Page 119 of Property of Rattler

“Twelve,” counters Prez.

“Fifteen,” Volkov snaps. “And I leave here and you’ll never hear from me again. Unless,” a crooked grin crosses his face, “you like gambling in my casino.”

Prez steps forward, his hand outstretched. “Fifteen,” he agrees.

“Pizdets,” he snarls. Then he accepts Prez’s handshake. “You give money as soon as possible, or I will come end you.”

Then, without saying anything more, he turns, waves at his men who collect their weapons while the Kings all have theirs trained on them.

When they’ve gone, I raise my head. “What did he call us?”

“Something insulting, I expect.”

“Nah,” says Genie, waving his phone. “As long as I translated it correctly, he called this a completely fucked-up situation.”

Saint barks a laugh. “It is, for him. For us? It’s a cool extra five thousand dollars home free.” We’d have settled on giving him the whole twenty if it had got him off our backs.

“And,” Prez gives an uncharacteristic grin at me. “You’ve got the girl. I’d call that a win.” He turns away from me. “VP? That video? Your woman’s a fuckin’ genius. Got to say I’m fuckin’ glad she’s on our side.”

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

JAYNE

“Sit on my face.”

“What? No. I can’t. Your legs.”

“Not asking you to sit on my legs, A…Jayne.” He snorted a laugh.

“It’s…wrong” I shuddered. Naïve as I am, I know exactly what he’s suggesting. The thought of his mouth touching me there feels dirty, especially the position he’s suggested. Though the way my stomach clenched and my core throbbed, my mind seemed to be at odds with my body.

“It will be fuckin’ amazing. Come on, you sucked me off.”

I had. And it hadn’t been disgusting at all. But when I’d thought about a man going down on me, I’d always imagined I’d be on my back, or at least for the first time. This felt too adventurous.

“Jayne,” he said persuasively, “Just try it. It kills me I can’t touch you the way I want, but my legs are going to take time to heal.”

“And you keep fucking up your shoulder by doing too much,” I berated him. It annoyed me that he was trying to rushhis progress, rather than letting time take its course. Bronwyn swore when she’d seen it reddened and swollen, when it should have been well on the way to healing.

“You won’t be sitting on my shoulder either. Come up ‘ere, Jayne. Place your knees on either side of my head, and balance yourself against the headboard. Or are you too much of a coward to try?” He raised a brow.

“You didn’t call me a coward when I was pointing a gun at you. I wish I had one now,” I grumbled.

His eyes widened, “You’d rather shoot me than let me give you head?”

Cunningly I tried to bargain. “How about I give you another blow job instead?”

“Fuck woman, never thought I’d turn down you sucking me off. But babe, tonight’s about you and not me.”

Wincing, I tried to explain, “It seems so clinical, you just giving me instructions, rather than it just happening …”

“Babe,” he interrupted. “If I had two working arms, I’d put you exactly where I want to.” He changed tack, and his demand. “Kiss me.”

Now that I could do. I leaned forward, as always, losing myself the moment our lips touched. It was like there was an electric current arcing from his mouth straight down to my clit as our tongues met and slid together. His hand twisted into my now too-short hair, but he still made the most of it, able to grip enough to make my scalp tingle. Until I met Flynn, I hadn’t realised the skin on my head was an erogenous zone, I’d quickly come to know that it was, even though he’s not got much to hold on to. Cutting my hair was a price I decided to pay for changing my looks as well as my identity. Now I’ve got a crop of tight curls. It’s led to a new nickname.

And, oh fuck, he used it now, breaking the kiss just to tell me, “Come on, Pixie Girl.” Then he closed his lips on mine onceagain, not letting up, showing no mercy. I started to writhe against him, my now heated body needing relief, but carefully, so I wouldn’t hurt him.

The bastard knew what he was doing. He’d amped my arousal up to a point where I needed to give in, or retreat to the bathroom to finish the job myself. This time it was me who ended the kiss.