Page 60 of Devious Kingpin
She let out an incredulous breath. “But you don’t even know me.”
A sardonic breath left me. “I’ve known you for two years at least, Juliette. You’re the longest relationship I’ve had with a woman.”
Not to mention that I’d met her first when she was thirteen. Of course, I never thought that I’d fall for that same girl once she grew into this stunning woman. I wanted her to wantmelike I wanted her. To needmelike I needed her.
She rolled her eyes and my lips twisted into a smile.
“We didn’t have a relationship,” she breathed, though her cheeks were slightly flushed. “We know nothing about each other.”
I could have laughed, though I wasn’t amused at all. She was right. For the past two years, our interactions had been limited. Most of the time, it ended with the two of us bickering. But I made it my mission during that time to learn everything about this girl.
Everything.
Her favorite color. Her favorite foods. Her reading selection. Her favorite flowers. Her bucket list.
Yes, she had a damn bucket list on Pinterest and I stalked it. I hadn’t touched another woman since this wildling bumped into me and proceeded to seduce me. All the years between us and she practically had me wrapped around her finger.
But Juliette’s favorite activity—and by default mine—was the St. Jean d’Arc School project. A school for our future generations. She and her friends started stealing to fund their idea. Their goal was to establish a school for children, including girls, of the underworld families.
Heat crawled beneath my skin, and suddenly, I wished I’d worn a T-shirt despite the freezing temperatures. I reached for my spare cigarette I always kept on me for emergencies and put it between my lips.
Bottom line was that my wife, Juliette Brennan, newly DiLustro, unsettled me. We’d shared barely a kiss, the groping she subjected me to while under the influence of drugs didn’t count—hardly even qualified for a grade-school relationship and she fucking unsettled me.
I leaned against the chair, locking gazes with her shining blue eyes. She thought she got me, but in the end, I’d get her. Under me. On top of me. Beside me.
All the fucking positions. Doggy style. Spooning. Rocking horse. Missionary.
I couldn’t fucking wait.
“Ask me anything,” I offered.
She snickered. “If you think I’ll offer the same, you’re delusional.”
I smiled confidently. “I already know everything about you.”
Her eyes narrowed to slits. “No, you don’t.”
“Then test me, Wildling.” Her eyes flashed in annoyance at the nickname. She hated it; I fucking loved it. Juliette was wild, through and through. “Unless you’re worried.”
She blew a frustrated breath. “Fine. What’s my favorite color?”
“Yellow.” Surprise crossed her expression. “Because it reminds you of sunshine and you believe it looks best on you, but you’re wrong.” She narrowed her eyes, and before she could say anything, I added, “Every color looks great on you.”
It was the truth. She always looked breathtaking. Her eyes always sparkled, but when she wore yellow, somehow her eyes turned even brighter. Like the sun against the blue sea.
“Flirt,” she muttered.
“What is my favorite color?” I asked her though I was certain she didn’t know.
A heartbeat passed. “Black?”
I rolled my eyes. “Why black?”
She blinked her eyes innocently. “Like a DiLustro’s soul,” she answered, keeping her tone soft but having a hard time keeping her face straight. It was best I didn’t comment on it.
I shook my head. “Wrong. Want to try again?”
She waved her hand in exasperation. “Just tell me.”
