Page 46 of Poisoned Pawn

“Do you know what it was about?” My suspicion growing even more.

“No idea. Perry’s office is soundproofed. But I saw the two of them through the window shouting at each other. It was heated whatever it was about.”

I search up Mark’s company aware that the longer I stay online the higher the risk even with a VPN. All it would take is for someone to be monitoring me when there is a break in the VPN connection.

“What are you thinking, Carter?”

The page loads, and I click the link for Mark’s company website. “I’m thinking that Perry and Mark were making something other than…” I pause as the page loads with a picture of medical equipment. “Something less legit.”

“Like what though?” Star muses beside me. “Unless he’s making organs to sell on the black market, I’m not sure what else there is.”

“I wouldn’t rule out the idea of that becoming a possibility in the near future, but I doubt Perry was smart enough.”

There’s only one thing other than drugs and skin that makes criminals rich, and that’s guns. Star shivers and gets up.

“That’s a frightening thought,” she says as she walks to the fridge and opens it, looking inside.

“It’ll happen,” I mutter, but I’m too busy focusing on the very strong fucking chance that Perry and Lev were making ghost guns. But who the fuck were they supplying, and how much, if anything, does Pavel know about it?

Star comes back over carrying a can of Coke from the supplies I picked up on the way here. Instead of sitting back next to me, she drops down onto the sofa opposite me, tucking her legs under her. After taking a mouthful, she glances at me before looking down at the can nestled in her hands.

I watch as she trails a finger up the can, colliding with a bead of condensation rolling down the side. My gut tells me this conversation is about to take a direction that’s going to create waves.

“Just ask the damn question, Star.”

Her eyes lift to mine. “Okay,” she says, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. “How did you get your job? I mean, hired killer isn’t exactly high on the help wanted pages.” Sarcasm hangs heavily in her question, and the hypocrisy irritates me.

“Neither does mob boss, but I guess the rules are different for Aidan and Roxanne, huh?” I bite back with a questioning raise of my brows. There’s an element of avoidance in my answer because I don’t want to explain how I became a killer.

“Not the same thing. Aidan was born into the life, and Rox…” she trails off as she realises just how ridiculous her question is.

“What? The good apple turned bad?” I reply flippantly.

“Hey, I fucking resent that,” she snaps, sitting up a little more. A fire lit beneath her arse at me criticising her family. It’s a fair fucking point given that Roxanne used to be a cop and now runs half of London with the Lawler brothers.

“Yeah, and I resent you judging me when you know nothing about me.”

She scoffs back a laugh. “Seriously? That’s your defence?”

I place the iPad on the table in front of me and lean forward. “Not my fucking defence because I don’t need to defend my life or my actions to anyone. Why don’t you ask what’s really on your mind? Ask me again why you’re not dead. Ask me why I didn’t take the money and slit your throat, Star. Fucking ask me I dare you.”

Her silence speaks so loud it’s almost deafening.

“Wanna know what I think? I think you’re scared. Scared to admit that I turn you the fuck on. Scared to admit that what I do doesn’t scare you at all but makes your blood heat and your pussy wet. You’re scared of the truth. And the fucking truth is that I didn’t kill you because you make my dick hard and my dead heart beat again. You make my black soul scarred by death just that little bit fucking lighter. That’s the fucking truth.”

Star’s jaw clenches at my words, her fingers tightening around the can in her hand as her thighs tense, rubbing against one another.

“Wanna know what else I think?” I ask, relaxing back in the chair, revealing the hard outline of my cock through my joggers.

“No, I think you’ve said enough,” she says, but her breathless words say otherwise.

I hook my thumbs under the waistband of my joggers and drag them down. My cock springs free, twitching against my stomach and leaving a bead of precum glistening against my skin. She can’t help a quick look.

“Princess, I haven’t said nearly enough.” I wrap my fingers around my dick, sliding my hand up and down the shaft as she desperately tries not to look again. “I think you wanna taste me. You wanna feel my cock hitting the back of your throat, choking you. Then you wanna slide your pussy down on my cock and ride me until my cum coats the inside walls of that tight as fuck cunt that I now own. How’s that sound, princess?” I ask, giving my dick a hard tug as I watch Star bite her bottom lip, her legs unravelling from under her and giving me a perfect view of her bare pussy, soaked with arousal, as she puts her can of drink on the table.

She’s still pissed, but her need is shoving her anger aside like a piece of trash and trampling all over it. It’s the driving force behind her getting up from the sofa and sauntering over to me, nipples hard beneath her t-shirt. When she reaches me, she bends over, resting her hands on my knees, and brings her mouth to within a fraction of an inch of mine.

“Would a princess take your cock like this,” she whispers, then drops to her knees in front of me. Taking my cock in her hand, she watches me with hooded eyes as she dips her head lower, then runs her tongue up the underside of my dick. Her tongue glides over each barbell, vibrating all the way through me, and I let out a deep groan as she reaches the crown. My deep groan morphs into a gasped breath as she crests the head and pierces my slit with the tip of her tongue before she closes her mouth over me fully and takes me right down to the hilt. My hips buck, and I feel her throat contract as she gags.

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