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“I came for you. Then I came in you.”
She grins. “You’re full of yourself.”
“You’re full of me.”
She rolls her eyes. “Good lord, help me.”
I kiss the tip of her nose. The curve of her brow. The corner of her sexy lips.
A groan in the entryway of the apartment makes me stiffen. I push up off her. Hating the fact that I have to pull out. But there’s something big and ugly that needs to be taken care of.
“What was that?” she says, alarm on her face as I rearrange my cock back into my pants.
“A dead man, moaning.”
She scrambles up, fighting her dress. “No! Don’t kill him!”
“He fucking shot you. Point blank.” I start jerking open kitchen drawers.
“God, what are you looking for?”
“A knife. A big, fucking, sharp knife.”
“What?” she shrieks as she stares at me in horror.
I hold up a big cleaver. “This should do.”
Simona makes a squeak, her eyes roll back in her head and she falls to the floor in a dead faint.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
There’s a really bright light in my eyes. I blink. Groan. Ugh.
“Wake up, beautiful.”
“Huh? What?”
Scotch, wearing a worried expression, is leaning over me.
“You fainted.”
“Oh.”
I stretch. That’s when I realize I’m wearing a dress. My legs are bare and cold. I lift my head and look down at myself, puzzled by my attire.
“Take it easy. How are you feeling?”
“Confused.” I lick across my lips. A fuzzy memory surfaces. Then I feel all of the tender places inside of me and my memory comes flooding back. “Wait—”
Scotch pushes my hair back. “Remember?”
“Yes.”
“The knife?”
I nod. “You didn’t chop him up, did you?”
Narrowing those dark brows of his, he says, “Not yet. But I’m going to.”