Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
He seems unfazed as he puts the glass of scotch down beside me.
“Be careful. You can’t touch what you haven’t paid for,” I purr. My body thrums for him, an unwelcome need eating me alive.
But I refuse to give in to the likes of River Bently.
When he becomes a little bolder and presses into me, his bulging trousers in line with the edge of my skirt, I press the letter opener firmer against his throat. It won’t do too much damage, but if I were to get a little stabby with it, it certainly will. “Tell me why you’re here, River.”
His gaze dips to my cleavage, and it arouses satisfaction in me because he’s still only a man. I paid a lot of money for these tits, so they better be the best. Enough to even bring someone like River to his knees.
“For you, of course,” he says without hesitation.
“Why?” I ask again.
“I think I’m due my taste,” he insists. In such close proximity, I can smell his cologne, and I hate how it challenges my focus.
“Yeah, about that. We didn’t agree on how many ‘tastes’ you got. Now, you can leave if that is all you came here for.”
“They’re my guns, did you know that?” He inclines his head toward the door, indicating the auction room.
“Sorry, your what?” I ask, confused by his words.
“Those guns you’re auctioning off in there are mine.”
I freeze momentarily. There have only ever been a few times I’ve been caught off guard. In fact, I can count them on one hand. This is one of them.
“Are they?” I ask. Truth be told, I don’t know where Alek gets them from. I know who I contact about them, and that’s the extent of it.
“Yes, and as I said, I have played nice. I have given you your cut for me to work here, and I’ve even been working with your brother to give him guns.” He picks up his glass and takes a sip of his drink. “So where the fuck is my cut?”
“Your cut?” I ask.
“Yes. Your brother usually pays on time, but not this time. I let the shipment go in good faith and as a favor to you. Because I knew you were good for it. Tell me I’m wrong, Red.” I’m shocked. How did I not know this?
Reaching for my phone beside his glass of scotch, I scroll through my contacts for the gun smuggler and place the letter opener beside me. He remains where he is as he smugly takes another sip. His size widening my legs is a very difficult distraction, making me want to mount him.
The smuggler answers on the third ring. It sounds like he’s just woken up. “Anya?”
“Who is the supplier?” I ask him.
“Well, it’s a shipping—”
“No, who owns it.” I cut him off. He pauses, as if unsure what to say. “Who am I buying these from?” I basically growl into the phone as River stands in front of me, sipping his drink and watching me with those fucked-up eyes.
“River Bently does,” the guy on the other end of the phone says.
My heart falters for a moment. Fuck.
I hang up and look River dead in the eyes.
“How much does my brother owe you?”
He smirks, taking a last sip of his drink before he places the empty glass down. I hate how it smells on his breath. No, it’s just him as a whole. This entire time, he’s been fucking with me. I had no idea, and I don’t handle being fooled very well. He casually brushes something from my shoulder, though I’m sure there was nothing there.
“A lot,” he utters, leaning in and breathing in my ear. “I don’t take kindly to late payments, but I could let this one slide for another taste.” My nipples peak in attention at his closeness, and I can feel my breathing grow heavier.
Just a taste.
I don’t like being backed into a corner, and suddenly that empty glass near his hand is awfully tempting. His hand drops to mine when I hadn’t even realized my hand was already drifting toward it.
“This is not the time to get stabby, Tanya,” he chastises.
“I was going to use the glass over your head first, then the letter opener.”
His laugh kicks my heartbeat up a notch, and I’m certain I can feel its vibration slip straight to my core.
This man is dangerous on so many levels.
“How much do I owe you if I agree to a taste?”
“Technically, without the late payment, he owes me fifty million.” He smiles and pulls back, and I feel the absence of his warm hand over mine. I have the urge to scrub my hands and body immediately, not used to the unfamiliar feeling that lingers.
He casually takes his empty glass and walks over to the bar as if he owns it, and pours himself another drink. I know my brother only likes expensive-tasting liquor. We’re the same in that sense, a taste for expensive vices. Mine just so happens to be the shiny type. “Late payment is an extra million a day,” he adds.