“Then why won’t you?” I challenged. Was I begging for it or truly hoping to prove a point? The lines blurred when he put his hand on me and invaded my space.
“Are you that hot for my dick inside you? You’d be dead before I came inside those tight walls of your cunt.” His hand slid from my nape to my throat. I wasn’t expecting the pressure that followed and instinctively, wrapped my hand around his wrist to stop him. “I didn’t say you could touch me.” His hand tightening around my throat ensured I couldn’t. “I’ll give you more than just a rough touch with your pleasure. Sex with me would be deadly, Mian. Are you ready to dance in the dark with me?” I suddenly felt the press of his fingers between my thighs. “Say the word, and I’ll fuck you right here.”
I was supposed to hate his touch. But my body’s needs betrayed me once again, and he was very soon, going to discover it. What would stop him then from taking me?
Angel has had a lifetime of taking what he wanted. Including my son. I closed my eyes so the picture of his smile would be more vivid. He trusted and depended on me to keep him safe. I had to find a way.
I had no hope of controlling what my body waned, so I would follow my heart instead. It was the one place I could truly be safe from Angel.
Confidence allowed my body to relax, which Angel noticed immediately. “You think shutting me out will stop me?” I didn’t respond, but I could feel him watching closely. He kept his grip, and my body began to slack even more from lack of oxygen. “Very well,” he finally said and let me go. I coughed, drew in large gulps of air, and rubbed the sore spot on my throat. “Go upstairs.”
He walked away from me, but I couldn’t let him get the last word. “And then?” I said between sucking in air.
He stopped and turned back to face me. “You test me, Mian.” He shook his head. Then he said as he walked away again, “And then you wait for me.”
Chapter Forty-Three
The world is small for men with power.
ANGEL
I burst through the doors like I owned the place, which I pretty much did. It was also why I was so annoyed my presence had been demanded. I may have been the hired hand, but I did not take orders. My clients knew, with a single entry from my family’s black book, I could have them killed or imprisoned. The Knights took the soul of anyone who made a deal with us for power, fortune, or prosperity. For six generations, The Bandit never failed a job, which made the cost of their soul well spent.
The high back brown leather chair spun around and revealed dull brown hair, sharp eyes, and an expensive suit.
“What can I do for you, Senator?” My tone held a bite in it that I knew he wouldn’t miss. Senator Staten was as corrupt as the rumor mill accused. It just so happened that he gained his seat because of my father and was due for reelection soon.
“I need a job done, and I want it to be top priority.”
It wasn’t new for clients to demand priority. They all felt their problems were paramount, and with endless money to throw around, they were more than willing to pay for that illusion.
“That’s going to cost you.”
“I’m well aware of the costs, young man.” If this wasn’t a business meeting, I’d laugh at his attempt to make me feel small by pointing out my age, and then I’d slit his throat and sleep like a baby tonight.
My attention shifted to his excuse for a son sitting in the corner wearing a smug smile. He wore khaki shorts and a mint colored polo shirt with loafers. His pansy ass barely had hair on his legs but had the nerve to think he had some control.
“Eye problem?”
His smile dropped, and for a moment, he looked uncertain. “Excuse me?”
“You got something to say to me? You’re staring like you do.”
His chin lifted, thrusting his nose in the air as he turned to the senator. “Father, do we really need the help of a common criminal?”
His father started to respond when I cut him off. “Considering the reason he called me here is undoubtedly a crime, I’d say so.” I stalked forward and balled the front of his shirt in my fist before either one could know what I intended to do. I lifted him from his cozy spot on the couch until his feet dangled in the air. “But there’s nothing common about what I’ll do to you if you try to insult me again.”
“D—Dad,” he squeaked.
“Please, Mr. Knight.” Oh, now I’m Mr. Knight? “Unhand my son. I need him.” He regarded his son coldly. “At least, until the next election.”
A feral smile spread my lips, and I swear, another second, and he would have pissed himself. I set him on his feet gently and smoothed the front of his shirt. When I got bored with taunting him, I turned back to his father.
“You were saying?”
“Yes, well, I’m prepared to pay the cost… extra in fact… if you can do this quickly and quietly.”
“Don’t I always?”
He cleared his throat—probably to wash away an apology rather than his pride. “This is a sensitive matter. I need your absolute discretion.”