AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He stops, nods, and mutters something.
When he looks at me, I see he’s wearing an earpiece. “I guess it’s your lucky day. This way.”
I follow the man through what must be a secret door, a panel of the wall that hides a dark hall. We climb a set of stairs to a big wooden door. He knocks once and opens it, then leaves.
With a shaky breath, I turn the handle and step into a huge tacky office that has a lot of black velvet sofas and a large lacquered desk in the center of it.
Malone leans against it, dressed in cream and black. His longish blond hair shines and his tall, muscular form makes my insides squeeze hard. He shouldn’t look this good. He’s a criminal.
But he does.
“I take it you still want my fucking help.”
“Yes.” I take half a step closer. “W-what’s the price?”
He smiles.
“That’s easy… You.”
FIVE
malone
“Me?” The word’s flat, barely a question, and I study her closely.
Fuck, she’s gorgeous. Not just pretty, though she is that, too. But gorgeous. It’s usually a word I equate with perfect makeup and glamour. Or exotic, erotic displays of feminine perfection. Not natural.
It’s not just Scarlett’s beauty that adds the extra something I call gorgeous. It’s her force, that thing around her, shining from within her. The steel and velvet and everything in between.
The long, wavy black hair, creamy skin with soft, kissable lips, dark brows, and light-golden eyes. But she doesn’t really do anything to highlight those features. I fuck women who are put together, who take what they’ve been given and heighten it for my pleasure, and no doubt for theirs.
Scarlett doesn’t need to do a damn thing. She’s got the full package and it’s all natural.
She’s wearing a different dress today, a tight black one, and her heels are lower. Pretty and subtly sexy, choosing instead hinting over flaunting, and it looks like she’s work ready.
My fingers itch to touch her, to peel her out of those layers. I didn’t really get to touch her outside against the bar, at least not in the way I wanted. A way that would have sent her to her knees with my cock down her throat.
Or her with her red dress hiked up and panties pulled aside while I had her face-first against the brick wall.
I tap my ringed hand on the corner of the desk. “You.”
“Last time I checked,” she says, eyes narrowing, not making an effort to come any bit closer in a “please seduce me” move girls like her often use, “this isn’t the Middle Ages, and no one’s offered me as a dowry.”
“You’re wrong.”
“You have a time traveling office?”
I grin and it’s fucking real. For some reason, her dry, snarky humor makes my libido jack itself up. “You’ve been offered.”
“I didn’t get the memo.”
It isn’t what I meant, but I let it slide as I straighten up and walk toward her so I can breathe in her scent of gardenias. “You have, you know. By coming here. By not waiting for me to decide whether I was going to contact you or not. Whether your boring fucking plight’s worth my time.”
“It’s not little or boring, you asshole.”
I wrap my fingers around her throat, ignoring the tingle of heat from her skin, the delicate feel of the bones, and the rushing beat of her pulse when I give it a little squeeze. I pull her in close. “Don’t fucking call me names, Scarlett.”
“Or what?”
