose joggers sit comfortably on angular hip bones, low enough to reveal a trail of scattered hairs, regretfully leading my gaze lower.
He clears his throat. The rumble of that one throaty reverberation instantly sets my flesh on fire. I swallow hard to suppress the butterflies in my chest, furious at my helpless reaction to him.
“I can’t trust you anymore, India.” The way he says my name, whispers over my scalp.
I don’t miss the sudden change in how he addresses me. I’m not a little girl anymore and he knows it.
When his long fingers circle the bars, the family ring on his middle finger clanks the metal like a death bell. My pulse thrums when a slight smile creeps over his face. It’s a self-satisfied smirk, almost demonic, tainted from an edge of indecency.
