Page 46 of Shark’s Edge

“Fuck. Fuck, yes.” I rutted harder while we kissed, simulating thrusting into her heat.

I worked the button of her jeans with my fingers. I needed to feel her dampness on my fingers and lips. I needed to taste her.

And then a cell phone rang. Her damn cell phone rang from where it sat on the island by the grill.

“No. No way,” I gritted against her lips.

She chuckled in response and then let out a heavy sigh.

“No. Seriously?” I grated.

“Let me just get rid of whoever it is. My father is getting up there in age—”

I backed away immediately. I’d never forgive myself if I were the reason she didn’t respond to an emergency.

She answered the call while walking back toward where we’d been going at it. “Abstract Catering. This is Abbigail.”

Who the hell would be calling her business number at this hour?

“Oh, yes! Hello, Mr. Blake.”

Blake? As in Viktor Blake?

But how many Blakes must live in Los Angeles? I was acting ridiculous and testy because I had a goddamn hard-on I could break wood boards with like at a martial arts demonstration.

Thoughts banged in my skull, and I wanted to rip the phone from her hand and chuck it into the fire pit.

“Oh, no, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. How can I help you?” Abbi said to the caller.

No, he should totally worry about it.

“Hmmm, yes, that is quite a pickle. You’re right. No, we can totally help you out. How many are you expecting? Fifty? No problem. What time do you need service set up by? Eleven. All right, no worries. Will the usual assortment work? And what about drinks? Yes, mm-hmm. Okay, yes. No, no worries at all. Oh, you’re welcome, Mr. Blake.” Then she giggled.

Fucking giggled.

“Fine, I’ll call you Viktor. Okay, see you tomorrow, then. And thank you for the opportunity. Bye.”

Red.

A bloodred haze settled over my backyard, and I physically blinked my eyes two or three times to clear the strange film that toyed with my vision. I wanted to tear something or someone apart with my bare hands.

Not that it was Abbigail’s fault. She didn’t have a clue that I hated that man. Viktor Blake. Bastard. How dare he call her while she was at my house? I was seconds from having my mouth on her pussy.

Goddamn asshole.

Talk about a mood killer.

“I’m so sorry about that. Now, where were we?” She reached her hands forward to stroke my chest. I grabbed them, stopping any chance of us picking up where we left off.

“Maybe it’s time to call it a night. If you need a ride because of the wine, I’d be happy to have my driver take you. One of my security team can follow in your car.”

She winced.

My tone sounded curt even to my ears. It couldn’t be helped. That phone call was the equivalent of a bucket of ice water down my pants.

Again, not that she knew any of the history between Viktor Blake and me. Nor was I about to share it with her. She’d already heard enough of my history for one night.

For one lifetime.