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I excel at the impossible.
So I breathe through my nose and force a nod. “Of course, baby.”
Her nostrils quiver at my low, deep response. Her beautiful lashes flicker rapidly before she turns the page in her notebook.
“In the court transcript, you say you were misled by your co-conspirators. Is that true?”
My fingers dig into the chair. “I’m not a liar, little girl.”
Her eyes flash, but this time the awareness is more pronounced, the connection a touch deeper. “But these were men you’d known for years.”
Bitterness surges into my throat. “Goes to show people are never what they seem.”
“Are you what you seem, Mr. Monroe?” she asks softly.
“You have my word that what you see is what you get with me, baby. And it’s just Monroe. Don’t let me remind you again,” I warn just as softly.
The naked intent is present in my voice. She hears it.
And her pulse starts racing like mad.
Jesus fuck, I want to lick that fluttering spot in her throat. To tongue the skin where her lifeblood surges from her unguarded reaction to me. Then keep going until I’ve tasted her everywhere.
“Do you believe that the end justifies the means? That your plan to…liberate funds for the widows from the bank that was fleecing them was the right thing to do?”
“The plan was to talk to them, make them see how badly they were hurting the families. Not to use the bullshit loopholes to make veteran families homeless. Throw around a few threats and yeah, knock a few heads together if necessary. That part, I’d do again in a heartbeat.”
Her eyes widened. “So you’re not remorseful about your actions?”
“My only regret was that it didn’t go the way it was supposed to. For what they did to those families, the assholes deserved to feel an ounce of the trauma they put innocent people through,” I say through gritted teeth.
She scribbles rapidly, then spears me with another direct look. “Do you believe you have a Robin Hood complex, Mr.…umm, Monroe?”
I bare my teeth in a half-smile. “If that’s what turns you on, Kitty cat, then sure.”
I meant it as a joke, but I’m rewarded with the sight of her nipples hardening and announcing their sexy presence beneath her shirt.
My mouth waters. My dick thickens and lengthens, unfurling down my thigh. I pop my ankle over my knee just so I don’t frighten her with my rampant state.
At least not yet. I’m enjoying talking to Little Miss Sophomore Without A Boyfriend. I’m not ready for her to jump up and run out of the room once she catches sight of the size of my junk.
Sadly, she wouldn’t be the first to do so.
But she sees enough for more color to flow into her cheeks. She tries to cover it up by bending her head and scribbling furiously in her notebook, but she can’t help herself from casting me furtive looks from beneath those lush eyelashes.
God, she’s breathtaking.
And she doesn’t have a boyfriend.
Not that it would’ve mattered. Even from prison I can wreak considerable havoc. I left the army with enough connections and favors owed to pretty much pull whatever strings I want bar my freedom.
A boyfriend would’ve been quietly convinced to move on. To forget she existed and never speak her name again. Or fucking else.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
I know what she’s asking. More than one girlfriend in the past mentioned being nervous about the intensity of my stare.
My emotions and feelings over certain things have been known to be a little…feral. Jealous possessiveness is a monster I wrestle with when I care about something. Or someone. But it’s never been this ferocious.
