Owned by the Bad Boy(25)

LUC



A sick part of me feels savage triumph when her face falls. I ignore the twinge of guilt in my chest. She stole my son from me. Lied to me. My head is on the chopping block because of her.

But I still can’t help but fuck her brains out.

She looked beautiful with the black collar wrapped around her little throat. It was always a fantasy of mine—to take a woman and wrap her throat with something that marked her as mine. Slap cuffs on her, tie her to four corners, spread that pink pussy apart, and fucking go to town.

My eyes drink in her creamy-white skin, her nipples a deep pink, her pussy spread open for my cock that refuses to go down. Long waves of honey-brown hair cling to her shoulders, her lips. Her eyes are widened with a little fear, and they keep flicking to my hands, as though I’m going to throttle her with them.

“POLICE!”

What the fuck?

A vicious pounding on my front door follows the sound of the sharp voice. Claire’s fingers clench the arms of the chair, and a brief look crosses her face that I don’t fucking like: relief.

“This is the RCMP. Open up! We have a search warrant!”

My hand shoots out, snatching Claire’s wrist.

“Ow—what the hell—?”

“I know what you’re fucking thinking, but it’s a bad idea.”

Claire bites her lip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jesus, she’s a bad liar.

“Johnny and I can get to you wherever you are. If you tell them I took you against your will, Johnny will find and kill you. I won’t be able to stop him.”

Her face, flushed from sex, quickly pales. “I won’t.”

“I mean it, Claire. I don’t want my boy to grow up without a mother. Stay with me, and you’ll be safe.”

Her eyes flash. “So I’m just supposed to stay with you whether I like it or not?”

“Yep.”

“POLICE! I’m giving you ten seconds to open the door!”

Fucking jackass.

I lift her from my lap and she practically sprints upstairs to the bedroom to change her clothes. I pull up my slacks, tucking my wet dick in my briefs. Then I walk down the hall and open the door.

I have a brief glimpse of a tall, wide-shouldered cop dressed in plainclothes before he buffets me aside, his blue friends trailing in after him. He shoves a piece of paper in my face and I resist the temptation to bat it out of the way.

“I have a search warrant—”

“I can see it.”

“Step aside.”

Jesus Christ, I fucking hate cops. I know. A mobster who hates cops. It’s a cliché. This guy makes flames rise in my chest. Something about him screams “scumbag” more than the average cop. I hate everything about him, from his thinned hair plastered on the top of his head to the black leather shoes that look immaculately polished, as if the dumbass is about to join a cocktail party. Everything about his appearance looks too perfect—it comes off forced—like the tie knotted at his throat. I can see his flesh pinking around his neck.

“Are you Luc DeMarco?”

“Yes, I am.”

His features harden almost instantly and his nose wrinkles with disgust.

“Where the fuck is Claire?”

Whoa. What the fuck is his problem?

My face tightens. “She’s upstairs, changing.”

I study the way his face flushes with an ugly color the moment I say that.

He turns away from me and bellows to the cops stomping around my house. “Get upstairs!”

But there’s no need. Claire suddenly appears at the top of the landing, looking confused at the noise. She just barely managed to slip on a summer dress that rises a few inches above her knees.

“Claire!”

The douchebag who waved the warrant shouts her name. His face releases tension, smoothing out as she quickly descends the steps. Her tits bounce heavily as each foot lands on a step, and I have to fight against the twitch in my cock. She is goddamn beautiful. Something in my chest tightens and releases.

Douchebag rushes to her side the moment she lands on the floor and wraps an arm around her shoulder. In slow motion I watch his fingers clasp her shoulder and slightly stroke her skin. His mouth opens and he says her name with a caress in his voice, and I’m standing right here. I don’t give a fuck that he’s a cop. I’m ready to wrap an arm around his neck and choke the asshole.

You just got out of jail.

I force myself to calm down. I’m no good to my kid in jail.

But if he weren’t a cop, he’d already be on the ground, bleeding and begging for his life.

I take a few swift strides forward, ignoring the look of venom he sends my way.

“Take your fucking hands off my woman.”