Page 73 of Savage Heart

Danil, gritting his teeth to keep from snapping about the bastard coming into his office uninvited, rose to his feet and stuck out his hand in greeting instead. He only had to put on a show of deference a little longer—just a few more days, if what Sonny planned for tomorrow ran flawlessly.

Leonid looked down at the proffered hand like it was covered in shit, curling his lip.

Dark brown eyes meeting Danil’s, Leonid sneered, “Well, Danil, your ignorance and incompetence have got me here, now, explain yourself. And if I don’t like the answers, I’ll scatter pieces of your body all over Nevada, with a smile on my face.”

Liz slotted the last plate into the dishwasher, closed it, then hit the START button. Sighing, she planted her hands against the counter, thankful for a moment to think. She was grateful that Erika had asked Trouble to put her to bed, because Liz needed a few fucking minutes to get her thoughts in order.

Amelia had sent the picture. Trouble had been adamant that he hadn’t touched the skank since Liz’s attack…and…shebelievedhim. Fuck. She believed him.

Groaning, she rubbed the spot between her eyes, cursing at herself. After all the asshole had done, the heartbreak and years of struggle she’d endured because of his fuckery…she’d learned to trust him. The man he’d been back then, in the beginning, had been a man of honor, who’d fought for his country, was loyal to his brothers in arms and leather, and had been…good to her. The man who’d hurt her in that bar…was not the man she’d fallen in love with. He’d become someone else in order to push her away. She knew that now. The man Trouble was now…the man Tessa, Fae, Skathi, and their men had told her about…was a different animal in the same skin.

And she trusted him—with her life and their daughter’s.

It’s time to trust him with other things as well…right?

Ugh!

So, no, Amelia’s little trick hadn’t worked, butsomethinghad happened, because Trouble’s “shit” when he walked through the door, and the look of wariness on his face told her that something had. And he was going to fucking tell her about it, or she was going to tear out his larynx.

So much for “do no harm….”

She snickered at that, and nearly shot through the roof when a voice whispered against the back of her neck.

“What’s so funny?”

Spinning, she nearly smacked Trouble’s nose with her own—he’d been that close to her.

“Fucking shit, Trouble,” she snapped, pressing a hand to her racing heart, “wear a goddamn bell!”

Trouble chuckled, smirking. Not even bothering to take a step back and give her space, he crossed his arms over his chest, putting all the forearm porn right in her face. Thick, veiny, and totally drool-worthy—just like his cock.

Fuck! Focus, slut!

Ignoring his question about her moment of humor, she pinned him with her nastiest glare, and demanded, “What was the shit you had to deal with at the clubhouse?”

Not surprisingly, he didn’t look surprised at her question, but his smirk fell off his face as he sighed. He took a step into her space, and she took a step back, only succeeded in trapping herself against the counter. Trouble took advantage, planting his hands on each side of her, his beautifully sculpted chest pressed against hers, his muscular arms on either side of her, like brackets made of wet dreams.

Focus!

Trouble bent down, brushing his lips over her forehead. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, as if he were savoring their closeness, and when they opened again, there was a tenderness there that sucked the breath from her body.

“I’d gone to the clubhouse to talk with Odin about club business,” he began, and she rolled her eyes. Of course,club business—business that was none of hers, though she had a suspicion it had something to do with the Russians. He cocked a smile at her, his eyes dancing. “I’ll tell you when you need to know, Skizzy. I promise.” She huffed. On impulse, she moved to cross her own arms, but as close as he was, she only ended up slapping her hands against his chest. Where they stayed. He dropped his head, his gaze taking in the sight of her hands on him, and he growled, the sound vibrating through her palms, right to her clit.

Motherfucking hell! How was one sound enough to make her nearly orgasm?

“I can’t tell you how much I miss having your hands on me, baby, but I got to get through this before I can take you to bed and fuck you so hard you can’t walk for a week.”

She gasped, her body catching fire.

She had no idea why her mouth started moving or why it said, “I miss your hands on me, too.”

Something fierce and hungry flashed through Trouble’s eyes before he slammed his mouth down on hers, stealing her breath, and capturing her lips with his. Groaning, she slid her hands up his chest, around his neck, to thread her fingers through his hair, making him groan in return.

Fuck, she missed this.

Opening her mouth, she invited him in, and he fucking pillaged, marauded, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, ravishing her, deepening the kiss, and pressing his throbbing cock against her belly.

Gasping in shock, then moaning in need, she pressed her lower half against him, needing friction.

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