Series: Chicago Sin Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Intimidation is an easy game, really.
But that’s not tonight’s show.
I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do with her, but everything in me rebels at the thought of scaring her even more than I have. And honestly? She’s a tough cookie because so far, the only thing that broke her was the closet and the risk of not making her deposit.
So she trusts me against her better judgment, or she trusts herself to be able to handle me.
I don’t mind either of those scenarios.
We pass a motor cop giving tickets out. Hannah’s head jerks up.
I tense, a million ugly scenarios running through my head, the primary one involves her trying to open her door and jump out. But she immediately looks over at me. Nothing surreptitious about it. Not hiding what she just saw. More like she’s questioning me—did I see that cop?
I cock a brow. I really don’t understand this girl.
“What happens if you get pulled over?”
My brain scrambles to follow. Is she for real?
“You worried about me?”
She shrugs. “You don’t have a license.”
I throw on the brakes when I see someone pulling out and put on my blinker behind them. While we wait, I give her a total stare-down, trying to get into her head. “You scared of me at all, Flowers?”
I should want her answer to be yes. It would mean I’ve done what needs to be done to keep her quiet. Ensure she doesn’t talk. But for whatever dumbass reason, I love that she’s not all that scared. Because she’s into me.
Her eyes widen slightly like I just reminded her that she should be. “Yeah.” She sounds breathless.
“Not enough to want me busted.”
She’s still holding her breath when she gives her head a little shake.
Huh. Not sure what I did to win her allegiance, but I like it.
I park and throw my door open, walking around swiftly in case she runs.
She doesn’t. She hops out and tugs down her short skirt, which rides tight over those shapely thighs. Her mess of curls falls over one eye as she contemplates me.
I hold out my hand like we’re on a date and she invited me in instead of whatever the hell I’m doing with her.
“I’ve had enough of hand-holding with you.” She flounces past me without taking it.
Something foreign and buoyant stirs within me. Something I haven’t felt in years. What is it?
Amusement.
The girl amuses me.
That’s my lips trying to curve, but they don’t remember how.
I ignore the urge and follow her.
Chapter Twelve
Hannah
We walk up the stairs to my apartment, and I try to remember if I cleaned out Shadow’s kitty litter this morning. My place is tiny, and it can easily start to stink.
But that’s stupid—am I really worried about what he thinks?
It’s not like he’s some guy I invited to come up to Netflix and chill. He’s a mobster who killed a guy in my shop today. He’s taken me, my van and my apartment hostage, and I have absolutely no clue how this thing ends.
The only thing that keeps me from totally freaking out is his obvious attraction to me. Even now, walking up the stairs, I sense his gaze on my ass.
I turn around to verify. Yep.
“Like what you see?” I say dryly.
“Oh, Flowers,” he says. “I am all about your ass.”
I turn away before he can see the satisfaction on my face. This guy hasn’t been with a woman in years, and I’m his first lay, so, of course, he’s going to think I’m all that. Even so, his lusty reaction to my kiss back at the shop forever changed me. I don’t ever want to be with a guy who gives me less of a response.
It’s not that I don’t usually get attention. I do. I get plenty of it. Men all over my thing. But it never lasts because I’m the idiot who always gets attached too quickly. I’m an emotional sponge, and I get into their worlds. I feel their emotions for them. Try to fix their problems. Forget about my own. And then suddenly, I’m all in, and they’re walking away. Like clockwork.
Seriously, I’ve dated too many man-babies. Immature players who are more interested in themselves than anything else.
Armando is…
He’s extremely capable. And very dangerous, yes. I’m sure in some twisted way that’s part of the attraction.
And I remember once upon a time, he used to be charming.
Now he’s damaged.
He’s been in prison, just killed a guy in front of me and then tied me up and fucked me immediately after. He’s probably very damaged.
I’m crazy to be so turned on by him. What is it about the bad boy that makes a woman think she can reform him? It’s a losing proposition, I’m sure. He may be sexier and more capable than the usual guys I date, but my pattern of wanting to fix is the same.