She shoved him away using every ounce of strength she had, but he didn’t budge. He absorbed her resistance like it was nothing, deepening the kiss as if her struggle excited him.
She bit his lip, hard enough to draw blood. He pulled back for only a second, then smirked, licking the blood off his lip before kissing her again.
She tried to fight. She really did. But something shifted in that moment, something she couldn’t quite explain. The anger in her chest tangled with something else, something traitorous. And at the same time, a soft, unwilling moan slipped from her lips. She knew what this unwanted desire was, it was her ovulation and it seemed different whenever Makros was involved.
Abruptly, he pulled away with a smile, leaving her breathless and furious.
“Bastard,” she hissed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand after spitting on the floor. Her hormones fight inside of her.
His grin was infuriatingly smug. “Since I was a little boy,” he replied easily.
“You think you’re so–” she snapped. “That was the worst kiss of my entire life.”
“I believe you.” He chuckled, turning toward the door.
She glared daggers at his back. “The worst, Makros! You hear me? The worst.”
He paused at the door, looking at her over his shoulder. “Si. I heard you, Wifey. Well, stay put. Until dinner, then.Ciao.”
Her scowl deepened. “Dinner? It’s not even noon. Why the hell will I be here until then?” As the question rolled out, her unease grew.
The angry man she had seen minutes ago was gone. In his place was someone worse. A cool, calm and calculated man. It made her stomach churn.
“I’d love to answer that, but Wifey you're smart enough to figure that out on your own. And oh, tell me if the punishment fits the crime. I love feedback.”
The door closed.
“Makros!” She shot up from the bed just as she heard the lock turn.
“Enjoy your stay,” he said, laughing as he walked away.
Her curses followed him down the hallway, but they only fueled his amusement. The woman was all fire and brimstone, always ready to burn. But what she hadn’t realized yet was that her anger only made his game more enjoyable.
His smile faded when he stepped into his office. The moment he closed the door, the irritation returned. The image of Stefano standing beside Leila burned in his mind.
The lady’s man was what they called his cousin.
Stefano had a way with words, a way of slipping into people’s heads and twisting them around his fingers. He could talk a hooker into fucking him for free. He could negotiate his way out of any situation. That was not the kind of man he wanted around his wife.
And she smiled at him. But had recoiled when she saw him.
Makros' jaw clenched, fury simmering in his blood. He didn’t want to admit it pricked his ego, so he threw himself into a work mood.
His hand hovered over the office phone, ready to make a call, when a knock interrupted him.
He exhaled sharply. “Who is it?”
“It’s me.”
Damn Stefanos.
“Come in.”
Stefano stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind him. He didn’t sit. Only stood there, waiting.
Makros leaned back in his chair, his gaze piercing. “Do you plan on standing there like an idiot, or are you going to explain why you were with my wife?”
Stefano didn’t flinch. He expected the question. But he hadn’t expected Makros to actually ask.
