Page 48 of Sweet Animosity

She was smart and feisty with the mouth of a sailor. I didn’t know many women, outside of my friends’ wives, who’d have the balls to stroll into an infamous gambling den, demanding a job.

The fact was she gave as good as she got, and holy hell, was the giving good.

The two times I’d been with her had been the best sex of my life.

All that fire, defiance, and anger. She truly was a wild filly who needed taming, but not too much.

Unfortunately, all those qualities that were drawing me to her like a moth to a flame were also what made her a terrible liability. My friends would be within their rights to demand something be done about her.

I rubbed my hand over my jaw. “It’s complicated.”

Vaska leaned his forearms on his thighs as he wiped the sweat from his face. “What’s complicated? I thought we agreed we couldn’t have her in Chicago.”

I nodded. “We did.”

“So, is there a reason you were playing slap and tickle with her yesterday at the Four Monks?”

This will not be pretty.

I covered my mouth with my hand as I muttered, “She didn’t get on the plane.”

Anton raised an eyebrow as Ivan leaned forward. “What was that?”

“She didn’t get on the plane, alright? I dropped her off at O’Hare with the money, and she didn’t get on the freaking plane.”

Maxim sat up. “Let me get this straight. You went to her apartment to scare the crap out of her so she’d leave the US. Instead, you fucked her brains out. And she’s not only still in the US but in Chicago? That’s one magic dick, my friend.”

I flipped him the bird.

Besides, it was the other way around.

I couldn’t get enough of Vivian. Her pussy was so tight and sweet. Her breasts were what men’s wet dreams were made of, and that mouth… my cock hardened at just the idea of slipping inside its wet warmth.

I was entranced in a way I’d never experienced with any other woman. I didn’t just want to fuck her.

I wanted to know everything about her.

I wanted to be around her every minute, so I didn’t miss a single snarky bit of sass that fell from those crimson lips. I wanted to know what her favorite food was so I could feed it to her naked in bed. I wanted to see what she was like drunk and how beautiful she looked in the morning with no makeup on. I wanted to see her face when I bought her a designer purse for her obvious, unhealthy addiction.

I wanted it all from her.

Vaska stretched out his arm and pointed. “Don’t forget inside the Four Monks today. Are you sure she wasn’t wired?”

My lips twisted. “I’m sure.”

“You checked.”

“Thoroughly.”

Ivan leaned back. “Is she at least giving us intel? Have you found the forger fucking up our money laundering streams?”

“No and no,” I responded with certainty.

Maxim swiped a towel over his chest. “Well, we have the Mona Lisas. If they had gotten into the black market, that would have been a clusterfuck.”

I nodded. “Exactly. They are secure at the Four Monks. Serg is trying to track down who owns the original, so we can tell them to call off the scheme.”

In the meantime, a few more forgeries that I was certain were from the same artist had raised eyebrows at another international auction with their final price tag. Usually, the art was only just good enough to maybe be an unknown masterpiece, which kept the bidding muted. Then a pre-arranged buyer would bid with filthy money, and the fraudulent seller would return the squeaky-clean money.

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