Page 226 of Hate to Love You

“What?” I chuckle, slapping her ass hard. “You’ll do what exactly?”

I slip my hand between her thighs and smile when I hear her gasp, momentarily going limp in my arms as my fingers brush her panties.

“You know,” I say darkly. “I think I love having you so close to my face that I can smell your pussy. Your scent is intoxicating.”

“Ughhhh!” She grunts irritably as I ignore her pleas and carry her down the path toward the White Ferrari that sits rumbling at the curb. “You’re such a pervert.”

After hitting the button that opens the passenger door, I finally set Abby down on her feet in front of me. She immediately tries to smack me, but I grab her wrist, stopping her blow.

“Abby…Abigail!” I shout, as she tries to hit me again. “What on earth is going on here? I thought we were good? I don’t understand this reaction to me asking you to just come along with me for the day?”

“That’s not what you said!” She snaps at me. “You said you had some business to take care of, and wanted me to tag alon—”

“So exactly like I said,” I snort, shaking my head incredulously. “Got it.”

“...Yeah, but then you said we were going to go back to the penthouse.”

I stare at her, my brow furrowed.

The penthouse is the problem?

“Um, Boss?” Oleg clears his throat beside me, and I look up to see him standing there, awkwardly holding Abby’s purse out to her.

“Thank you, Oleg,” Abby says, taking it from him without taking her eyes off of me. “I mean, I think that’s what you’re supposed to say. Unless you’re Roman Antonov, it seems, and can just order people around without any kind of gratitude.”

“Yeah, yeah, we can discuss my etiquette deficiencies later,” I say, waving her off. “I’m still confused, what the hell is wrong with my penthouse?”

But before she can answer, we are interrupted.

“Hey man,” I suddenly hear from behind me.

Instinctively I push Abby around my body with one hand while simultaneously yanking my gun from my holster with the other.

But I’m not the only one who does.

Because just as I turn to face the skinny dark haired white kid, in his Bob Marley beanie, drooping dark jeans and a brightly colored track jacket, I see Abigail’s gun also pointing at the kid.

Holy shit.

I didn’t even know she had a gun on her, and she must’ve pulled hers out at the same time I did. And while that is kind of sexy, I still have to deal with the now terrified wannabe gangster walking up on us.

“The fuck do you want?” I bark at him.

“Shit! Yo, man, sorry,” he says, throwing his hands in the air at the sight of both Abby and I glaring at him, with weapons drawn. “I was just going to tell you that I liked the car and—”

“This is the part where you fuck off!” Abby snaps, her lip curling, and her chest heaving.

I find myself momentarily distracted by the breeze blowing her long dark brown hair as her eyes viciously stare down the kid with a smoldering intensity.

Yeah…very, very, sexy.

“S…sorry!” He says, turning on his heel and running the other way as fast as his legs can carry him.

That settles that.

Well, not exactly.

“Oleg!” I thunder whipping around to glare at him next. “What the fuck are you doing? We’re on high alert and you just let some random cockface walk up on us like that?! What the hell do I even pay you for?!”