Page 34 of Dangerous Seduction

Man, I’d take my sweet time undressing her, teasing her like a fucking master of foreplay. I’d kiss and nibble my way down her neck, her breasts, and her stomach until she was a quivering mess. And then... then I’d dive in. I’d taste her like she was a goddamn ice cream cone on a sweltering day, savoring every inch of her silky skin. She’d be moaning, begging for more, and I’d give it to her.

I’d slam her against a tree or lay her down on the soft grass. Either way, I’d be inside her, our bodies grinding like they were made for each other, losing ourselves in a frenzy, our moans drowned out by the ocean waves as we fucked like animals in heat, our passion as old as time itself.

I was snapped out of my daydream by the shrill ringing of my phone, interrupting my X-rated thoughts. I lunged for the device, nearly knocking over a stack of papers in the process. Clearing my throat, I answered, striving for a professional tone.

“Dante here,” I said, my voice edged with irritation at the interruption.

“Boss, it’s Marco,” came the familiar gravelly voice. “We’ve got a fucking situation. It’s Raul.”

Fuck. I didn’t have time for more of Raul’s bullshit. Shooting an apologetic look at Sofia, I said, “Duty calls, sis. Sorry, but I need to handle this.”

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and stood up. “Fine. I’ll catch up with you later.” With a playful wave, she strolled out of my room.

I turned my attention back to Marco, my voice clipped. “What’s the issue now?”

“The fifty kilos weren’t at the drop point, boss. That son of a bitch Raul must be trying to renegotiate our deal again.” Marco’s voice was tight with frustration.

A surge of anger coursed through me, chasing away the last remnants of my desire-fueled haze. “The hell he thinks he’s doing? We had a clear agreement with those Colombians.”

“I know, Dante. But the coke wasn’t there. Raul’s playing games.” Marco’s tone was weary, reflecting the weight of our shared frustration.

I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to smash something. That greedy Colombian bastard was pushing us, testing our limits. “And the payment we made? Gone too?”

“All of it, boss,” Marco sighed. “What’s your call?”

I began pacing the length of my room. There was only one way to handle this. Raul needed to be put in his place, once and for all.

“I’m coming back to Miami,” I growled, my voice laced with determination. “Let’s pay Raul a visit and teach him some manners.”

Marco didn’t argue. He knew better than to try and change my mind once it was set. “Understood, boss. I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”

I ended the call, my finger hovering over the ‘end’ button a moment longer than necessary, my jaw clenched so tight it throbbed. This wasn’t just about money or power; it was about respect. I’d be damned if I let some cocky Colombian punk like Raul Moreno disrespect me and the Reyes name.

It was time to remind that lowlife exactly who he was dealing with.

The Escalade tore through the streets, my knuckles white as I gripped the steering wheel, anger coursing through me.

“Easy, Dante,” Marco cautioned from the passenger seat, his voice a rumble. “We need to keep our heads straight, man.”

I shot him a withering glare, my jaw clenched tight. “That snake Raul is trying to play us, Marco. I just know it.”

Marco nodded, a grim look on his face. “I hear you, boss. But we have to be smart about this. Charging in half-cocked ain’t going to do us any favors.”

I knew he was right, but the rage burning inside me was damn near blinding.

When we arrived at the warehouse for the meeting, I expected a heavy confrontation with Raul over the missing shipment. I hadn’t anticipated that Raul would insist he’d already handed over the product to one of my men.

“Dante, I swear on my mother’s grave, I gave the shipment to your guy,” Raul said, his voice steady despite the sweat beading on his brow.

At first, I thought he was full of shit, trying to weasel his way out of our deal with some lame excuse. I stepped closer, my eyes narrowing as I searched his face for any sign of deceit. “You expect me to believe that? You think I’m some fool, Raul?”

Raul held up his hands. “I’m telling you the truth, Dante. I wouldn’t dare cross you. This isn’t on me.”

The more he spoke, the more it became clear that we had been played—and Javier Cruz was the only one with the audacity and resources to pull off such a daring scheme.

“Cruz,” I spat, the name leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. “That sneaky bastard.”

Marco’s eyes widened as realization dawned on him. “He must have someone on the inside who knew our protocols and had access to our credentials.”

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