Dangerous Love(7)

By: Penny Wylder



I force myself to laugh, loud and sharp. “If you think he’s not watching you every minute of every day that you’re here in his house, then you’re slower on the uptake than I thought, Jasper.” I allow my eyes to tick sideways for a second, really briefly, just glancing at the upper right hand corner of the garage. I pretend it was unconscious, a mistake.

Jasper falls for it. He follows my gaze to the security camera rigged up in the corner. It’s rolling, like always. Dad never bothers to watch the tape, but Jasper doesn’t need to know that. All he needs is the reminder that he’s on our turf. We’re in control here.

“Relax, I don’t mean any harm,” he says, laughing as he raises his hands in faux surrender. “So you need another conjugal visit with your intended. Fine. I’ll arrange that for you. More private this time. See how you like Mr. Tell when you have him all to your lonesome, without Daddy babysitting you, without any guards around to rescue you.” He casts another lingering glance over my body. “I’m sure he’ll enjoy having you, at any rate.”

“Just book the damn meeting, Jasper.” I spin on my heel and march toward the far corner of the garage, toward the exit that leads back into the main house. “As soon as possible.”

“Make sure you get us what we need this time, Ms. Marrón. Use those assets of yours—and I don’t mean your wits.” He laughs again, and I cast one last angry scowl over my shoulder, just in time to watch him check out my ass.

I slam the door to the garage behind me and stalk away. Jasper is a tool. A means to an end. Dad keeps him around for dirty work, not his charming personality. Still, I can’t help but resent what he implied. That I’m just going to fuck the information we need out of Damon Tell.

Worse, after the way my traitorous body reacted to Damon last time, a little part of me fears that Jasper might have a point…





3





It’s my first time in the conjugal visitation building. This place is nicer than the shithole where they let us meet our usual visitors—not that I’ve had many of those, mind—but that ain’t saying much. The room the guards escorted me into smells like bleach, and the fluorescent lights make the back of my eyeballs ache. It’s dim as hell in the main prison, everywhere from the mess hall to our bunks requiring we squint all the time. This sudden flood of light is an assault on my eyes.

I take a seat on the tiny twin bed, the only furniture in the room aside from a coffee table with two plastic mugs, a single pot of coffee, and no chairs. I try not to think about who was on this bed before, or what kind of shit they got up to in here. At least the white sheets look clean.

Then I try not to let my mind wander to Ashley Marrón. I try very damn hard not to think about what I’d like to do to my “fiancée” in this tiny soundproof private room of ours. I try not to think about her scent—the sweet, sticky smell that clung to those panties I made her give me last time. The panties I still have saved in my bunk, panties that I clenched tight in one hand while I wrapped my other fist around my hard cock, thinking about her wide brown doe eyes and the way her mouth jutted out in a pout when she argued with me. Fuck, I’d like to see those lips wrapped around my dick. I’d like to see how high and mighty she could act if I had her bent over in front of me with my cock in her tight little pussy. I’d like to make that girl scream and beg me to let her come, and I’d like to draw that out for as long as possible, make her wild with lust before I finally give her the orgasm her body is begging for.

I won’t lie, it does make it hotter that that sexy little girl is the daughter of my enemy. Fucking her would really piss off her Daddy, and it’d serve him right.

But it also makes her a hell of a lot more dangerous than she looks. Because I know the Marrón family. I know what her father is capable of, and I can only assume that his daughter is cut from the same cloth.

After all, Mauricio Marrón is the reason I’m in here. Without him, I’d be a free man. Without him, Eric Brown would still be alive today. Without him, Eric’s wife and kids would be home safe with their father, not out there on the run, living in secret, hiding from everyone and everything in their past.

Still. She’s an easy mark. A good way to get back at her father. If I can corrupt his little girl, it’s the least I can do to get revenge, after everything he’s done…

A deafening pounding on the door startles me out of my reverie. I glance down, and curse under my breath, realizing I’m still hard from daydreaming about Ashley earlier.

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