Page 67 of His Deadly Lies

When was the last time I’d buried myself in a sweet cunt?

They were all willing. But they were not all the same. And it’s been too long.

I make it back to the Balestra compound in record time, a little shocked when the guards at the front gate allow me entry without so much as a word from their boss. Looks like I have my all-access pass.

Arm out the window, I take the car up the winding drive toward the circular asphalt in front of the house. It’s perfect here. Money will do that for you. Money can do anything if you’ve got enough of it.

What does Mia think about this palace?

Has she accepted the confines of her cage as easily as she accepted the marriage proposal? Or does it start to chafe at her?

I scrub a hand over my lower jaw and wonder if I should have taken the time to shave before coming back.

Unwilling to fuck around any longer and having had time to cultivate a plan on my way here, I stalk inside and find Mia in a small sunlit library slash parlor. She looks up from her position, curled cat-like in a chair.

“Someone's as fresh as a daisy,” she comments.

“If you’re done with your fairy tales, Miss Balestra, then it’s time for us to get our asses in gear.” I watch her expression closely, noting the way her eyes widen despite her guardedness. “I figure there’s no way on god’s green earth you’re staying behind, and there’s no way I’m not checking out those warehouses.”

Her face lights. “About fucking time, Carter.”

“I’m willing to bet money you have not dispatched any of your men to do it for you.” I slide my hands into the back pockets of my jeans. “I bet you haven't even told Daddy what you suspect yet.”

The way she staves off a grin tells me I’m right.

“You waited for me?” I can't help but ask.

She huffs out a sigh and unfolds herself, stretching her arms overhead while I’m captivated by the small movements of her toes against the bare wood floor. Painted nails. Pink. I want to suck each one into my mouth and fuck me but I’m not a feet guy.

She’s changed her clothes as well, going for a black jumpsuit that hugs her curves and looks like it’s made out of some delectable Lycra spandex.

“I wouldn't call it waiting,” she clarifies. “More like I’ve used this time to carefully peruse my intel. See if there is any kind of pattern I’ve missed that might help narrow our direction even slightly.”

“And?” I press. “Anything?”

She saunters past me, deliberately swinging her hips to full effect, knowing I’ll follow. She’s the siren, and I’m a walking hard-on. “I’ll tell you on the way,” she replies tauntingly. “We’ll have plenty of time with the way you drive.”

“Bitch,” I mutter good-naturedly under my breath.

Mia tosses me a look over her shoulder. “Old fart.”

We understand each other.

19

MIA

We’re just out of sight of the house when Carter grabs me, shoving me against the wall and forcing my lips open with his tongue. I gladly relax for him, our tongues sliding together, his kiss rough and claiming and enough to send a wave of wetness right to my core. If he didn’t pull away, I might have let him slide the zipper of the jumpsuit lower and creep his hand from the front of my breast to capture the entire thing. And lower.

Everything.

Whatever he wants, he can have.

The decision is split second, and it seems to me once it’s made, there is no changing my mind.

I want Carter.

And whatever happens in the future, I plan to have him.

---