Page 32 of Possession

Boz is sitting behind the desk again, glaring at whoever is talking to him.

Or, talking at him.

He’s in his usual dress of business casual, sans the sport coat. His steel-blue dress shirt fits him to a T, and the top two buttons are loose. It’s paired with crisp trousers the color of a stormy night. If I didn’t know he was running the North American side of a drug cartel and that he threatens dinner guests with a drawn gun, I’d think he stepped off the cover of GQ.

And then there’s the fresh scar that’s hidden beneath his expensive dress clothes. I really want to know what that’s about.

His dark eyes flit to me. He holds a finger up to silence the angry voice that’s escalating by the second as he takes me in slowly from head to toe. He glances across the desk and back to me. “Come here.”

A demand.

I glance down at myself before shaking my head.

He swivels in his chair and widens his legs as he holds out a hand. “Baby. Come here.”

The air whooshes from my lungs. It’s the second time he’s used that term of affection.

Yes, I’m keeping track.

Aside fromchica, which rarely feels affectionate, my name has been bitten out in irritation, but that’s it.

I pull my robe tighter around me and step into his office.

But I stop in my tracks when the man on the other side of the desk comes into view.

Holy shit. It’s Nic.

Nic from our wedding.

Or should I say, Nic, the man who was dragged from our wedding because he threw a fit he wasn’t the one marrying me.

Nic Decker looks like he could be the same age as Boz. But unlike my husband who is scary in the way he’s willing to pull a gun at dinner because someone was crass about his new wife, Nic is menacing in a whole other way.

His lecherous eyes make me feel more exposed than I already am. I’m wearing a matching silk shorts and cami set beneath the thin robe. My arms tighten around my chest as I shuffle back a step toward our bedroom.

Nic’s head tips an inch, and I don’t miss his hand balling into a tight fist on the arm of his chair.

“Landyn.”

My gaze darts to my husband.

“Come.”

All of a sudden, I want nothing more than to be close to Boz with this guy around. I don’t hesitate and move across the large room on bare feet to him. When my hand finds his, he pulls me between his open thighs.

But he doesn’t stop there.

He pulls me to him until my ass is perched on his thick thigh. One arm rounds me as the other clamps down on the outside of my thigh.

My eyes widen, and my hands come to his chest when he gives me a good yank.

I’m pressed to him.

Everywhere.

From the bulge between his legs to his hand that slides down to my ass, finding a home there where he cups me and holds me tight.

His warm eyes roam my features before they settle back on mine. “How did you sleep?”

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