Page 54 of Of Desire And Deception

Cosimo owned a variety of books, from mechanics to medical texts, classics to sci-fi. He even had a worn copy of The Art Of War. I ran my fingers across it, thinking of my own copy. On one of the shelves, there were leather-bound books without titles. I pulled one free from its place and flipped it open, finding a page filled with short lines that looked like he’d been writing the number one—or tally marks.

I needed to find my purse and grab my phone so I could take photos. Returning the volume to its place, I spun and froze. There, in the shadows, Cosimo watched me like a predator, his dark eyes gleaming.

He stepped forward, still fully nude, and I shrank back, placing a hand on my chest. “You startled me.”

“What are you doing, goldilocks?” he purred dangerously. “Are you an avid reader?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” I lied. “I thought I’d look for a snack, but then I saw the books, and those looked interesting.”

“Curiosity can be a dangerous endeavor,” he whispered harshly, his bare toes touching mine. “Did you find anything that piqued your interest?”

“No,” I murmured. Goosebumps broke out over my body.

“I see.” Cosimo sounded doubtful, but he slung an arm over my shoulders, pulling me to his side. “Why don’t we see what there is to eat.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” I let out a long, slow breath as he guided me to the kitchen. Disaster averted. But I hadn’t learned anything, either. Except the man standing next to me might fill notebooks with tally marks for some unknown reason.

Cosimo pulled a plate of what looked like leftover cake from the refrigerator and grabbed a fork, spearing a bite and holding it out. “Come to me, goldilocks. I want to give you something sweet.”

My lips curled up, hiding how my mind raced. I opened my mouth and leaned in, wrapping my lips around the fork and moaning as I chewed the decadent chocolate dessert. “So good. More, please.”

The doubt vanished from Cosimo’s gaze, and I knew the coast was clear. I opened my mouth and let my tongue slip past my lips suggestively.

I was still in the game.

Chapter Seventeen

My guest struggled to breathe as he lost his footing, and his weight dropped, putting strain on his shoulders. His gurgled grunts blended with the music flowing through the air, and I hummed as I perused my tools, selecting the fed’s service weapon. It was clean and smelled of fresh gun oil. Probably because the fucker liked polishing his weapon a little too much.

“Stand up,” I snapped, pointing the gun at his head. “Ready for a little chat?”

“Fucking kill me,” the man spat, drawing in a ragged breath. “This is bigger than me or you.”

I rolled my eyes at his bravado. “Yeah, I’ve heard it all before, Agent Bogdan. Tell me, how did the FBI miss your Russian connections?”

“You assume my presence there was unintentional.” His laugh grated on my nerves. “They knew exactly what the fuck they were doing. And you’re too blind to see that you’re already in his crosshairs.”

“Whose crosshairs?” I asked, clenching my jaw as I made a show of examining the Glock.

“Like hell, I’m telling you, you piece of shit psycho.”

“So unoriginal,” I chastised, clicking my tongue. “Maniac. Murderer. Unhinged. Demon. Psycho. At least try to think out of the box a little. I know the government limits your ability to reason past their expectations, but you must have thought for yourself at one time.”

“Your reign is over,” he hissed, his eyes narrowing. “The Neretti name will fade into obscurity, and a new faction will rise to power after they bury every last one of you.”

“Sounds terrifying,” I deadpanned. My finger twitched on the pistol’s trigger. “I’m sure you think you’re building some criminal utopia. I hate to burst your bubble, but I will hunt down every one of you. Your presence in my dungeon is proof that I can do it.”

“You’ll never find him before he takes you out.” Bogdan laughed again, but I heard the hint of desperation in the high-pitched tone. “He’ll probably give the order when he finds me missing.”

“Well, since you love playing the government’s whore, let’s occupy that filthy mouth, hm?” I pistol-whipped him across the face, and when his jaw dropped on a shout of pain, I shoved the gun barrel inside, grasping the back of his head so it hit his throat and gagged him. “Careful fighting, Agent. I wouldn’t want that wayward tongue of yours to pull the trigger accidentally. With how strong your bullshit is, you might have the six pounds of pressure required to end your own life.”

Bogdan’s eyes widened, and I felt his tongue still in his mouth. “Good boy. Now suck that barrel like you’re sucking the government’s dick.”

The man’s eyes watered as I fucked his mouth with his own gun and blood, combined with saliva, trickled from the corners of his mouth. He coughed and sputtered, and I smirked, keeping uncomfortable eye contact with him.

“That gun oil taste like freedom to you, Agent?” I taunted as he sucked. “That front site ripping up your mouth? How does it feel to be fucked over by your loyalty?”

I ignored whatever comeback my guest tried to mutter, yanking the gun free and chipping his front teeth in the process. I wiped the weapon clean on his white dress shirt, leaving pink and red stains behind.

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