Page 92 of Wicked Temptation

“I’m just wondering how she’d feel if I told her some of the shit jobs you did for me back in the day. Like all those guys you put in the hospital 'cause they didn’t pay up, or the fuckin’ guy who took a nosedive off that building on Eighty-Sixth Street. Mmmm, be a real shame if she got freaked out by your former life.”

He’d kept that life from Lisbeth in Brooklyn, and he intended to do the same now.

“Along with a piece of Valley View, I’ll fight, and you’ll get all my winnings.”

Frank cracked his neck, and the two men eyed each other, both knowing whoever talked first was the loser. Seconds turned into minutes, but Samson kept his game face firmly intact.

“Agreed.” Frank motioned to the bartender for the check. “I’ll be in touch.” He flipped out his credit card and pushed it toward the bartender, signaling the meeting was over.

Samson had no doubt Frank would come through with the deal because, unlike Alex Monroe, Frank wasn’t hemmed in by society’s rules. He’d been coloring outside the lines all his life, and his willingness to get down and dirty kept him alive all these years. Frank came up scraping and clawing, and that kind of desperation and drive always won out against privilege and money, which made him much more dangerous than Alex Monroe.

Samson pushed away from the bar, trudged through the lobby, and went back outside. As he waited for his car, the boiling heat he’d ignored earlier began to suffocate him along with how he’d break the news to Nick that Samson was Frank’s slave once again.

30

Samson drove Lisbeth back to her apartment, and after she picked through the debris and took what she needed, the bouncers from the club cleaned up the mess. Lisbeth still couldn’t believe the level of destruction, and she was happy to let these huge men do the heavy lifting under Samson’s direction. After a shopping spree that included a new laptop, daily essentials, and some new clothes, Lisbeth and Samson fell into a routine of sorts.

She found she could work just as efficiently from his penthouse. Willow stepped up to oversee the on-sight jobs, and Evelyn handled her office manager position from her computer at home. While Lisbeth still thought Samson was being overprotective, she wasn’t about to take any chances with her valued employees—their safety came first.

Both women visited the penthouse this last week, duly impressed with the space and Samson. Of course, Willow was immediately entranced, but even Evelyn admitted the other day Samson had a certain charm—high praise seeing how fond she’d been with Edward. Lisbeth had sworn Willow to secrecy about her findings until all this nonsense was ironed out.

Although Samson spent most nights at the club, he made her feel completely at home in the penthouse. They shared breakfast every morning and took rides out to the desert on his Harley before he went to the club at night. Although he acted like everything was normal, she suspected an undercurrent he didn’t share.

Living with him made her see another side of his intricate personality. She learned he was quite neat, which she attributed to his growing up poor, and he had a raging sweet tooth that came alive in the form of full bowls of M&M’s around the penthouse, chocolate-covered everything, and a nightly bowl of ice cream when he returned home from the club at three in the morning. The sex was still off-the-charts hot, but more intimate, taking the time to explore each other’s bodies.

* * *

“Love fuckin’ you, babe.” Samson’s breathless voice rasped in her ear as he fell to her side in the early morning hours of the next day. She’d lost count of how many orgasms she’d had in the last thirty-six hours. Her weak limbs and delicious ache between her legs were the only indicators of the weightless sensation surrounding her body. All the man had to do was touch her, and her nerve endings hummed. A simple act of cradling her head against his shoulder had led them to urgent sex on the back of the couch before Samson scooped her up, and they tumbled onto the bed with him still deep inside her.

“Don’t look so sad. That’s a good thing.”

But was it theonlything? She could see Juliet and Willow rolling their eyes at the question, but it worried Lisbeth. Hot sex didn’t equate to a lasting relationship, which was why some people only had booty calls. Plus, they still had to work through a mountain of issues.

“I’ve pretty much accepted the Monroes wrecked my apartment, but that leads to many other questions.” Lisbeth dove in head first because if they were to move forward, they’d have to address all issues past and present.

Samson propped himself up on his elbow. “Like?”

Was he kidding with this casual attitude? “Like, if someone could do that, then they are capable of any act of violence.”

“No shit, babe, but I think we already covered that when Mamba and Willow gave us the same information about the Monroes.”

“I suppose, but having it hit so close to home makes me worry about what they’ll do next. You already think they were behind the drug raid on your club, and—”

“I don’t think—I know it was them.”

“Okaaay, and that doesn’t concern you?”

“Concern me? No. It makes me wanna do something about it.”

“Now I’m worried because I don’t like how calm you are, as though you’ve already decided about retaliation.”

His muscled arm circled her waist and dragged her on top of him. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

This man used every unfair tactic in the book, including the length and the thickness of his hard cock pressing between her legs. He rotated his hips in a slow grind, and she cursed herself for the low moan that crept up her throat.

“Don’t distract me from the original subject.” Lisbeth tried a stern tone, but it sound more like a murmured plea.

Samson cupped the back of her neck and hauled her lips to his. When he got his fill, he pulled back and whispered, “Damn, you taste so fuckin’ good.”

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