Page 37 of Mob Queen

G comes down the stairs and shakes his head to me. “Have one of the boys come and replace this,” I say as I gesture toward the broken door. G flicks a look of disgust at Miller, but acknowledges my demand with a nod before leaving. “Someone wants you dead.”

“Who?” Miller takes a cautious step backward.

“If it was me, you’d be dead already.”

“Says the unhinged lunatic who kicked down my door.”

I can’t help but smirk. “Unhinged lunatic?” I question.

“Get out of my house.” He points with the wooden spoon.

I roll my eyes closed and rub at the tension spiking across my forehead. I release a caught breath and open my eyes, staring at Miller. He’s moved to the opposite end of the room. “Have you been getting any death threats?”

“of course. I always get them.” His eyes flick to his cell phone as if he’s thinking about making a run for it.

“Don’t be an idiot,” I warn as I walk over to his cell, grab it and hold it in my hand. “Think. Have you had any recent death threats?”

His high shoulders slowly relax until he heads back into his kitchen. I follow him in case he tries anything, like grabbing a knife, or gun and pointing it at me. I’m surprised to find he’s stirring something on the range. “Death threats are part of the territory. They go with the job,” he says as he lifts the wooden spoon that’s now covered in a rich red sauce and brings it to his lips. Damn, the boy can cook.

“Do you have a list of the people who are sending you death threats?”

Jeremy looks over his shoulder at me and shakes his head. “I’m taking care of it,” he spits with disgust.

“With what? Your wooden spoon?” I flick my hand toward him. “What are you cooking?”

“The police are looking into the serious threats.”

“The police are as useless as tits on a fucking bull. By the time they get around to finding who actually wants to hurt you, you’ll be blown up into a million pieces.”

“You paint such a pretty picture.” He adds some spices to the sauce, stirs it and once again brings the wooden spoon to his mouth to taste. His tongue darts across his lower lip, catching some of the residual sauce. “I’ll be fine. Take your heavy and leave.” I walk over to him, look at the pot of red sauce and dunk my finger into it. “How hygienic.” A look of obvious disgust tugs at his lips.

“I’m sure you’ve had worse things in your mouth.” I lick the sauce off my finger and I’m pleasantly surprised to find it tastes okay. “Needs more salt, and some oregano.”

Miller swings around with a hard-set jaw, and growls at me. “Get out of my kitchen.” He steps toward me, making me straighten and pull my shoulders back. “And get out of my house.” He continues to advance toward me, caging me against the kitchen counter. “Now.” His body pushes into mine.

“Or what?” I ask, desperate to know.

“I’ll grab you by the hair and drag you out.”

“Yeah? I’d like to see you try.”

He lifts his hand and laces it into the nape of my neck, his fingers tightening in my hair. “I told you.” Thankfully, Miller has a block of knives within reach, so I dart my hand out and grab the first knife my hand lands on. “You’re crazy.” His fingers tighten as he yanks my head down, causing my neck to curve unnaturally.

I bring the knife up to his neck, pressing the blade against his skin. The shock on his face makes my stomach flutter. His eyes harden but he keeps his intense stare locked onto me. With Miller’s free hand, he grips my waist, making sure to dig his fingertips into my side. I welcome the erotic pain. I bite my lower lip, and his gaze darts to my lips before lifting to once again stare into mine. His body closes tighter against me. “I’m going to start thinking you enjoy our little rendezvous.” I push my tits into his chest. He tightens his fingers in my hair, causing me to gasp with desire.

Miller lowers his head, his lips skimming mine. I could move forward and force him to kiss me, but I have no intention of giving him the satisfaction. I can feel his hard-on pressing into me. My pussy is desperate for his cock, or his mouth. God, I want him to fall to his knees and eat me like he’s devouring his favorite meal. “You need to leave,” he whispers against my lips. His hot breath mingling with mine.

“Do I really?” I challenge while I fight the images of us entwined dancing in my mind.

Instantly, Miller releases my hair and the death grip he had on my waist and takes a step backward. I relax my arm and lower the knife and drop it on the kitchen counter. “You have to leave.” He runs his hand through his thick dark hair. But I can see his breathing has changed, and he’s fighting with himself not to fuck me.

I push off the kitchen counter and straighten. “I need that list of people who want you dead.”

“You’re at the top of it.”

I snort with a condescending laugh. “I told you, if I wanted you dead, you’d already be gone.” I head out of the kitchen and see one of my men is staring at the door G kicked in. “My men are here to fix the door.”

“I don’t need your men doing anything,” the sexy politician replies with a bite.

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