Page 60 of James

“Your cousin has needs, just like everyone else,” he advises.

“Too much information,” I scoff.

“The women here love my accent, too,” Trey adds, wearing a shit-eating grin.

“Of course they do,” I deadpan.

“Aussie women are hot. You never told me that,” he chastises.

I rub my forehead. “Right. I must have forgotten. Just make sure you wrap up your willy, Trey.”

I walk out to the sound of their thundering laughter.

***

Chapter Twenty-Four

James

I get home from my new job as business manager for one of Chase’s new companies, grinding my teeth when I see Tatiana’s cop car parked in my driveway. I have no idea why she'd be here, but luckily Sasha’s not home. She'd probably be getting arrested right now if she was. She gets out of her car when she sees me, shutting the door behind her.

“What are you doing here, Tatiana?” I ask her.

“Just need to talk with you about The Safe House. Will only take a second James, okay?”

I nod and unlock the front door. We walk inside and I tell her to sit at the dining table where we can discuss things.

“What’s the problem? You could have called me, you know,” I tell her. She suddenly stands up to take off her jacket. She drops it to the floor.

She is wearing nothing underneath.

Nothing.

I can’t help it when my gaze roams over the familiar curve of her breast, but its more shock than anything else. I don’t feel anything when I stare at Tatiana. There's no want, no need. I only want Sasha, and that’s never going to change.

I turn around and clear my throat.

“Get dressed. You need to leave, now.” I demand, my voice brokering no argument.

“James,” she purrs, and the sound grates on my nerves.

“Now!” I yell, my fingers clenching into fists. If Sasha walked in right now, there would be no second chance for me. The thought makes me panic.

“Leave. Don’t ever come back, Tatiana,” I say in a lethal tone when she tries to talk to me again.

“Your loss,” she hisses.

She finally leaves, shutting the door behind her, and I lean onto the wall for support, relief taking over my body.

Twenty minutes later, Sasha comes home. Talk about a fucking close call.

“Hey,” she says as she sees me, walking over and giving me a kiss. I grip her hips with my palms and pull her closer to me.

“Hey, you look beautiful,” I tell her. And she does. Tight jeans, showing off the roundness of her ass and a tight black t-shirt.

“Thank you,” she says coyly.

“Where were you?”

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