Page 12 of Queen of Spades

I barely hear a word she says because goddamn.

She is truly magnificent.

It’s a totally inappropriate time for my cock to get rock-hard, but here we are.

I really fucking dig her a little violent.

“Let me give you a little piece of advice. Don’t put your hands on an unwilling woman,” Annika says, her tone lined in annoyance. “You never know when you’ll be swinging outside of your weight class.”

I can barely see from here, but I believe she digs the blade into the man’s throat.

Just a little.

He yelps, staggering back, and she scoffs. She begins backing away, watching him the entire way. She heads off toward the elevator for the parking garage, and once she’s safely inside, I make my move.

This asshole and I have a few things to discuss.

I was originally planning on fucking up the guy a little, but that dickwad didn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.

Oh well, we’ll see how he regrets his actions after a few weeks.

I shove my key into the bottom lock on the door to get into Annika’s apartment, but some asshole comes out as I’m trying to head in. He’s wasted and staggering, which isn’t unusual for the guys I run into when I let myself in late at night.

Once he’s out the door, I lock the top and bottom.

“Grady,” Lyra purrs.

A shiver of revulsion slides down my spine.

I still paste on a happy-go-lucky smile, spinning around to find Annika’s roommate stretched out naked on the couch.

“Lyra,” I say, taking off for Anni’s room. “Looking as beautiful as ever.” I wink, ignoring the lines of blow on the coffee table.

“She’s already asleep. Why don’t you join me?” she asks as her face twists into a predatory smile.

“Nah, I’m beat. I’m just going to crawl into bed and snuggle with my omega.” I force myself to continue smiling.

I didn’t dislike Lyra back when we first met, but she’s really started to piss me off in the last six months or so.

I’ve got no problem with sex workers.

Hell, I used to be one.

Or rather, Grady Wells did.

It would be mighty hypocritical of me to judge her for making a living.

And I don’t.

Not most sex workers, anyway, but the fact she uses their apartment to meet her customers rubs me all kinds of wrong.

Mainly because it puts Annika at risk, but again, my girl is stubborn.

I’ve had to be careful in how I approach the subject.

“Come on.” Lyra pats the couch. “It’s still early.”

I chuckle, palming my keys. “You have yourself a good night.” This is not the first time we’ve had a similar uncomfortable conversation. I think it’s about time I mention it to my omega.

---