Page 11 of Stolen By the Bratva King

I give her my most charming smile but she doesn’t buy it. She’s not only attractive, but feisty too. I can only imagine how hot it would be to bend her over this desk, push up her skirt, rip down her panties, open her legs and fuck her right here, right now.

I keep all these thoughts locked away in the vault of my brain with all my other secrets. There’s no point in causing her any more alarm. It won’t get either of us anywhere.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she reminds me, her lips pursing as she stares at me.

“That’s because I’m offended by your question,” I reply, shaking my head.

“So, you’renotpart of the illegal weapons trade?” she asks.

“Did I not just rescue you from a mission of the very sort?” I smirk.

Her jaw twitches. Her lips are beautiful. I want them wrapped around my cock as soon as possible. I lean forward. “I’ll make a deal with you, Hazel Dowers, journalist for the…”

“Freelance at this time,” she says quickly, and I see the lie written on her face.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to tell me who you work for, but youdoneed to meet me in the middle if you want me to help you.”

“I’m listening,” she says in a guarded vice.

I toss an idea at her. “You’re conducting research for your story, yes? I assume that’s why you were at the warehouse that day. I’d love to clear my name, and I think you are just the person who can help me do that.”

She scoffs, unable to hide the cynicism on her face. “Oh really?”

“Yes, really.” I give her a boastful look because I know I’m enticing her. “You want your story, I want my reputation. So, let’s work together. I’ll allow you to shadow me as long as you keep your story anonymous.”

“Meaning what?” Her eyes narrow, but I have her on the line. Now it’s time to reel her in.

I hold her gaze. “Leave my name out of it. If you want to actually make a difference to end the gun trafficking cycle, then stick with me. I’ll help you get what you want, and you help me get whatIwant.”

“And what exactly is that?” she asks.

I stare at her, unblinking, stoic. “An end to the gun trade.”

She chews her bottom lip again and I can practically see the thoughts turning in her head.

“You can follow me around, see what I do.” I stand up and she watches me like a hawk as I come around the desk and sit on it directly in front of her. Her slender legs tense. She doesn’tuncross them. I hear her breath in slowly. The air is thick with tension… Is it sexual? It’s hard to tell yet, but I’m provoking her in some way, and I feel it in the charged energy between us.

“I can tell you one thing for certain,” I say.

“What’s that?” She’s breathless.

“We’re on the same side, you and me.” I stare at her.

“Oh?” Her face flushes. Her chest moves faster with each breath.

I stand and offer a hand to shake. She takes it, confusion tugging her lips into a frown. Her hand is warm and soft, slender fingers, a good, firm grip.

“Think about it. I believe we will make an excellent team,” I add.

“I have to leave your name out of it?” she asks.

“You have to leave my name out of it,” I confirm with a thin smile.

“The public might know it’s you. It’s an even greater chance that law enforcement will, if they read it.”

Is that a veiled threat she’s giving me? I keep my poker face in check. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take if it means putting an end to gun trafficking in this city. I don’t like it just as much as you or anyone else.”

She eyes me, a journalist hunger in her eyes, along with a slice of doubt of what I’m telling her.

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