Page 81 of Monstrous Urges


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Drazen’s mouth pulls into a lethal smile. “I’ve heard Crown and Black have recently purchased Poulter and Lenz. Congratulations.”

The back of my neck tingles.

“Thank you. We’re all very excited.”

He smiles predatorily. “Are you, now.”

Shit.

He’s not even trying to hide the fact that he knows what’s going on. It’s written all over his face.

“That’s confidential,” I say primly.

“Nothing is beyond my reach,” Drazen growls back. “The sooner you realize that, the easier this will be.” He sighs. “Which is how I know that Roger Fairchild has your balls…figuratively speaking, of course”—he fixes me with a hungry, dark look—“in a vice.”

I lick my lips nervously.

“And?”

“And it would seem that Crown and Black is thus in dire straits. Sure, you might put up a good fight for the next year or so. But in the end, surely you know there’s no scenario that doesn’t result in Roger Fairchild acquiring the firm you and your little friends built from the ground up.”

My temper flares and my pulse quickens as I glare at him.

“What’s your point.”

He smiles. “My point is that Crown and Black needs a lifeboat. And it just so happens, I own a marina full of them.”

I go still as what he’s saying truly hits me.

“So, yes,” he growls. “I do, in fact, need you to play my wife for the purposes of swaying business I have with the Iron Table.”

“What sort of?—”

“The kind in which the details or even broad strokes of aren’t your concern,” he says gruffly.

My brow arches.

“What I don’t need,” Drazen continues, “is you playing a half-assed role or me having to wonder at which point you’ll purposefully sabotage things. So I’m going to propose a deal with you.”

I swallow. “I’m listening.”

“You’ll be my wife. You’ll play the role—and to be clear,” he growls with a dark grin, “I do mean every aspect of the role.”

Traitorous heat floods my core.

“When…” I swallow thickly. “When will you…you know…”

“Fuck you?”

I flush, my nipples tightening. “Yes,” I whisper.

“When you least expect it.”

Holy fuck.

Drazen shrugs, stroking a finger over his jawline.

“Your pussy just tastes so much sweeter when it’s flavored with fear.”

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