I scrub my hand over my jaw, tracing the tremor there before returning my focus to Carmichael. The fury bubbling my veins doubles when I see the hope in his eyes. He thinks he has me over the barrel. I’m not so inclined to agree.
“If this is found to be untrue, the smile you’re wearing will drop two inches when I slit your throat and watch you take your last breath.”
His voice gives no indication he’s panicked about my threat when he replies, "You have my word, what I’m presenting is true," but his scent sure does. I don’t need to see a puddle around his fancy shoes to know he’s on the verge of pissing his pants. I can smell the fear on his skin.
“Okay.” Even with my apprehension as high as my agitation, a grin curls on my lips when my stand from my chair puts the armed guards on high alert. They watch me like a hawk. I’m used to being scrutinized, but what I say next is completely new. “You have one chance to prove your worth,Ahren. If all charges against me are dismissed, I’ll sign you on as my counsel.”
I’ve never trusted anyone before. Not my mother or the man who raised me, so this isn’t just foreign, it is also dangerous. If this goes wrong, I’ll pay for my stupidity for months to come. But if I don’t do this, I am a coward in every sense of the word.
I’d rather suffer a thousand deaths than be seen as a coward.
“No misdemeanors, plea bargains, or community service. All charges are to be dropped without record.”
The reason for my unusual bend of the rules is given credit when Justine says, “And?”
A normal person would have jumped at the opportunity to have me as her client, but she knows there’s more to this than the chance to be my attorney.
“And...” I wait, my silence building the suspense as well as the steps I take to bridge the gap between us. She should be running. She should be quaking in fear, but instead of doing either of those things, she watches me cross the room with her breaths as jagged as my swagger.
My cock thickens painfully quick when I bring myself to within an inch of her face. She’s even more enticing up close. Slightly glossed lips, unique aquamarine eyes, and a petite nose with nostrils that flare as rapidly as mine when I imagine how intoxicating her scent will be once it’s combined with mine.
Her pure smell is my undoing, because as much as I love it, I have every intention of ruining it. She’ll smell far from pure by the time I’m done with her, so I better take advantage of her intoxicating scent now.
When I sniff Justine’s hair, in the corner of my eye, I witness Carmichael demanding for the guards to step in. The fury on his face doubles when Justine signals for them to stand down just as quickly. She thinks I’m testing her loyalty. I’m not. But if it keeps her still long enough I can confirm she smells nothing like Carmichael, I’m happy for her to believe that.
When my nose tracks across her collarbone, a growl rumbles in my chest. The sweat dotting her skin has me confident her cunt will taste as good as her lip gloss smells, and it does weird things to my insides.
While tracing the goosebumps mottling Justine’s wrist with my index finger, I stray my narrowed gaze to Carmichael. His eyes are wide, shocked I stole the pie from his oven before he had even finished baking it.
I’m not sure why he’s stunned. No matter how often a snake sheds his skin, at the end of the day, he’s still a snake.
Carmichael knows that better than anyone.
When jealousy ignites in Carmichael’s slit gaze, I add words to the threats I’m issuing him. “If you get within an inch of her, I’ll cut off your cock and feed it to you.”
My eyes snap back to Justine when she inhales sharply. She’s not just turned on by my threat, the fire hidden deep in her eyes is thriving, begging to be lit.
She wants this almost as much as me.
My theory is proven without doubt when I pinch her chin to return her eyes to mine. Her eyelids are weighed down with longing, and her pulse is thunderous. “And don't think I won't know if he touches you, Justine.” Her quick inhalation nearly pops the buttons in her blouse, excited about my growly purr of her name. “I smelled your purity. I’ll know if it changes.”
I never understood a man’s desire to fall to his knees until now. Justine’s nod has my knees wanting to buckle—more to verify the syrupy taste of her cunt than to bow at her feet—but nevertheless, if a man is on his knees, he is on his knees. You can’t sugarcoat it.
Smirking about the sappy fuck I’m portraying, I head back to my seat. I walk backward to ensure Justine knows who I’m referencing when I say, “Let's get this wrapped up. I have crack to be snorting.”
Carmichael and his dorky-looking minions jump to the clipped command in my tone. The only one who remains standing firm is Justine. Just like earlier, she knows not all of my demand has been voiced, which isn’t shocking considering the rest of my requirements can only be fulfilled by her.
“Don’t make plans this weekend,Ahren. Your calendar just got blacked out by the man determined to read your wicked thoughts.”
Chapter Three
Tick, tick, boom.Carmichael is a dead man walking.
Celebratory kiss or not, I warned him what would happen if he got within an inch of Justine. He failed to take my threat as literal. I’d kill him now if his quick departure didn’t present a perfect opportunity for me to sample the lips that have been teasing me the past forty-five minutes.
I could have ended the game sooner by giving Justine Judge Santos’s contact details, but not only is my trust low after my Russian operative confirmed Carmichael’s claim about Erik being an FBI agent, I’ve also grown a sudden fascination with this side of the law.
The saying, ‘you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink,’ doesn’t resonate with Justine. Not only did she lap up every drop in the dish I left out for her, she’s watching me via hooded eyes, pleading for another serving.
