Page 55 of Her Mafia King


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Our tongues tangled as if we were each trying to sear the other one more cruelly. My heart pounded beneath my ribs. I’d opened the gate to a dangerous game. I couldn’t undo it. I’d wanted this woman when we met. Nothing had changed what her body did to me. My hand slid along the dip of her lower back until I gripped her ass firmly. She hissed, but the kiss raged on.

How long could we stand next to the pool this way? Groping. Desperate to crawl under each other’s skin.

“You hate me,” she whispered. I lowered my mouth to her neck. I kissed her throat, following the V the swimsuit made.

“No.” I hooked a finger beneath the strap, it was fastened with a figure-eight clasp. “I can’t.”

“Only five minutes ago…”

I took a full handful of her ass in my palm. “Stop talking.” I kissed her roughly. She threw her arms around my neck.

I was drowning. Getting drunk on her lips. When it abruptly halted at the sound of Kennedy’s phone. She wrangled herself free and dove on the chaise to grab it.

“I need to take the call. I’ve been expecting this all day.”

“Go ahead,” I groaned.

She held the phone to her ear. “Renee? Oh, God, what is it? What happened? Did they vote?”

I rubbed the side of my jaw, watching her walk to the end of the pool where the diving board was perched. I lost the rest of the conversation. I sat at the end of the chair.

Minutes later, she padded over in her bare feet. “I’m sorry, but I have a long night ahead of me.”

“Everything all right?” I stood, towering over her.

“No. It’s not. But I’ll handle it.” She smiled. “I always do.”

“You won’t tell me what it is?” I asked.

“No.”

I studied her, wondering where this unfazed version of her had come from. Paul told me she had been trained. But the woman in front of me had instincts. She had confidence and command. I was starting to understand why they called her a queen. It wasn’t an exaggeration or an honorary title. She had the kind of fire in her eyes that would put men’s head on spikes.

I retrieved the letter we had trampled and shoved it in my pocket. “I’ll call my accountant tomorrow,” she explained. “I am sorry about the mix up.”

“I’ll make the payments. I don’t agree with the contracts, but money’s not an issue. Not with me running the organization now.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Kimble walked into the courtyard. “Do you need me?” he asked.

“Everything’s fine. Mr. Corban is leaving. Can you set up my office, please? Tell Bella I’ll need dinner served there tonight. I just have to run upstairs and change.”

He nodded, but his eyes were on me. Hounding me like they always did.

“Kimble,” she pressed.

“I’ll take care of it.” He was hesitant to leave us. “The office will be ready.”

Kennedy draped a pool towel over her arm. “I’m sorry about this. All of it.” She looked up at me.

My fingers grasped her wrist. “Have dinner with me. Tomorrow night?”

“Is it business or pleasure?” she asked.

“Pleasure. Only.”

I saw the way her eyes lit. It was only a second, but the flame was there. It was real.

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