Page 27 of Hostile Secret
I remain stoic, my jaw tightening when she curls a ribbon of golden hair around her finger and offers a girlie smile at the same time. My gaze dallies from the crown of her head to her exposed thighs.
“Cute outfit, niñita.”
Nonchalantly, trying to hide her flushed reaction, she flips me the bird.
“Thanks for allowing Daenis into my room. It’s good to know you’re not a complete asshole.”
If anyone else disrespected me like that, they’d be gargling their own blood. Despite that fact, her playfulness is refreshing, or maybe it’s because she’s not afraid of me.
There are only a handful of people in this world who aren’t, which puts her in the minority. I like that about her—and the fact she’s an unsuspecting weapon collector.
“And please stop calling me that stupid name,” she growls, folding her arms across her midriff.
My gaze returns to the iPad and stays there. “The dog is lucky I didn’t throw it off the cliff.”
“Well… now it means you can’t show up unannounced in my room anymore. Daenis won’t like it.”
“But you would.” I state, mindfully training my thoughts to stay neutral rather than recall the taste of her mouth. “I’ve no plans to visit you again, niñita. There aren’t any more storms forecast. You and I are all caught up for now.”
“Are we?”
Every step she takes eats up the space separating us until she stops beside me, ignoring the fact her place setting is laid out at the opposite end of the sweeping dining table.
I stare at her beautiful face. Her prominent Cupid’s bow glistens and the subtle feminine scent emanating from her skin would smell a thousand times better if I was between her legs.
I clear my throat and point to the freshly prepared breakfast yards away from us.
“Sit at the other end of the table. We leave in fifteen minutes.”
Her pretty lashes, coated in pitch-black mascara, flutter as she takes in my fitted black t-shirt.
“Can I have my phone back… please?”
Even though she’s being overly nice, I assume she thinks I can be manipulated, or maybe she’s realized I’m in charge and there’s no point fighting it.
Good girl.
However, the bold courage ingrained into her spirit would take a lot to subdue under the right circumstances.
But having her this close again and wearing those knee-high socks, I’m finding it an immense challenge to calm my pulse the fuck down. All I’m imagining are leather straps around her innocent naked curves, tight mesh and cuffs, blush pink slap marks, and an untouched pussy.
Holy fuck.
The mental vision of her gagging on my dick as I spurt cum into her mouth has my blood pumping straight to a new boner.
When the tip of her tongue skates between glossy lips, my impulses battle against my restraint. I wasn’t prepared for this buzz and it's knocking me off balance.
“Your phone is over there…” I point. “… where you should be sitting and eating.”
Her forehead creases as she glances at the tiny espresso cup sitting next to the iPad. “Aren’t you eating?”
“I’ve already had breakfast this morning.” Half an hour ago, while she was still in bed.
“So, all that food is for me?” India side eyes the pancake stack drizzled in syrup, a deep basket filled with pastries, and a fresh fruit platter that awaits her.
“Yeah.” I set my elbows on the table and steeple my fingers, then immediately unclasp them.
My father would have regarded me across the dining table in this very same manner. Replicating his actions angers me. I’m not that bastard, and I never will be.
