“I’d be really careful if I were you, kitty cat,” I growled in her ear. “As you said, I’ve already added kidnapping to my list of sins. What’s one more to add to the pot? Imagine the fun I would have trying to figure out which one to break next.”
“Go ahead, I fucking dare you, Mac. Take your best shot, asshole.”
If I thought I was angry before, now I was flat-out furious. My chest vibrated with pent-up rage at her common language and varying insults. Normally, I admired a woman with that sort of fire, especially in the bedroom, but we weren’t set to fuck, and she wasn’t about to disrespect me in my own place. The trick was to scare her enough so that she’d keep her silly mouth shut and pretend to be grateful she wasn’t locked away in my penthouse for the next thirteen hours. Her skirt had ridden up, giving me the perfect opportunity to deliver a harsh smack to her ass. My palm tingled from the blow. At the moment of impact, I heard a yelp, she stilled, then the world around us came to a screeching halt.
“Mmmm…ahhhh…” she mewled unabashedly.
“Otelia,” I ground out her name. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
I was so caught up in being ticked off, I’d missed the subtle changes in her body language. Bent forward on the tips her toes, the hellish little vixen rotated her hips against my cock. A soft moan escaped her parted lips as she continued to find purchase against my now rock-hard dick.
“Don’t you know, or do you need me to spell it out for you, Darragh?”
The sound of my name in her raspy voice laced with arousal was my undoing. If she wanted to play, she’d picked the wrong man at the wrong time. With the shift in the tide, I found myself grinding my cock against her upturned ass, a final warning that shit was about to get real. For the second time in as many minutes, Otelia surprised me with a smirk over her shoulder, an invitation to bring it on. I released my strong hold around her spinal column and took a step back. The move allowed her to finally stand upright. I missed the warmth and feel of her sweet ass against my cock immediately, but the game was just beginning.
Otelia took her time standing to her full height before she turned to face me. Her overly expressive eyes roamed my body, betraying her shock at the bulge in my pants. If she thought I would try and hide it, she was fooling herself. I was damn proud of my cock and was often told how blessed I was in length as well as girth. Simply put, I was a hot-blooded man who liked to fuck and was too old for game playing, especially where the opposite sex was concerned. Women wanted me, and I took full advantage when the situation called for it. Today was no exception.
Otelia’s cheeks were pleasantly flushed, either from lust or the previous inverted position over the chair. Her breathing remained choppy. The unsteady ins and outs of her panting caused her breasts to rise and fall with each pass. In a word, she was magnificent. I took two more steps backwards, giving her a wide birth of which to come to her senses. Knowing her, this was probably another one of those lame escape attempts like the lamp debacle. My vexation settled just below the surface on standby, Otelia’s forthcoming actions the deciding factor. My dick grew harder thinking of all the ways I planned to punish her if this was a trick. Three more steps backwards, and I’d created the space needed to scrutinize.
She would have to come to me.
Her play.
Her choice.
CHAPTER 12
Otelia
GREAT JOB, ODIE.
Seduce the dangerous mob boss, why don’t you? What the fuck was I thinking? Antagonizing him into an argument was one thing, getting turned on while he spanked my ass was another. Someone had better call in a shrink ‘cause this girl was certifiably insane.
I’d tried my damnedest to remain neutral with this man, this…menacing kidnapper. Yet once we’d left the confines of the penthouse, I felt a sense of freedom, a green light to act and be who I normally was with any guy I found attractive. They were a weakness for me; it’s something Maribel and I had in common, but for vastly different reasons. She chose to keep her loyalties with one asshole who didn’t deserve it. I, on the other hand, believed in quantity versus quality. Assholes still, but as long as they showed potential, I was up for it. I’d been searching for the one who’d undoubtedly complete me, but so far, I’d come up empty. Heartbroken but never discouraged, I knew he was out there somewhere, waiting for me. I was promised as much.
In the meantime, I never denied myself the comfort of any bedmate who got my motor running, and Mac certainly did that. I considered them all to be a test run, a snack before a big meal is served, like cheese and crackers. This man had had my stomach tied up in knots since the very beginning. The inevitable likeness that we’d end up here was written in the stars. Corny, but how else could I explain the overwhelming desire coursing through my veins? If I paused to examine all the pros and cons of what I was about to do, I’d be standing here for hours. As it was, I didn’t have hours. I had minutes. Minutes to decide if I wanted to continue with this lunacy or admit defeat like a big girl would. The whole thing was silly, really. I wasn’t Mac’s guest, and this wasn’t a tour of his respectable business after a first date. This was serious stuff, and I might have just stepped in a big pile of bitch, please on my way to You-played-yourself-ville.
We stared each other down from a few feet away, neither one of us moving a muscle in any direction. Even from this distance I could smell his spicy cologne mixed with noxious gangsta pheromones. My pussy was doing the north side boogaloo between my legs. A swift wind, and I’d come on the spot. Something had to be done about this.
“Tell me a story, Mac. Remember, you promised,” I breathlessly requested, unable to remove my eyes from his protruding cock outlining his pants.
“What I said, Otelia, was that I might tell you a story,” he sternly corrected. “Seems to me you had something else in mind a second ago. Let’s concentrate on that, shall we?”
“Yeah, about that,” I tried to backtrack. “How about we…”
Shit, shit, shit.
“Walk to me, kitty cat,” he ordered. Desire evident in his demand.
His deep smoky voice garnered no argument, not that I had one to give. He had me. Lock, stock, and motherfuckin’ barrel.
He had me.
I threw my shoulders back and wiped my sweaty palms along the front of my skirt. If Mac had any intention of returning it for a full refund, he was shit out of luck. The store wouldn’t want it back with all my various bodily fluids on it, but I guess he could afford the loss.
The first step forward was almost painful, yet I somehow managed to take it and still hold eye contact. A chill started at the tip of my toes and traveled upward between my thighs. The second step was a little easier, and unless my ears deceived me, I heard what sounded like a growl coming from the crime boss. Step three brought us nose to nose, breathing heavily in each other’s personal space. Our height difference was decidedly more pronounced now that I was in his sights. This had to have been the biggest turn-on in my life, and we hadn’t even touched.
“I’m here, Mac. Now what?” I licked my suddenly dry lips, my neck strained with having to look up into his hooded eyes.
“You called me Darragh before.” He ran his nose up the side of my face then along my neck before reaching my ear. “I’ll have you screaming that name before long, kitty cat.”