But it’s not enough; it’s never enough.
“Hey,” a voice purrs from behind me. I freeze, the cigarette halfway to my lips.
No fucking way.
But it is. I turn slowly, and there she is. Wren fucking Davis, leaning against the doorframe like a goddamn wet dream come to life. She’s got a sheer robe on now, but it does fuck all to hide her body, her tits, her fucking everything.
“Long time no see, D,” she says, her lips curving into a smirk. “Enjoyed the show?”
8
Dimitri
D?Since when does thissukacall me by my nickname?
Not when I first saw her naked body covered in the blood of those Russian pigs.
Not when she caught the bride’s bouquet at Luka’s wedding and tossed it at me like a fucking joke.
Never.But I like it.
“The fuck you doing here, Wren?” I snarl, trying to ignore how her sheer robe clings to every curve, leaving jack shit to the imagination.
She saunters closer, and I feel my muscles tense.
Why am I acting like a pussy?Blyat!
Part of me wants to grab her, slam her against the wall, and fuck her senseless. The other part wants to run like a goddamn coward.
“Could ask you the same thing,” she says. Without asking, she reaches out, her fingers brushing against mine as she plucks the cigarette from my hand. “Didn’t peg you for the strip club type.”
I force down a lump in my throat as I watch her bringing it to those plump lips.
Clenching my fist into a ball, I reply, “Business,” my eyes fixed on her mouth. “Not that it’s any of your fucking concern.”
She exhales slowly, the smoke curling between us. Her hand lifts slightly, the cigarette dangling between her fingers. “This shit will kill you, you know.”
“Says the one who’s sucking on it like it’s a fucking lifeline,” I snap back, my eyes darting to her lips again.
Casually, she taps the cigarette, shedding ash into the alley. A tired smile plays on her face, but she doesn’t say anything. Her gaze drifts to the dark alley.
I follow her eyes, spotting two shadows near the dumpster. Some asshole’s clearly getting his rocks off with a whore. Wren just shakes her head slightly, like she’s seen it all before.
I watch Wren take another drag ofmycigarette, her full lips wrapping around it in a way that makes my cock twitch.
It’s sin incarnate. Does she even know those plump lips of hers are begging to be claimed, bitten, owned?
Blyat, what is it about this woman that gets under my skin like a fucking infection?
My body’s screaming to throw her against the wall, rip that flimsy robe off, and show her who she fucking belongs to.
But I can’t.Won’t.
Fuck me.
I let out a growl that’d make a rabid dog back off. Not her, though. This cunt doesn’t even flinch.
I look at her again and realize it’s notreallyabout her looks. It’s the way she carries herself, like she’s got titanium for bonesand ice in her veins. This woman, she’d stare down Satan himself and make him piss his pants.
