Page 42 of Ravaged By Passion


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“Gavino,” she says sharply as I place her finished plate down in front of her. “Will you just sit and listen?”

I go still and frown, narrowing my eyes. “Do you think it’s acceptable to talk to me that way?”

Her neck flushes. “I’m trying to tell you something. You freaking asked me a question, remember?”

I take a breath and slowly let it out before sinking into my seat. “Okay then. Tell me.”

“I’m not going to kill Malcolm.” She blurts it out like it was difficult for her to say and I sit back, eyebrows raised in surprise. I pick up my wine, sip it, wait a beat, and finally, I burst out laughing.

That only pisses her off more, obviously. I mean, she obviously had to work up the courage to yell that at me, and here I am laughing at her for it. I feel bad, I really do, but seriously?

I never once thought she’d murder Malcolm.

Hurt him, sure. Maybe take a steel rod to his knee. But murder?

If I wanted to put a bullet in Malcolm’s head, I’d do it myself. I don’t need a stranger for something like that.

“You’re such a bastard,” she says, slamming her hands down on the table. She shoves her chair back and stands. “You truly are a fucking prick.”

She spins and goes to storm off, but I leap up and chase her down. I catch her wrist before she can disappear out the door and tug her back against me. Her jaw’s clamped down and she’s looking at me like she’d about to slam her knee into my crotch, and I really hope she doesn’t—she might break my fucking half-hard cock.

Touching her does this to me. Even grabbing her wrist makes my body react with pure anticipation.

There’s something about this girl. Maybe it’s the smell of her perfume, or the swell of her breasts beneath her tight tank top, or her perfectly formed shoulders and collarbones, or her lips and eyes, or those cheeks, or fuck—I don’t know. Everything about Jeanie makes me wild with lust and it’s driving me insane. I want it to stop, and I realize the closer I get, the worse it’ll be.

But right now, she’s pressed against my body and I can’t control myself.

“Nothing about this is funny,” she says softly, trying to pull away, but I won’t let her. “I want to leave now.”

“No,” I say and turn her from the door. I push her back against the wall and pin her there tightly. “Listen.”

“Asshole.” She’s breathing hard, her breasts rising and falling, and fuck, I keep glancing down at her body. I want to keep my eyes on hers but her lips are too inviting. “You can’t just restrain me.”

“I never thought you’d kill Malcolm,” I say, leaning forward to brush my mouth against her throat. She grunts in surprise and groans as my tongue finds her earlobe. Holy fuck, that noise is like heaven. It’s a soft whimper, half moan and half groan, like she’s so turned on she can’t help herself, but she wants to try to hide her pleasure “That was never the plan.”

“Then what the hell do you want from me?”

“I want a lot from you, Jeanie,” I whisper and kiss her ear. What am I doing? This is way too far. I kiss her neck, her jawline. “I want to feel that soft, soaking pussy of yours again. I want to hear you moan. I want that whimper you just made again.”

She does it for me, that noise. I growl with delight.

“You can’t,” she says, shaking her head as my lips brush hers.

“You’re not going to kill Malcolm. You’re going to find something that will hurt him. Something that will damage his reputation and make our deal fall through. You won’t murder the man, but you’ll destroy him all the same. I know Malcolm, and there are a dozen skeletons in his closet. All you have to do is find one and release it.”

She stares into my eyes. There’s fear in that stare, but there’s also lust, yes, there’s excitement and desire beneath that uncertainty. She afraid in the same way I am: terrified she’ll tumble deeper into this physical attraction. This isn’t safe, far from it, and maybe that’s why it feels so good.

“I know exactly what I want to use against him.” Her voice comes out a raspy whisper. Her eyes burn with excitement and my heart’s racing as adrenaline fills my body.

“Tell me.”

“He got my mother fired from her job as a postal clerk. He bribed her supervisor, hell, he probably bribed everyone in that entire damn post office branch, and he got her kicked out. He got her benefits stripped. Her pension destroyed. But he didn’t stop there. He got her kicked out of her apartment, the home we’d had until I was five years old, and nothing was the same after that.” Her jaw’s set, her chin raised. “He destroyed my mother’s life. He made my world a living hell. And I want to prove it.”

My mouth opens and I can’t stop the surprise I feel echoing through my chest.

I knew she had a connection with Malcolm—I understood she believed that bastard ruined her mother already—but I didn’t realize she had a specific allegation. And not a small one, either. Bribing a federal official, even if he’s a low-level nobody in a post office, that’s an enormous deal. That’s jail time and scandal, at the very least.

If this gets out, if she can prove what she’s saying, it might very well drive Malcolm from this city for good.

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