Page 11 of Sweet Animosity

When I pulled back, her breath came in ragged gasps.

I leaned in and skimmed my lips across hers. “You have two options, beautiful. Use this mouth to answer my questions or suck my cock. Choose.”

As much as I needed answers, in that moment, even at the risk of half of Chicago’s S.W.A.T. team encircling me, I gladly would have surrendered to her mouth.

Her fingernails dug into my shirt as she fisted the material in her efforts to shove me aside.

I didn’t budge.

Her eyes scanned my face. I could practically feel her thinking up a lie.

Finally, she blurted out, “I’m nobody. I was just a temporary assistant to the man in there. I came here to get my last check.”

“How much did you see?”

“Nothing! I swear. I promise. I don’t know anything about what is happening.”

She was lying. She definitely knew more than she was letting on.

The problem was what was I going to do about it?

I couldn’t leave a witness… and I couldn’t kill her.

“Why were you climbing around in the air duct?”

“I saw you and the others entering the office and got scared. I planned to escape but ran in the wrong direction. I was trying to get to the loading dock undetected through the air duct.”

That part at least rang true. Thanks to years of gambling, starting with my misspent youth, I was exceptionally good at reading the tells.

Irrational anger rose inside me. I tightened my fist in her hair as my lip curled. “That was a stupid thing to do. You could have been killed. You’re lucky I was there to catch you.”

Despite her precarious predicament, she huffed and rolled her eyes. “Apparently, you don’t know the correct meaning of the word ‘luck’.”

“I’d say luck was having a beautiful woman with a mouth for sin fall into my lap.”

She blinked several times, staring up at me in silence. Shocking this woman speechless was clearly a Herculean feat to be celebrated.

“Do you know what Abakar was up to?”

Her brow furrowed as she shifted her eyes, as if in thought. Then her gaze returned to me as she squinted. “I’m sorry, who?”

Nice try.

Playing along, I repeated, “Abakar, your employer.”

“Oh!” She nodded as if suddenly understanding. Then, lying with obvious practiced ease, she said, “Yeah, I’m sorry. I never really caught onto his name. The agency I work for just sends me on these jobs and takes care of all the details.”

“Really? I thought you said you were here to pick up your paycheck from Abakar?”

Her gaze lowered.

Busted.

She cleared her throat. “I did?”

My eyebrow arched. “You did.”

She once more grasped the ends of her shirt together, covering her naked breasts. “Yes, well, he was giving me a bonus for a job well done.”

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