Hot Wicked Romances

“Now you look a little more like a respectable man. Clearly, you see the problem with my baby sister running a place like this?” she asks him.

“Running?” Speechless again.

“Ya, I see the problem,” Greer responds, his tone neutral so I’m not sure where he’s going to go with it.

“Problem?” I ask, but again, I’m ignored.

“Please enlighten Jet then. She needs to know this whole inking her body thing is just disgusting and downright shameful behavior for a girl from our pedigree.” I want to smack the smug off her face.

I’m rooted to the spot as he walks over to me, reaching out to grab my hand. Tracing the daisy tattooed on the inside of my wrist, he whispers, “Shameful.” His finger moves again to the stars on the inside of my bicep. “Sexy.” He lifts my arm and kisses all three stars before turning me around and licking the black dove on my shoulder. “Fucking perfect.”



By this time, I think I’ve melted into a pile of warm butter at his feet. The way he’s crowding into the back of me, his harsh breaths, and the feel of his heart battering through his chest has me wishing he’d throw me on the closest surface and have his wicked way with me.

“Are you kidding me?” Margo’s screech breaks the moment.

My libido takes a nosedive.

Sighing, I turn to face her. “Tell me why Margo or leave and don’t come back.”

“You don’t mean that.” I know she hears the truth in my words so I wait. “Dad’s got someone he wants you to meet,” she finally concedes in a small whisper.

“What do you mean meet? Who? Why?”

I can feel the tension in Greer as he stands beside me, and I see it in the way Eli is positioned rigidly near the door.

“Dad’s going to make partner. Henry Malcolm’s son wants to meet you before he does anything with Dad.” I can’t tell if my sister’s pissed or shocked about what our father wants me to do.

“So he wants to what… Marry me off?” I laugh jokingly.

“I don’t fucking think so,” Eli growls from his stance.

I can see how restless he is getting. The lines in his handsome face are stressed, his brows are drawn down in anger, and he had this tick at his temple that I want to kiss. I attempt to secretly look at Greer, but the man has incredible radar because he catches my gaze like a Venus flytrap—there is no leaving once ensnared.

Anger rolls turbulently through his expression, and it takes me a moment to realize it is the thought of me being with someone else that has done that. Wow.



How is that possible? We barely know one another? Lust can be a powerful thing, and I get that. But what they are potentially signing up for is more than any man would normally be willing to go for. I’m not worth the trouble this will undoubtedly cause.

“Two men, Jet? Really. Even for you, that’s outrageous.”

Is it bad I want to pop her in the mouth for her condescension? ‘Cause I am tempted.

“You can’t keep being the screw-up and shame of the family. You need to accept that this is your life.” I’m still speechless. It’s not like we’re in the fourteenth century where marrying your offspring to the first well-off man was the thing to do.

Not to sound like a petulant child but… “He can’t make me.”

Eli’s snort confirms that it’s exactly how I sound. Just fucking great.

“Look, Margo, I’m done with this. If he wants something from me, then tell him I said shove it till he can come to me himself. I’m not some fucking puppet out to do his bidding. I’m a goddamn person.”

I bet I could toss a basketball in the little surprised “O” her mouth has opened up into. I will never understand why she’s shocked with the way I speak; it’s not like this is new. I’ve been foul-mouthed and opinionated since the day I was born.

“You’re so frustrating, Jet!” I hear her mumble something else as she slams through my shop door, but I don’t quite catch it.





Eli



The girl sure knows how to keep a person on their toes…and speechless. I think I’ve spent more time trying to find my words around her than not. Most men would have run for the hills; I’m just dying to know more. To find out why her family is so fucked up they think they can dictate what she does or doesn’t do with her life. I am not surprised that Greer’s suspicions about the article we found this morning are true. Jet is a catch, and this Malcolm guy’s son obviously knows it.

As for the bullshit about her shop being a joke? The jokes on them. She is one of the most professional people I’ve ever encountered in this field. She works fast, accurate, and is a sight better than the last guy who did work for me.

“Is this normal?” I ask her, wanting to know just how fucking nuts her family is.

“What?” She walks away from us with a dismissive tone to her voice. “The trying to marry me off so they don’t have to deal with me, or the talking down to me like I’m shit on their shoes?”

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