Page 68 of Wicked Mafia Sinner

"Da. Mulch, Cora." He is still laughing, the words coming through breaks in the sound. "The north side of the cabin. The mulch has been rotting for three weeks. Drainage problems. Mold. You name it." He releases one of my wrists to swipe the blood from his lip. "I was calling my groundskeeper."

I blink up at him. Yeah, it’s starting to add up, but I don’t let the scowl on my face retreat. Not yet.

"The disposal site is the county composting facility. The problem is fungal growth on decomposing cedar bark. The thing that needs to be dealt with is a pile of mulch."

I stare at him some more as he tries to explain in more detail.

I glance down at myself for the first time since leaving the compound. His shirt and how I mis-buttoned the thing. Black cotton hangs off one shoulder and there’s mud smeared down the front. My bare legs are covered in goosebumps and a scratch from a branch I don't remember hitting has formed droplets of blood along the surface. Then there’s my gardening boots, tons of pine needles sticking out of everywhere…just ugh. I look like the before photo in a survival guide.

I raise my eyes back to his face and he still has the audacity to stand there smiling.

I swear if he comes a step closer I might just slap him.

He pushes his luck when he cups my face between the palms of his hands and smiles down at me like I am his sole source of entertainment. There’s so much freaking joy glowing in his eyes it kinda takes away the urge to slap the man.

He seems to pause for a minute as if he knows I’m on the edge of either losing or laughing myself.

"You ran through the woods because you thought I was going to off you, but I was only speaking of mulch."

“Yeah. I get that now.” I frown and let out a deep sigh. “And I did it in no underwear, I might add.”

His chest rumbles with a laugh that has me warming from inside out.

I step out of his touch, stumble and land on my knees. This is as good a time as any to just give up.

“Cora, my sunshine, are you okay?”

He steps up to me and places a heavy hand on my shoulder.

Facing away from him, I hold a hand up. “Gimme a minute please.” Mortification is not something I thought I’d be experiencing at high noon in the middle of a forest, yet here I am turning the color of a tomato. Heat rises from the soles of my feet and blooms upward until my face burns.

The way I see it, I have two options. Die of embarrassment or kill the man. There's plenty of land out here to hide a body and all I’d have to do is plant endangered plants over the body.

I choose a third option.

I whirl, grab the front of his shirt with both fists and drag him down to me.

The kiss is different from every kiss before it. The anger hasn't left, but the fear has, and what remains is adrenaline, relief and the raw voltage of believing you lost everything and getting it back in five minutes flat. His hands find my waist and lift me. My legs wrap around him as we roll in a bed of oak leaves and pine needles.

He rolls over me and we lock gazes. "I hate you," I say against his mouth and sink my teeth into flesh. His growl is instant.

"Da." He kisses me harder. His hands grip my thighs, spread them wider, pull me tighter against the length of him already hard through his sweatpants. "I know."

He steals a kiss.

I thump his chest. "I'm serious. I actually hate you right now."

"If it makes you feel better, you bit my lip." His mouth drops to my neck and his teeth scrape the spot below my ear that turns my spine to liquid. "I'm wounded and bleeding. I’ve been punished."

He pulls back and shows me his lip and you know what…

"Good."

He laughs again as he dips his mouth to kiss my neck again. The vibration travels through my body and reaches deep inside me. His hands slide under my shirt. His touch is deliciously rough and the cold morning air hits every place his fingers leave warm. The contrast makes me gasp against his mouth.

"Take me, Rowan," I whisper into his neck where he holds me close. I spread my thighs around his hips. The weight of his cock between us is a torment because I need him in the worst way possible but there’s a barrier between us.

I slip my fingers into the band of his sweats and pull. His cock springs free, thick, flushed dark, the head swollen with the same urgency that has my hands shaking against his skin.