Page 15 of Treason's Temptation
Ward pulled off at my signal, and the streetlights flickered over the windows as we moved through the city. Navie was good. I could see why people were drawn to her. She reclined against the headrest. Her eyes were half-closed as the city blurred by until we arrived at a high-end hotel.
I stepped out and motioned Navie to follow.
“Handle what we talked about earlier,” I said to Ward, hanging on the door.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m in good hands,” I smiled, peering back at Navie.
“I’m on it. Be easy,” he advised, pulling away from the curb.
My arm curled around her shoulders to the top floor. She slid inside, the inner kid in her unable to play coy.
“This is amazing. Do you live here?” She turned with a light in her eyes I hadn’t seen, not at the gala or in the car. It was unguarded, and I let myself enjoy watching her twirl barefoot.
“Nah, but my place is nice too.”
Loosening my tie, I wondered if she had enough magic to make every day feel like this.
“What do you want to eat?” I asked, following her into the bedroom.
“What’s on the menu?”
“Whatever you want.”
She sat on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, eyes soft. “My favorite words. In that case, I want spicy rigatoni with a side of French fries.”
“What the fuck, kind of combination is that?”
“You said I could have whatever I want. Reneging already?”
Fumbling with the clasp on my watch didn’t distract me from her smile. Tired of watching me struggle, she crawled across the bed.
“You need some help?”
She worked the clasp with precision and dropped the watch in my hand. Navie was trouble, but I gripped her chin and kissed her anyway. She wrapped her legs around my waist, tasting like the lie she thought I hadn’t figured out.
My lips moved against hers, slow, deep, and lazy. The kind of kiss that made a woman think she was in control. Navie thrived off that shit, allowing her hips to meet mine.
My lips hovered near hers, “Tonight’s the most fun I’ve had in a while, Navie. I gotta give it to you. You’re good.”
Confusion flickered across her face, because Navie was used to running laps around most nigga’s.
Not getting caught.
“I—what are you?—”
My grip tightened enough to silence the lie. Navie couldn’t move much, but tried anyway. She worked herself up, wiggling and kicking under my weight.
“Let. Me. Go!” she grunted, her pulse knocking against my hand.
“I could fuckin’ kill you right now for that shit you pulled.” I tightened my grip, and she clawed at my hands. “Shouldfuckin’ kill you right now.”
I leaned in and kissed her again. Gentle. Controlled, before pulling back enough to murmur, “But I’m intrigued, and your skin is soft as fuck. So tell me who sent you.”
We were in the thick of campaign season, and I was the only candidate standing in Victor’s way. Wealthy people weren’t above using a beautiful woman like Navie if it preserved power.
“What are you talking about?”
