“Ugh!”
Miranda screams, kicks, and scratches. Then she bites. That defense move turns me on the most. It is as possessive as it is aggressive, and proves she knows deep down that our hookups over the past few days haven’t been about searching for the fifteen-million-dollar cocaine shipment that went awry when I was taking out the trash striving to make her an overnight online sensation, and everything to do with an obsession a year in the making.
Yes, I stalked her.
Yes, I stroked my cock while watching her move from the gym in her garage to her loft-like bedroom, removing her clothes on the way.
Yes, I wanted her from the moment I saw her.
But I didn’t force her to become a part of my life.
I stood back and made sure she was safe. Then the name of her catering business fell into my lap.
That was three daysafterwe slept together.
Coincidence? Un-fucking-likely. But I wasn’t going to sidestep the perfect opportunity to show this beautiful, cock-thickening woman that she deserves far better than a weasel like Roy Martin.
I just had to perfect the work-life balance my personal life has been without for over two decades.
The hours I wasn’t with Miranda, I’ve been striving to find the missing coke and who threw her name into the hat when I got too close to the truth. It can’t be Roy or Tasha. They’ve been under my captivity the entire time, so it has to be someone else—someone not even Miranda would consider looking at.
The gleam Eight’s eyes got when he was told to revisit Miranda’s warehouse has wild curls and chubby cheeks popping into my head—and a heap of unfounded theories.
“What was the name of your assistant, again? The curvy one with the curly hair.”
Miranda kicks out so hard that I’m almost emasculated.
She almost takes out my dick.
“Don’t you dare bring Shiloh into this. She hasn’t done anything wrong.”
I adjust her to protect my nuts before saying, “If she means something to you, she means something to me, butterfly, so you have my word that I won’t do shit to her.”
Eight, on the other hand…
I’m pulled from uncalled-for thoughts when Miranda shouts, “How can a shipping kerfuffle be blamed on anyone but the shipping company? Nikolai said it was a mistake!”
“Nikolai is a man in love. He’s about to marry his angel and watch her birth his kin. He isn’t thinking with his head right now. That’s why I need to have his back.”
As much as this kills me to admit, I now have a better understanding of Trey’s concerns.
I’m just as snowed under as Nikolai, if not more.
When you’re finally lucky enough to test something you’ve craved for months, you fall for its wizardry fucking fast.
I’m under Miranda’s spell, and not at all ashamed to admit that.
Miranda’s words rip from her mouth. “Oh, right. Sorry. I forget fucking someone below your league is how men like you take one for the team!”
Nothing but fury resonates in my tone. “What the fuck did you just say?”
I don’t care about her insinuation men in my industry use their dicks to get what they want. That’s a well-used tactic in any ruses that involve women. I’m pissed as fuck to her alluding that she’s below me.
I stayed away after her cocoon cracked because I know she’s too good for me. I didn’t want her wings sullied so soon after they were freed. I struggle to keep my hands to myself when she’s in the vicinity. She’s the flame and I’m the moth. Our wings aren’t close to the same caliber, so I tried to do the right thing.
Tried—the ultimate summit of my viewpoint.
I can’t do it anymore.
