"What?" She throws up her hands. "You coming all over me—"
"Which you enjoyed."
She opens her mouth—
I slash my palm across the air, "Don't deny it."
She flattens her lips, "—or that you didn’t let me come?"
"Ah... Now that," I tap my fingers on my chest, "is easy to fix."
"I'm sure I don't want to know this."
"Oh, but you do. All you have to do is come to me and ask me for help."
"Help?"
"From whatever situation it is that you find yourself in." I turn, scan her features. "I have power, Gigi."
"And money," she says bitterly.
"More than you can imagine." I nod. "Whatever problem you have, I can resolve it for you."
"In return for what?"
I look her up and down, "I'll think of something."
"No doubt." She turns to glance outside, her profile bleak. Her chin wobbles. That same strange heat stabs at my chest, a reaction I seem to have when I hurt her.
Fuck. This...is unacceptable.
"Or not." I straighten.
The limo pulls up to the curb in front of her hotel.
She reaches for the door.
"There's one thing more."
She pauses.
"You won't come," I command.
"What?" She turns around to stare at me. "The hell do you mean?"
I lean back, place my arm across the back of the seat. "Your every orgasm belongs to me."
"No."
"Yes," I nod, waggle a finger in the air. "No cheating, darling. You will not come until I give you permission."
"Fuck you."
She pushes open the door, flounces off. The limo pulls away, turns the corner, then stops.
I push open my door, step around, and slide into the driver's seat.
"You better know what you're doing," Weston growls from the passenger seat.
I glance over him, laugh, "The uniform suits you."
"I didn't have to wear the hat." He tosses it down between the seats.
"Aww, women love men in uniform," I snicker.
"You're envious of how I look in scrubs," he retorts.
I shoot him a sideways glance. "Still can't understand why you chose to become a doctor."
"Same reason you wear those beat up cowboy boots."
"Sentimental value." I raise my shoulders.
"Keep telling yourself that," he mutters. "Besides, considering the amount of time I'm spending to help you with your affair, I may not be a doctor for much longer."
"Not an affair," I mutter, easing the car back in traffic.
"Yeah." He scratches his jaw, "Seriously, you could have allowed the woman a little time to recover from the funeral."
"It's all a bloody act." I spot a break in traffic, step on the gas, and the limo pulls forward.
"The private investigator come through with information?"
"Some." I frown. "Enough to confirm that she's not as innocent as she'd want me to believe."
"And her marriage?"
I draw in a breath, then pull out my pack of cigarettes. I depress the button for the lighter, then toss the pack over to Weston, "Light one for me, will you?"
"Thought you quit."
"Don't fucking nag me, man."
He shoots me a sideways glance, then pulls out a cigarette. He leans forward, grabs the lighter from the dash and lights it up. He blows out smoke, before placing it between my lips. I draw in a puff, then another.
"So, her marriage is—?" he prompts.
I blow out a breath. "Couldn't find any evidence of it being legal."
Weston turns to me, "You mean...?"
I hold up my hand, "I don't think it's genuine."
"Maybe it's wishful thinking?" He drums his fingers on his thigh. "You sure that you aren't splitting straws."
And isn't that the fucking truth? Why the hell can't I simply walk away from her?
"We'll find out soon enough." I draw in a breath. "For now the scene is set."
"Scene?" He glowers at me. "Don't push it, man. You're already w-a-a-y too involved with this woman."
"Involved?" I laugh. "You know how much I love riddles. It's been a long time since I’ve found one that challenged me."
"Be careful, Saint." He snickers, "Some puzzles are best left unsolved."
4
What is more useful when it is broken?
Answer: An egg
Three weeks later
Victoria
"Am I intruding?" I stare across the office of the executive level of 7A investments. This is it. I couldn't put it off anymore. I have nowhere else to go in this city. After Adam's death, I'd moved out of the hotel and into a studio in Hackney.
I am playing the role the Mafia has demanded of me, but the resources I have to rely on are meagre—what I have left over from the job I'd started after graduating from UCLA. A month into it, I got the call that Nina had been kidnapped, and my entire life had changed.
"You’re already here." Saint glares back. "May as well come all the way in." He drags his gaze down to my chest. A flush blooms on my cheeks.
I haven't seen him since that encounter in the limo, but his every word, the expression on his face as he'd come, the way he'd massaged his cum into my skin, marking me as his... I remember every single detail. I had masturbated every night to the image of his orgasm; and I had not come. Damn him, but I couldn't let myself climax.
It wasn't for trying, honestly, but every time I came close to the edge, I lost courage, I couldn't see it through. I felt bereft. Rudderless. Needing, wanting, searching for something...someone to lead me. To take control. Damn the man, I don't need his permission to come. I don't.
His perusal shifts to my belly, my core. Moisture pools in my center. Sweat beads my palm. The invisible connection between us crackles, tightens further. My scalp tingles. The hair on my neck rises. Is the chemistry between us more potent than I remember?
My head spins.
"Victoria, are you okay?" Summer asks from across the room.
I open my mouth to answer when a sound reaches me. I glance down to find a puppy sniffing at my ankles. Huh? Why hadn't I noticed the little fella earlier? He whines, plonks himself down on his haunches and looks up at me with melting eyes. My heart
