Page 12 of Mourning Wings (Whitmore Legacy #1)

11

RONNIE

F uck .

I curse myself for getting so wrapped up in Valeria . What the hell am I doing? Fingering her in the hallway during some twisted game of hide-and-seek? It’s reckless, stupid.

I need to get the fuck away from Valeria . Now .

I shouldn’t be losing focus like this. I’m supposed to be investigating the Whitmores and these damn murders, not playing with fire. I’m here to bring them down, not get tangled up in Valeria’s messy past. Offering to help her dig up information on her lost lover—what was I thinking? She’s a distraction. Every time I get close to her, I lose sight of why I’m here.

But I can’t stop.

The taste of her perfect cunt is lingering on my tongue, and all I want to do is find a room and finish what we started. I’m uncomfortably wet, and I blame the blonde, girly pop bombshell standing in front of me. A light sheen of sweat slickens her forehead, her chest expanding with every breath, her mouth slightly parted, still swollen from our kiss.

I’m screwed.

Valeria looks back at me. “ Are you coming?”

I shake my head to dispel my thoughts. “ Do you even know where you’re going?”

Just as she’s about to answer, a figure emerges from the shadows.