Siren

Siren Petrova

Siren

"You left an old dead man at my front gate."

My lips twitch into a knowing smile at the first words  Dominico utters when I enter his office. His men probably checked the car to see that the reason why the old fuck wasn't driving away is because he's dead.

I am already making myself comfortable on a seat opposite his desk that he is currently behind. Albeit he isn't  sat down on it. My eyes look at him, really look him standing there, tall and in nothing but a black T-shirt that hugs his masculine frame and black slacks that are held together by a brown belt around his waist. I bet a million bucks that belt is not needed and yet plays an important role in making his illegally gorgeous body look unearthly hot. His tattooed arms are full display and may I just say, it's all a sight to see.

In his suit, the man doesn't show an ounce of indication that he has any tattoos and judging by the ones that stick out slightly from his round necked tshirt, he's got more underneath the garment. I'll go ahead and blame the fact that I've been celibate for years at the fact that my stomach twists at the sight, giving my body an uncharacteristic heat. I've never felt hot and bothered by a man before and his presence alone is enough to make me want to.. shit no!

I lean back in my chair, playing it cool prior to my hormonal body before replying. "I thought it only fair that I return the gift you sent me a few days ago."

He doesn't say anything else. He doesn't look mad or bothered but he doesn't ask further. Or maybe he just doesn't want to show that I get to him, that is my plan after all. To drive him crazy, I plan to drive every man in my life crazy as much as they do me, it's really fun you know. My eyes snap to his arms when they flex and some of his hair falls on his forehead when he fishes out for something in his desk drawer and some stacked papers land on the table moments later.

My eyes move from gawking at his incredibly irresistible physic that I'm going to resist and they land on the stack of white papers. He slowly shoves the thing in front of me. It's the contract.

Damn, how many pages is this thing?

"Read it, analyze it and sign it." He orders.

My eyes move from the paper when he places a pen on top of it and they look up to meet his icy ones. He looks at me in scrutiny, watching my reaction but he could see my hands unmoving to attempt to read the thing.

"You know I didn't come here saying I will actually sign the thing right?"

His hands land on the desk, his baked arms rippling and flexing at the action. Damn it. Wear a shirt or something. "Then you won't leave here alive."

I almost scoff at his threat, my body moving ever so slowly to match his attempt to make me fear him. My elbows rest on the table, looking up at him in defiance and I see that he did not expect me to do so.

"Tread carefully Italian man, I don't respond well to threats."

His jaw ticks, his eyes blazing and I swear anything other than the negative tension passes between us. He then moves away from his desk, taking his seat and yet as he sits down, he's still larger than me and emits that same aura of dominance that overweighs mine.

"We have somewhere to be as soon as this weekend." He states, picking up a black small box of tin and opens another one of his drawers.

"We?" I question.

"Obviously. You want this over as soon as possible, no?" I don't reply, my eyebrow lift urging him to continue instead. "We start by introducing you to the world, as mine." He did not seem to be too fond of the part where I'm introduced as his.