Dangerous Love(9)

By: Penny Wylder

“I followed your request, sweetie.” Now she’s the one smirking, and fuck, I like it. “Now it’s my turn to ask a question.”

I grin right back. Fucking hell. I’ve never met a girl quite like her. But she’s going to get herself into trouble, playing with fire like this. “Daddy didn’t teach you how to scheme the way he does, did he?” I murmur. “You shouldn’t show all your cards, Ashley, not this early in the game.”

Her eyes narrow at the mention of her father, and she lets go of the hem of her skirt, letting it fall back down around her thighs. “My father taught me how to negotiate just fine, thank you very much.”

“Not like he does,” I interrupt. “Not the same cutthroat, take no prisoners, kill anyone in your path style.”

“My father doesn’t kill anybody,” she replies, voice so secure and haughty that it actually makes me burst into laughter. She blinks, startled, and I realize she actually believes that.

“You don’t know your father half as well as you think you do, Ashley,” I murmur.

She narrows her eyes. “I should think of the two of us, one of us knows him much better than the other. Now stop stalling. You owe me a secret, Damon Tell.”

“That I do. But we didn’t specify what secret. So I’ll tell you this one voluntarily—I’m not in here for the reasons you think I am.”

She scoffs. “Right. You’re innocent. Just like every other thug Dad has hired who stabbed him in the back the second they had the chance.”

“I never said I was innocent,” I interrupt. “But if you think your father has never stabbed any of his people in the back either, then you’re more naive than I thought.”

“That’s your secret, then? ‘I’m not in here for the reasons you think?’ That doesn’t tell me anything, Damon. If you’re going to cheat, there’s no point to this game.” She spins around, about to walk toward the door.

On instinct, I grab her waist. Pull her backward. She falls onto my lap, and for a second, we both freeze, as her full, muscular ass rubs against my cock, still bulging against the zipper of my jeans.

Then she gasps and pushes back to her feet, off of me.

“I’m not cheating,” I say before she can say anything else. Before she can run again. “You need to set ground rules. You need to tell the other person you’re negotiating with exactly what you’re willing to trade and for what.” I push to my feet, and I don’t miss the way her throat catches or her pupils dilate as she gazes up at me, mouth parted, expression torn between anger and lust. I know that feeling. It’s the same one I’m feeling right now. I want to rip that tight little skirt off her and fuck her until she screams. But at the same time, I know how dangerous that is. How dangerous she is.

I need to follow my own advice and set ground rules for this game.

“For example,” I tell her, “I will give you a hint about where the money is located—a hint only—if you can keep yourself from begging me to make you come.”

There’s a pause, and I watch her breath catch again thinking about it. I know she’s every inch as turned on as I am. I plan to use that to my advantage.

“Wh-what are you going to do to try to make me? Beg, I mean,” she adds, and she almost manages to hide the sexy catch in her voice. Almost.

“Tongue and fingers only,” I tell her. Then my mouth quirks into a half smile. “This time, anyway.”

Her eyes narrow. “If I win, there won’t be a next time.”

“Maybe.” My eyes search hers. Find the same white-hot lust in them that burns in my own. “Or maybe I’ll get you addicted. Maybe you’ll be back for more, and succumb to me again and again, because you can’t stop yourself from begging for release.”

That does it. The dare is enough to push her over the edge into doing something she might regret. And fuck am I glad for it.

Ashley sidesteps me, drops back onto the bed and lies back across it. Then she hikes up her skirt once more, baring that tight, gorgeous, wet little pussy to the world. “You talk a big game, Damon. Let’s see how well you play it.”

“Spread your legs.”

Ashley Marrón does as she’s told. She spreads her legs wide enough for me to see that she’s shaved her pussy lips too, and there’s a little pearl of moisture collecting on the edge of them, just below the entrance to her pussy. Fucking hell, I want to fuck her. The way she glares up at me, equal parts defiant and turned on, is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Well, maybe next to the tight-as-hell outfit she’s wearing, and the panties she isn’t.