Page 114 of Blue Moon

31

TULSA

“Ican handle this.”

Five feet eleven—not six feet as he claimed—of pissed-off Italian American glared at me, and I glared right back. The only worthwhile part of Romeo Serafini was his cock, a fact that annoyed me intensely.

As did the man himself.

“Oh, really? Let’s recap how you’ve done so far… One, your security protocols were poor enough that your big star got kidnapped from her hotel room with her dog. Two, you still don’t know how it happened because your control centre is fritzed. Three, there’s a good chance a member of your not-so-carefully vetted team was involved. Four, the media are gonna be all over this in a couple of hours, no matter how many reporters you threaten. Oh, and this place will be crawling with cops.” I took a step toward the door of Luna’s suite. “Have fun handling it.”

“Fuck.” He ran a hand through already tousled hair. “Why do you have to be such a bitch?”

“You just bring out the worst in me, sweetie.”

“That’s what you said the last two times, Juliet. And yet here you are again.”

“Don’t call me that, stronzo.”

“If you told me your name, I wouldn’t have to.”

He knew Tulsa was a nickname, probably because he’d tried to background-check me and failed miserably. But I refused to give him even a hint about my real identity, which annoyed him to no end.

In short, we couldn’t stand each other.

Priest knew this, but he’d still sent me to assist with the hunt for Luna, the sadist. Although I did feel sorry for the woman. I’d always felt sorry for her, ever since we crossed paths on the pageant circuit—albeit in different age categories—and I saw the way her mother ordered her around.

I didn’t feel sorry for Romeo Serafini. He was a scheming prick who’d brought this on himself.

“Only my friends know my name, and you definitely don’t fall into that category.”

“Really? The last time you were underneath me, you told me you loved my cock.”

“Your cock. Not you.”

He stepped into my space, our chests nearly touching. “We’re one and the same, Jules.”

“Come any closer, and I’ll chop it off and throw the rest of you in the trash.”

I considered kneeing him in the balls but ultimately decided against it. The man did have a magic cock, and as sure as the sun rose in the morning, I’d end up riding it again. I’d slap him, he’d tear off my panties. I’d spit in his face, he’d slam me against the nearest wall. I’d leave bite marks all over his body, he’d make sure I couldn’t walk properly for days.

Damn, I hated this man.

And worse, I hated my lack of self-control around him.

“You won’t do that,” he told me.

“Are you sure?”

“You like my tongue too much.”

To demonstrate, he ran the tip along my jaw, and it took me a full three seconds to shove him so hard he fell onto the couch. Fuck, what was wrong with me?

“We’re looking for Luna, asshole. And if you don’t give us access to everything we need, I’ll personally round up every reporter in Las Vegas and lead them to your doorstep. I’m sure they’d love to hear about your shitty security protocols.”

“There’s confidential information on our network.”

“You think if we wanted that, we wouldn’t have it already? Consider the fact that we don’t a courtesy.”

---