Page 73 of Wicked Mafia Sinner

I cast a sideways glance to find a grin tugging at the corner of his lip.

“Cora,” he drawls, but the man forgot to weave in a warning. All I hear is a bona fide dare. My mind turns away from our destination and onto how to torture information out of my lover the fun way.

I reach for his zipper and this time I don’t tease. I pull it down and the hiss is sweet music.

With his hands on the wheel, I watch him inhale deeply. His chest expands and I can practically feel the heat cranking up in the cabin of the SUV.

His gaze blazes over me, teasing over my body. His hand follows in its wake, tracing over my breasts, swirling a finger over my nipple. He moves lower, his hand tracing over my stomach until his fingers slide between my legs.

Game on.

Good thing I opted for one of the two dresses he brought home for me. This one is the color of a summer sunset and should be used for that time of year but it’s too pretty to sit in a closet for nine months of the year.

I walked out of the bedroom after his incredibly informative instruction to "prepare for an outing," and the smile on his face hasn't fully left.

I grabbed a white cardigan and some buttery soft mid-calf boots. Right now I’m ready to strip it all off and climb over to his side.

"Tell me where we’re going and I’ll be a good girl.”

He chuckles warmly. “Try again. I happen to like it when you’re naughty.”

Hmm. Time for a new tactic. “Please? Tell me and I’ll do anything you want.”

He pushes the hem of my dress up to reveal my upper thigh. He rests his hand there and gently strokes small circles over my skin. "It’s a surprise."

"I don't like surprises."

"You'll like this one."

I shift in the passenger seat and study him the way I study a new varietal before I commit to stocking it. In daylight, above ground, Rowan Volkov is a different creature entirely. Underground, surrounded by black marble he is all about shadows and control. Up here, with the sun slanting through the windshield and hitting the hard line of his jaw, the gray threading through his dirty-blond hair catches the light like filaments of spun silver. The creases at the corners of his eyes deepen when the sun is too bright. Flooded in light, he squints, stripping away the dark god vibe and making him more human.

The ink on his forearms disappears under the cuffs of his shirt, and the muscles in his hands flex every time he shifts the wheel. I watch the tendons move under tanned skin and my mind flashes to those hands on my hips yesterday morning after our run through the woods.

My thighs press together. The ache between them is a low, pleasant reminder of his touch.

"You're staring," he says without looking at me.

"You're driving me to an undisclosed location. I'm cataloging your face in case I need to describe you to a sketch artist." The batteries to my sass are getting a good recharge the longer we stay in the sunlight.

His mouth twitches with what I assume is amusement.

"You have my face memorized, sunshine."

He's not wrong. “Touché.” I slip my hand into his and slide our palms together. “I was really just thinking how much you’ve changed. We’ve changed, really if you think about it. I guess one hardly ever thinks about it, but when you are forced out of your daily grind, you learn a lot about yourself.”

“I’m following.” He squeezes my thigh as if to punctuate his words.

I turn in the seat and consider my next words. “It’s strange how one event can lead to another that totally blows your life apart. Sometimes in a good way. Sometimes in a not so good way.”

“That is true.” He pauses. “What is really on your mind, sunshine?”

“I wish you would tell me what made you walk away from me so many times. I know it must be painful, but I want you to know I’m here.”

“Thank you for that, my light.”

My light. That is a new nickname and it makes my heart warm.

I tighten my fingers around his. “I’ve lost a lot in the last few days, Rowan. My shop, my freedom. I know the threat of the cops finding me and your son getting his hands on me is a very real danger, but I haven’t been this happy in…ever. I don’t even care about missing my deadline. That’s what I also meant. It’s like a veil has been peeled back. My mother loved flowers and passed that on to me. It grounded me and gave me purpose.” I hold my next thought for a few heartbeats as I watch the city go back.