Page 48 of Ruthless Vengeance
I get to my feet and reach into the inside pocket of my jacket for the envelope of cash. I toss it on the table beside Clara’s folder and my untouched drink.
“Some things are better left in the past.”
I’meager to get back to Clara after my day of back-to-back meetings.
A year ago, I would have thought nothing of coming home to an empty bed, but now I can’t think of anything worse.
It’s just past seven by the time I get home, yet when I walk through the front door, I immediately pause.
It’s unnaturally quiet, which instantly has my heart rate spiking.
"Clara?” My voice echoes around the foyer.
“In the kitchen!”
I breathe.
I shut the door behind me and head into the kitchen to find it empty except for her.
“Where is everyone?”
Clara glances up from setting the table, a small smirk playing on her lips as she looks at me.
"Rosa is upstairs with the girls, and Andre took Lila out for dinner, so…"
“So…” My lips twitch as my mind starts to fill with filthy thoughts.
Her long blonde hair is tied back in a ponytail, and I imagine wrapping it around my hand and tugging hard, exposing the beautiful column of her neck…
"it’s just us.” Her green eyes glaze as if she can read my thoughts.
I cross over to her and wrap an arm around her waist. "Oh, yeah?” I bury my face in her neck. “Then we’d better make the most of it.” I kiss the delicate skin beneath her ear in a way I know drives her wild.
She gasps, her hands moving to my chest to keep herself steady as I continue to kiss her neck. “I made you dinner.”
“I hope it’s you covered in whipped cream.” I press my hardening cock against her stomach.
She squeals. “Your sister is upstairs.”
“She can’t hear us.” I grind against her.
“You are so bad.” She laughs as she tries her best to wiggle out of my hold, but that only makes my cock harder. “I spent hours making you pasta from scratch.”
I stop and really look at her. “You did?”
“Yes, I did, so forgive me if I want to eat before it gets cold.” She bats at my chest.
I grin before leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “You spoil me, Clara Peterson.” I let her go and take a seat at the table. “Are you trying to woo me?”
I take in the lit candles and the bottle of wine.
She dishes up the food. “Is it working?”
“Hell, yeah.” I laugh. “Turns out I’m incredibly easy.”
As Clara sets down a plate of steaming tomato pasta in front of me, I take the opportunity to brush my hand over her lower back.
“This looks incredible, love.” I watch with delight as a pink blush appears on her cheeks.
