Page 115 of Forbidden Confessions: Vol. 2
I snap. I know I should let her struggle for the camera, but it’s bugging the hell out of me. “I’m trying to help you.”
“By mauling me?”
“By marking you as mine. Unless you want me to leave you to the mercy of Sal, Rudy, and Paulie, none of whom will hesitate to rape you? Your call. Me or them.”
She swallows and searches my face, her blue eyes dilated with fear. I see the pulse beating at her neck. “They’re really mobsters?”
“Yep. And they’re really running a sex ring that you and your cousin are about to get swept into, unless you play along.”
She hesitates, searching my face like she’s looking for answers. “I don’t like you. And I still don’t trust you.”
“But better the devil you know?”
“Something like that.”
“Excellent. So we’re on the same page? We’re going to fuck now. For the cameras.” That’s not the only reason…but best not to mention that.
“Fine.” She grumbles. “But be quick.”
Good thing I have a healthy ego, but I still can’t help needling her. “You don’t sound too happy. I don’t know why. You weren’t shy about telling me how much you liked it the first time. Or the second. Or the third…”
In fact, Ransom was in the room next to hers that night, and he complained the following morning that Kristi had been too loud for him to get a lick of sleep.
“Because you’re an arrogant, dismissive, assholish?—”
“I get the picture. Tell you what. Why don’t you just take your anger out on me? You should enjoy that, and it will look convincing for whoever’s watching.” Then I’ll leave here and make it clear to everyone that Kristi is mine while I look for Sammie and search Paulie’s room in the basement. But even if I find Kristi’s cousin, I have to figure out how I’ll get the two of them out of the hotel without blowing my cover or losing all the goodwill I’ve spent years earning from Donzelli.
“There’s no way I’m just going to roll over and give you my…” She bites her lip.
“Pussy?”
Her lips purse. “Among other things. I’m going to fight every minute of this.”
“You do that.” And I’ll do what I need to.
I slide one hand under her and find the thin strap bisecting her back and the lone clasp doing the yeoman’s work of securing her luscious breasts in their cups. With a flick of my fingers, I unhook it.
She gasps. Obviously, she wasn’t expecting that.
And as much as I hate to share her with any of the perverts watching us on camera, I don’t see a way around it. So I ignore the surveillance and focus on my woman.
She glares at me. “You’re way too good at that.”
That’s not why she’s mad. “Are you pissed at me because I didn’t call you after that night? Or because you decided to hate me in the last nine weeks, but your body didn’t get the memo?” I shove her bra up, exposing her tits, and drag my thumb across the dead giveaway of her stiff nipple.
“I’m not aroused. It’s cold in here.”
“Bullshit.” It’s been pushing eighty degrees in Vegas most of the week, and there’s no air conditioning piping into these eighth-floor rooms. “You like it.”
“I do not.”
“And you like me.” I pinch the hard tip.
Her body jolts and her breath catches. “You’re wrong.”
“You’re a liar.” I let go of her pinned wrists just long enough to grab her shirt and bra in my fists, then jerk them over her head, leaving her bare from the waist up. “God, you’re as fucking pretty as I remember.”
Kristi shoves at my shoulders. “Get your hands off me!”
