Page 37 of Mr. Risky

Pippa put her fork down with a clatter.

“Is that supposed to be a reference to my husband?” She asked in a hard, tight voice, and suddenly the atmosphere around the family breakfast table wasn’t very friendly at all.

I shrugged. “It’s not in reference to anyone specific.”

Pippa still looked angry.

“Sosie, you sound hormonal,” Granger said, and Hayden leaned forward angrily to object to that, the two siblings bitching face to face.

But a little motion over my best friend’s shoulder caught my eye.

His eyes on mine, I saw Granger stretch his hand over Pippa’s cup of coffee, and crumble something into it.

What the hell?

My jaw dropped.

“Pippa—”

But just then Chamberlain Hollingsworth came in, and we were forced to change the conversation to what he wanted to talk about.

But the whole time I wondered what the hell he was doing.

When Hayden suggested a stroll after breakfast, Granger shook his head.

“Sosie needs to go get dressed and ready for the performance. I think her duties as a Siren take precedence over everything.”

Fuming, I didn’t dare object with Chamberlain there, and I had barely raised my skirt in the changing room when the door opened and Granger walked in.

“I told you I didn’t want you anywhere near Hayden,” he growled. “That’s my pussy. It’s not for every Tom, Dick, and Harry in the fucking neighborhood.”

“What are you doing to Pippa?” I demanded. “What are you putting in her drink? Are you drugging her?”

He laughed, running those strong hands along my arms.

“You think Pippa needs to be drugged to want to fuck me?”

“I swear to god, Granger, I will tell her.”

“Stop flirting with Hayden,” he retorted. “That pisses me off.”

“You’re fucking Pippa, you disgusting bastard! Tell me what exactly your game is here or I’m calling the cops.”

“Idle threats, sweetheart.”

“You can’t watch me every second. The next time I have to hear you having sex, I’m going to go blow Hayden. No matter what the fuck he’s doing.”

Granger closed his fingers around my throat, giving me an admonitory squeeze.

“Why can’t you just trust me?”

“Because I know you!”

“Fine, brat. Why do you think Pippa hasn’t gotten pregnant?”

I gasped, wrenching his fingers off me.

“You’re secretly giving her birth control?”