Page 41 of Gilded Kisses

Smart man. But no. I would go for his gun given the chance.

Years of living amongst criminals and hardened killers, no doubt has his senses tingling. He follows my line of sight and then clamps his arms around me, pinning mine against my sides.

“Bad girl,” he rumbles deep in his chest, and I hear the dark promises of punishment to come. Using his brute force against my slight frame, the mobster pulls me higher up his body and spreads my legs over his lap.

“You two have nothing to say?” I turn wild eyes on his accomplices.

“Enjoying the show,” Mirsha draws and the unmistakable purr in his voice has my insides turning to goo. Against my wishes, of course.

“You have to let me go, eventually.” Like this, my leather pants stretch to the max and I can feel every hard inch of Viper’s cock fighting to be set free.

“Maybe. But not now. I think we can make it home sitting like this. Maybe we can talk about why you are here and why Mirsha thinks it’s okay to keep his brothers in the dark.”

“That sounds like ayouproblem and not aweproblem. I know exactly where I need to be, and it’s not here.” I snap my teeth at him and he dodges my attempt at getting free with a dark chuckle.

“Careful, baby girl. I bite back.”

His words are murmured at the shell of my ear and travel over my body like he’s physically touching every inch of my skin.

I clamp down on my emotions and pull on the twelve steps my therapist listed out for me.

One: Control your breathing.

Easier said than done.

Two. Picture a fire in the center of your chest and let those flames burn away all the chaotic emotions.

Yeah, I could use some matches right now and a Molotov cocktail. Burn this car so they can’t chase me. Burn baby burn!

Three: Let nature’s voice in to hush your anger. Chirping birds, the brush of butterfly wings.

Ahhh fuck this.

Back to basic criminal mode I go. Rule one: Lie until you get what you want.

“I promise to behave,” I offer sweetly. I even slide on a smile and unclench my fists.

His hair has come loose in our exchange to hang softly over his broad shoulders. My fingers itch to feel its softness and let memories take over. I can feel Luther watching us in between navigating us through the streets of New Orleans.

“Sweetness?” he says and the question in his tone lingers in the car’s cabin. He’s asking why I am fighting them.

“Don’t call me that, Luther. I’m not sweet anymore.” There’s more than one way to lose your innocence. I might not have lost my virginity the night they left me, but they took something just as valuable. My trust.

Viper’s steel hold on me loosens and his curious hands roam over my sides to dip down my waist. His warm touch falls over my ass.

His mistake. Years of using the Genesis sparing gym pay off and I perfectly place my right hook.

Viper’s face snaps to the left, his hair whipping around with the sudden jerk.

But the single drop of blood dripping from the crack in his lip doesn’t make me feel any better. Acid gurgles deep in the pit of my stomach.

He slowly turns his head and looks me dead in the eyes. Hurt glitters in those amber depths, but instead of lashing out, my torturer easily recaptures my hands.

He looks at my knuckles. His blood smears over my skin. A little flexing and I can feel I’ll be bruised by morning. “Stop hurting yourself, or I’ll have Mirsha use the rope in the trunk.”

I nearly fall off his lap.

“Not a bad idea,” Luther says and I turn to level a flat, narrowed look at him through the rearview.

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