Dangerous Love(5)

By: Penny Wylder


He clicks his tongue. “No deal if they’re wet, dirty girl. You swore you weren’t into me, remember?”

“I’m not doing this.”

“What are you, scared?” He shakes his head again. “Daddy’s little girl is in over her head, clearly.”

Maybe they aren’t wet yet. Maybe I’m just feeling it internally. Maybe I can bluff my way through this. “Turn around,” I snap.

His eyebrows shoot up his forehead. He clearly didn’t expect me to take him up on this dare. But with a shrug and that damn grin, he does, he turns his back to me and faces the opposite wall. “I’d say no cheating,” he adds, “but I can’t see how you could cheat, unless you carry a clean pair of panties in that bag of yours.”

After today, I’m going to start, I think. At the same time, I reach up under my skirt and shimmy out of my panties. Let them drop to the floor to assess the damage.

Fuck.

They land straight between my feet with a solid plop, enough to make Damon turn back around before I’m even done stepping out of them.

“Fuck, Ashley, you’re dirtier than I thought.”

The panties get stuck on my shoe, so I simply kick my foot in his direction. They land right across his lap, a perfect strike. As I watch, he peels them off himself, amusement written all over his face. “I don’t think I need to tell you I win.”

“I don’t think I need to remind you that you’re wrong. You’re in prison, Damon, and us? We’re holding the keys.” With that, I wrench the doorknob and yank open the door.

Only to find the guard right outside, watching. He sees the panties in Damon’s fist and laughs. “Souvenir?”

As I watch, Damon lifts my panties to his face and breathes in deep, a feral grin taking over his expression. He looks hungry, and in spite of myself, I can’t help feeling even hotter at the sight.

“From my sexy fox of a fiancée,” Damon replies. “Don’t worry, it’s a one-time only souvenir. Next time she won’t be wearing any panties. Isn’t that right, sweetie?”

I slam the door in his face at that, which makes the guard burst into laughter. To the guard, all I say is, “I’m ready to go.”





2





“I couldn’t get anything out of him, Dad. I’m sorry.”

Dad paces across the study, a cigar in one fist and a glass of whiskey in the other. The latter, he downs in one gulp and plops onto his desk for me to refill.

I do.

“You had one job, Ashley.”

“I know, Dad. I just didn’t expect him to be so…” When I don’t continue for a moment, at a loss, Dad clears his throat sharply.

“So what, Ashley?”

“So himself. I don’t know. He just refused to listen to anything I said, even when I suggested we’d send him to solitary for months—”

“Prying information from someone like him is a negotiation, Ashley. You don’t open a negotiation with the minimum bid. You said months? You should have told him we’d lock him in there for years. For a decade at least. That, or you threaten to have him strangled in his sleep.”

My eyes widen. “But—”

“No, we wouldn’t actually. But you start high and then barter lower. Have I taught you nothing? Threaten his life, then become lenient and suggest only a few years in solitary once he’s panicking.”

I grimace. “I’m sorry, Dad. If I can just meet with him again, I’m sure I can do better…”

“You’ll have to. We’re running out of time, and options. We need that cash if we’re going to stay in business past the month’s end. Beyond that…”

“I know, Dad. If we don’t get it, then Diggs and his crew close in. Take over our territory, and probably hire hits on us both before a day has passed.”

“Then you know how high the stakes are here. How important this is. How much trust I’m placing in you.”

“Of course I do, Dad.”

He clenches his fist around the whiskey glass and downs another glass all in two gulps. “Then why,” he snarls once he’s finished, “are you disappointing me?”

“I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”

He grabs my wrist just as I reach for the bottle of scotch to top him up. “Damn right you will, Ashley. Because this time, we’re not allowing for any mistakes.” He squeezes, just hard enough for me to feel it. My stomach clenches.

Dad’s never hurt me. Not exactly. He gets his rages, but who doesn’t? He’d never take it any farther than this, than just blowing off steam in my general direction. He’s not a good person, I know that. But he’s not a monster either.

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