Page 25 of Of Snakes and Men


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Nah, she wasn’t a perfume kind of woman. It had to be something practical.

Wouldn’t surprise me if that hippy-ass cousin of hers created this exact blend just for Hope and gifted her soaps and lotions and shit to her for holidays. And because Hope was practical that way, she used it.

“Eggs,” she said, and it didn’t exactly escape me that her gaze wasn’t on mine. It was focused almost just past my ear, so it could seem like she was looking at me, without actually having to do it.

“Yeah? You making me some?” I asked.

“That’s the job, isn’t it?” she asked.

It was right that second that I heard the back door opening.

I might tell her after that it was a split-second decision.

But, in fact, I’d clearly been thinking about that shit for a while.

My hand shot out, grabbing her by the back of the neck, and hauling her forward even as my lips crashed down on hers.

Her entire body stiffened at the contact, her lips hard and unmoving against mine.

But the shift was almost fucking instantaneous as my fingers sifted up into her hair, giving a little tug that had her lips parting on a gasp, letting mine claim hers more fully.

She was kissing me back then, her body loosening, swaying into mine, going all soft in a way I could only imagine before as her hands slipped up my chest, hands resting there. Like maybe she was telling herself to push me away.

But as my teeth nipped her lower lip, those fingers curled into my shirt as a little tremble moved through her body.

It didn’t matter that I already heard my guy stop walking in, mumble something inappropriate in Spanish, then take his ass back outside.

I was too into this now to back away.

So I let my tongue move inside to claim hers, hearing her little whimper as I did.

She was softer, more submissive than I would have anticipated. Maybe it was just the surprise of it all, but she was letting me take the lead, responding to my lips and tongue and teeth instead of making her own demands.

My tongue retreated and my lips took over once again, deepening the kiss, crushing her lips under mine.

A moan escaped her, muffled by my lips, and the little rumbling sound my body made in response was what finally did it.

Broke the spell.

Had her stiffening again.

Then yanking away.

I watched as her eyes went wide, felt it as the hands that had been clinging to my shirt suddenly shoved me back hard.

“What the fuck was that?” she snapped, conveniently pretending that she hadn’t been a fully present participant in that kiss.

“You didn’t hear the door open?”

“I heard it,” she said, frowning at me. “So what?”

“So we were standing too close to not be talking. And your ass isn’t supposed to speak English,” I reminded her.

“So… you could have moved away,” I suggested.

“Wasn’t enough time.”

“But there was time to manhandle me,” she said with an eye roll.

“You gonna pretend you didn’t enjoy being manhandled?” I asked. “That you haven’t been thinking about it since watching me jerk-off last night?” I asked, watching her eyes go fucking huge.

I won’t lie.

It was fun to get the better of a woman like her, one so sure of herself, so good at putting on a blank face, playing her cards close to her vest.

Yeah, I’d known she was there. Almost the moment she’d walked into my bedroom, in fact.

What can I say? When you’d been in a cartel since fucking elementary school, you learned some skills. Like seeing everything. Hearing everything.

Then, when you were plotting to overthrow said cartel as you got older, yeah, you honed those skills even more.

Nothing happened that I didn’t know about in my house.

I could hear a fucking fly dancing around the kitchen light from upstairs. One of my men sneaking into the fridge for a snack. A dog throwing up on the other side of the fucking yard.

It was why this whole not knowing who my snake was thing was driving me fucking insane.

But, yeah, she couldn’t be in my room at the same time as I was without me knowing about it.

She, however, somehow missed the sound of the water in the shower until she was in the bathroom, carrying towels she meant to stock the closet with.

And when her gaze finally did land on me, she didn’t turn and run, try to pretend she didn’t see.

Oh, no.

She stood there.

She watched.

While I stroked my cock to thoughts of her.

On her knees, mouth open, my cock slipping inside.

On her back, legs spread, inviting me in.

On all fours, ass up, begging for me to fill her.

Yeah, she stood and watched, her breathing getting heavier, her fingers curling tight into those towels she was carrying, her thighs pressing tightly together like it could ease the ache.

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