“Again, I didn’t plan on this happening,” she said. “And I’ll clean everything up. I’m working on it.”
“Where does this cabin come in?”
She exhaled. “It’s mine, okay? A place I like to come to sometimes. It helps me think.”
Even the heartless Widow Maker needed an escape. Boss never granted himself such liberties. Too dangerous.
“You like the ocean?” he asked. Graciella was cold, calculating, and ruthless. Discovering she had hidden passions was worth the drive out to the beach.
She didn’t answer him, but he expected no less.
“Mind if I have a seat?”
“Make yourself at home,” she said, snatching her hands away once he relaxed his grip. He sat on the edge of the bed, the springs squeaking slightly from his weight.
“I never thought of you as a floral girl,” he teased.
“You know so little about me, Boss. You think you know everything, but you can never get in here.” She used two fingers to tap her head.
“I want in there.”
She sauntered toward him, standing directly in front of where he sat. Her legs were bare. She only wore a short white sundress, and it highlighted her golden skin. “You get everything you want, don’t you?” she asked.
“Almost.”
He ran both his hands up the backs of her legs. She didn’t flinch away.
Boss groaned, his cock already stiff and uncomfortable.
“Have you had many dinner dates lately? I’m sure you can have any woman you want. You’re the great Boss of Killer of Kings, after all.”
“No dates. And the only woman I’m interested in right now is already here.”
“Now I’m the conquest of the week. I suppose I should be flattered.”
“You should,” he said.
“I guess I’m good for one night,” she said. “But men like you don’t settle for women like me. You want virgins. Young, sweet things to balance out the darkness. I know how it works,” she said.
“What happens to women like you?” he asked. There was pain in her words. He wasn’t used to getting an emotional response out of the raven-haired beauty.
“We become forgotten. Lost. Nobody really cares about the broken ones.”
His hands drifted higher up her thighs. Fuck, her legs were smooth. He felt the edge of her panties.
“I’m not most men. And, sweetheart, a virgin would never be able to handle me.”
****
Graciella had come here specifically because she knew Boss would follow. She hated the fact he’d outsmarted her last week with Viko. She couldn’t get him off her mind.
There was no way she’d admit she was in way over her head. There was only so much Viko could or would do to help her. Knowing Boss was invested in ending the drug problem was like having an insurance policy, and it brought her a measure of comfort.
She rested her hands on his shoulders. Seducing men was her specialty, but touching Boss was no ordinary day on the job. He was hard and corded with muscle, a beast of a man. He alone brought out her vulnerabilities and she hated it.
“What’s your real name?” she asked.
He smirked.
“You know mine.”
“I have no name,” he said.
His tone made her want to take back the question. She didn’t pry further.
“How’d you get this scar?” He traced an old scar on the front of her thigh. His big hands on her legs sent skitters racing all the way to her pussy, but no way would she let him know how much his touch affected her.
“We’ll be here all night if you ask about my scars. I have too many to count. And most of them have stories I’m not interested in revisiting.”
“You’re not the only one.”
Boss let go of her legs and shrugged off his jacket. He was strapped with weapons. She was surprised when he slid his holsters off and set them on the nightside table. It wasn’t like him to be off guard. When he pulled off his t-shirt, tossing it on the bed, her breath caught.
“Try and count them.” He winked.
His body was covered in ink, rock hard and ripped. And he was right. There were scars littered all over his body. Much worse than hers. God, she wanted to touch him, but Graciella had never allowed herself to become emotionally invested in a man. Boss was the only one capable of changing that. What was happening to her?
She knew firsthand the type of man he was. Boss fucked different women every week, and she knew that for a fact. Graciella had been attempting to watch his movements for months. It wasn’t easy. The man was like a ghost. Each time she saw him pick up different women, it gutted her, and she envisioned herself in their place.
Only she would never be his disposable plaything. That was all a killer like Boss was interested in.
She swallowed hard and got to her knees in front of him. This was the role she played—the seductress, the Widow Maker. It ensured she’d never be a victim. She smoothed her hands over his chest, shoulders, and along his arms. His scars weren’t a turn off. They were part of him, part of a wicked past. They showed he’d survived—same as her.
He cupped her face and leaned over to kiss her. She attempted to back away, but it happened fast. She kissed him back, savoring the fullness of his lips and domination of her mouth. He even tasted good, a mix of mint and raw masculinity. Boss lifted her sundress up over her head, leaving her in just a pair of lace panties.
Could she keep her heart out of this? Should she back out before it was too late?
Part of her wanted to seduce, another part, a new untapped part, wanted to be ravaged. She’d never given in to a man, never allowed herself to become seduced or enjoy sex. Everything was business, and if things ever got personal, she knew it would destroy her. Her past would never allow her to have a normal relationship. The horrific memories would no doubt show up and ruin things, or worse, make her weak and helpless.
“Come here, baby.”
She straddled his lap, slowly, deliberately, feeling his hard-on through his dark jeans as it rubbed against her pussy. Graciella had to stifle a gasp. It felt so damn good. She wriggled, wanting to affect him the same way.
“Is Killian waiting outside?”
He shook his head. “It’s just you and me.”
Boss kissed her jaw, his stubble scraping her skin. His hands cupped her ass, pulling her closer. He was so strong and in control. She wrapped her arms around his neck and closed her eyes, allowing herself to enjoy his attention. Having the great Boss in her bed was indeed an accomplishment. She’d never had such a powerful man interested in her. Even Viko never cared to touch her.
She should use this opportunity to her advantage, to wrap him around her finger. Graciella craved control, to have the upper hand. But was that even possible with Boss?
“What are you going to do with me?”
He smirked. “Make you love me.”
She ran her hand through his thick hair, examining his face, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and the intensity as he stared at her. “You’re wasting your time. That’s not possible.”
He rose slightly, twisting her body onto the bed so he dominated. Boss stared down at her, hunger in his eyes. If she didn’t know men so well, she’d swear he was about to kill her. His dark eyes were always cold and flat, like a man without a conscience. He was so hard to read.