Money made people do stupid crazy things.
Right.
Because if it wasn't because I needed the money... I wouldn't be here in freaking Russia, with Mr No Smiling's broad back facing me, as we checked into the most luxurious hotels I've stepped foot in. The beautiful ladies strutting up and down, with their insecurity evoking bodies.
" Two bedrooms suite, Roxine Campbello." He oozed off dominance, he carried it like an armor. Shiny, strong.
The receptionist kept smiling widely, I wanted to punch her in the face. Note, I'm not jealous, just ... can't she focus??.
The next thing I'm in an elevator with Mr Campbello, his eyes attached to his phone, literally.
" Staring is rude, but drooling that's even creepier Lana."
I rolled my eyes, " You're not my type Roxine."
His eyes snapped towards me, my heart wouldn't stop somersaulting even when he came closer, pushing me against the cold surface of the elevator.
" Am I not?" He scanned my entire frame.
" Absolutely not, my , type," I clarified with a slightly trembling voice.
" Tell me about your type,"
He wasn't actually joking.
" Tell me Lana, what's your type?, I'm curious," an almost invisible smirk, appeared on his face.
Wouldn't the damn elevator just stop?, Where are we even going?, Heaven?. Fuck me.
I blinked rapidly, swallowed hard, my palms pressed to the cold metal. Roxine was towering over me, his arms caging me.
" Speak Lana, or else," he leaned even closer.
I couldn't think and I wasn't idiotic to blurt out I liked men who were older, dominant, had respect for their women, like himself.
" It's my personal business." I met his gaze.
They'd changed, they'd become even darker.
" I warned you Lana."
My brows came together.
What did he...
I froze, Roxine's lips were on mine, his palm cradling the back of neck, his thumb running up and down my nape, exerting the perfect pressure.
Holy fuck.
"
YOU ARE READING
Incinerate Me
Romance" Roxine," she whispered breathily. I grinned softly, " Yes?, Do you have something to say, Miss Rhoades." I traced my nose up her jaw jawline. " You're too close," her hands rested on my cold chest. " First rule of caregiving, you must be closer t...
