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After Zero and Crank leave, Trigger looks long and hard at me. “I forgot to tell you that you’re the most beautiful women in the world.”
It’s not original, but it is coming from my future husband so I’m more flattered than I’d typically be. “And I forgot to tell you that you’re the sexiest man alive.”
“Imagine the babies we’ll make.”
I almost melt into a pool of simpering estrogen. “Yes,” I agree, a smile hovering on my lips. “Imagine how we’ll make those babies.”
He grins and presses me up against the counter, pushing his very hard, very big erection into my belly. “I haven’t been the same since the food court. My dick ain’t interested in anyone but you and monkhood doesn’t suit me.”
Shit he’s good. “I’ve never had a virgin before.” I trace the valleys of his biceps as I look up at him through my eyelashes.
He grins and winks. “You’ll have to show me the ropes, gorgeous.”
I decide he’s right, but not the way he means. I slide away from him despite my body’s objection and sit in the old office chair behind the counter. The springs squeak in protest. “As you said, this isn’t a social call.” I blink at him. “And I’m not the kind of girl who exchanges sex for money.”
His eyes narrow dangerously. “You better fucking not be.”
“I just said I’m not.” I add a measure of ice to my voice to dampen the fire his possessive words evoke. “But like I told your prospects, I can’t pay your extortion rates, and I won’t.” I can toy with the prospects, but I know that won’t wash with the tall man leaning over the counter, all tats, piercings, and muscle. I shiver as I think of what’s under his clothes.
“The Jury don’t take no for an answer.”
“Even if I’m your wife?” I flutter my eyelashes coquettishly.
His eyes get wide. “I think we’re at the dating stage, not the wedding stage.”
I like that he isn’t running for the hills. “The unfortunate part of all this is that we can’t even be at the dating stage because it would be like I’m prostituting myself.” I too can be an extortionist when I want to be and this time, yes, I’m using the word in the proper context.
He growls and bangs the flat of his palm on the counter hard enough to make me jump. “One has nothing to do with the other.”
“You really are unfamiliar with the concept of boyfriend/girlfriend.”
Trigger’s beautiful brown eyes lose their spark. “It’s bad enough you sent Zero and Crank back to the prez with their tails between their legs. You ain’t gonna do it to me.”
My stomach lurches at the thought of Trigger turning his back on me and walking out the door. “Maybe I should meet this president of yours.” I pause, furrow my forehead though I know it’s bad for my face, but I need the effect. “It’s a conflict of interest for you. If you insist I pay, we can’t pursue a relationship.” I hesitate again, then with a measure of insecurity in my voice that’s far too real, say, “Unless, I’m misinterpreting your interest.” Shit, I’m getting emotional. “Maybe you see me as a conquest.”
Never have I ever shown this kind of weakness to a man, but this one? I can’t fight my attraction to him. He’s everything I want.
He stalks around the reception counter, grabs my arms in a solid grip and yanks me to my feet. His face is hostile. “You already know I don’t fuckin’ see you as a conquest.” Then he kisses me hard, long, and lusty. It’s good that he’s holding me upright, because his passion streaks past my lady bits to my knees, which start to buckle.
“Trigger,” I moan as he wraps his arms around me and holds me like I’m the sweetest thing he’s ever touched.
His aggression gives way to soft kisses that make me believe in happy ever after. “The day we met was the best day of my life and I’ve had some pretty fuckin’ good days,” he murmurs, his lips a hairsbreadth away from mine. “I couldn’t find you anywhere, didn’t know enough about you, but you were in my thoughts every fucking minute of every fucking day.”
I slide my hands around his shoulders. “I know. Me too. But how’s this going to work? We’re on opposing sides of a dilemma.”
He lets me go and I grab the edge of the desk to keep from falling back into the chair. “I don’t know,” he says as he runs his hand through his long curly hair and paces towards the window. “I don’t fuckin’ know.”
I follow him, slide my arms around him from the back, press my face between his shoulder blades, and inhale the smoky leather of his cut. The subtle scent of danger burns through me. “It’s like I’ve known you forever and I’ll know you forever, but even if this ends in heartbreak, I’d like to give us a try.”
He turns and crushes me against him, his strong arms cocooning me. “There won’t be heartbreak, won’t be tryin’. We’re not walkin’ away from each other, even if the going gets rough.”
I nod into his chest, resisting the urge to yank his T-shirt up and lick his well-defined pecs. “Then take me to your leader.”
He sighs in resignation. “I don’t like how this is gonna go down if Hangman decides to play hardball.”
Hangman? I wonder what he did to merit such an ominous club name. “We’ll figure it out,” I tell him, but despite his promises, I don’t deceive myself. Trigger barely knows me and Hell’s Jury is his club. His loyalty will lie with them over a woman he’s met twice.
“Okay.” He nods as his eyes rake me. “Best you change.”
