Page 16 of Precious Hazard (Perfectly Imperfect #11)

“For now. Soon, hopefully, much more than that.”

In a flash, my brother closes the distance between us. A menacing growl leaves his throat as he reaches past me and fists the front of DeVille’s shirt.

“ Sljamu nalickani! ” Drago snarls.

“Christ!” I throw the flowers to the side and wrap both my arms around one of Drago’s, trying to yank my brother off DeVille.

But Satan uses that to his advantage, shooting out his own arm to wrap his hand around Drago’s throat. “Get your fucking paws off me,” he hisses.

The two end up in a deadlock, holding each other at arm’s length.

My head ping-pongs from my brother to my “boyfriend” and back.

These guys have been silently waging a cold war ever since Arturo tried to meddle his way into Sienna’s marriage to Drago.

Going by the murderous expressions on both their faces, that frigid conflict is seconds away from getting really, really hot.

“You’re doing this just to piss me off even more, aren’t you, you fuck?” Drago roars.

“Contrary to what you may believe, the world doesn’t revolve around you, Popov!” DeVille barks back.

“Oh, for the love of God!” I release Drago’s arm and slip between their massive bodies, turning to face my brother while I hook my arms on their anchored limbs.

The result is me hanging off their strained forearms like a ragdoll, with my feet dangling several inches off the ground.

“Stop this! Let go, both of you!” I yell, hoping my weight will make each of them drop their grip.

“No!” The two voices erupt simultaneously, rattling the rafters in the entry hall.

Shit. I have no choice but to spit out the words I’d rather choke on.

“Drago!” I shout. Then, when he looks at me, I continue, “Please, stop. I’m… um… in love with him.”

Acid practically floods my mouth.

My brother blinks. His gaze darts back to Arturo, then returns to me. “I don’t believe you.”

“What? Why?”

“You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met, Tara. Drop this fuckery, right now!”

“But I’m telling the truth!”

“Oh yeah? Until a few weeks ago, you were referring to this mofo as ‘that pretentious Italian asshat.’ And now, you’re suddenly all lovey-dovey with him?”

Well, crap.

I open my mouth. Close it. My brain kicks into overdrive, searching for a way to convince Drago. Meanwhile, he keeps on glaring at me.

He needs to believe this farce. Everything depends on my brother never suspecting that I’ve been forced into a relationship with Satan. There’s too much at stake. I won’t let my latest screwup endanger my family. Clean up your own messes, Tara . I repeat the mantra in my head.

“Yes, I am.” Abandoning my useless hold on the men’s forearms, I let go. When my feet hit the ground, I stay wedged between them, giving each a push apart. Not really expecting that my shove would do anything, I’m surprised when both drop their arms and take a step back.

Swallowing the lump lodged in my throat, I turn to face my nemesis. There is a wicked smirk dancing on his sexy lips as he meets my gaze. My legs are heavy as I draw closer and lift to my tippy-toes. I slide my hands upward over his chest and hook them behind his neck.

“I detest you,” I whisper. Then pull his head down and smash my mouth to his.

It was supposed to be a rough press of the lips. Just long enough to convince Drago that I was telling the truth, but not so long that I’d want to puke later. That’s the only outcome I could foresee after sharing such intimacy with Satan.

As always, though, my instincts and intentions prove shitty.

The moment our lips connect, my brain basically short-circuits, as if a hundred and ten volts zip straight through our touch. I’m reduced to nothing but nerve endings. Made to feel… everything.

Blitzed.

The spicy scent of his cologne is pulling me under.

Its faint, earthy notes are driving me insane.

Ravenous. Lustful. Maybe it’s because I didn’t expect a domineering man like him to have such soft lips.

Or possibly because he thrusts his tongue into my mouth at that very same instant.

Surely not because of his strong hands wrapping around my ass and lifting me to be crushed against his hard male body.

My fingers rake through his perfectly swept-back hair, tangling in the silky strands.

He devours my mouth without allowing me a chance to catch my next breath.

My bottom lip gets pulled between his teeth; the sting of the bite is both painful and euphoric.

If I were capable of a conscious thought, I’d be mortified by the needy moan that escapes me.

The kiss is brutal, and bruising, and… dear fucking God… the best I’ve ever—

“ Sunce ti jebem .”

My brother’s loud curse hits me like a bucket of cold water.

I freeze, and then slowly lift my face, separating myself from the most luscious lips in existence. Reluctantly, and with dread at what I might see, I open my eyes. Two espresso-colored orbs stare back at me, a wicked glint shining in their depths.

“Tara,” Drago’s agitated voice roars behind me. “Climb off him. Right. The fuck. Now.”

I grit my teeth. “Let me down.”

“You’re the one clinging to me, gattina .” Smirking, DeVille dips his head to whisper in my ear. “If I didn’t know better, I might believe you enjoyed that.”

Blinking to clear the cobwebs from my mind, I quickly untangle my legs from around his waist and unlock the boa- like grip my arms have on his neck and head. The devil’s hands remain on my ass cheeks as he keeps me plastered to his torso while I slide slowly down his body.

“Considering the stakes, I’m quite invested in the deal we made,” I whisper as my feet land on the polished floor tiles.

Forcing myself to lean on DeVille’s chest, I turn around to face my brother.

“Drago, you really need to stop butting into my personal life. I don’t owe you an explanation for my feelings for my boyfriend.

But since you insist, I’ll have you know all that hate between us ended up being quite a turn-on.

Would you like a demonstration? If you want proof, he and I can just fuck right here in front of—”

“Enough!” Drago growls.

“I’m glad we agree. Now, we have a date to get to, so if you don’t mind…”

“Go wait for your… boyfriend… in the car. I need to have a word with him. Now, Tara.”

“Hey! Don’t—” I start protesting, but a flash of worry in Drago’s eyes makes me falter.

I know that look. It has nothing to do with him trying to boss me around.

Rather, it’s a sliver of strain that all too often invades my brother’s life.

Last year, he wore it for days after I slid off the road and crashed into a tree in the middle of a thunderstorm.

At first, I figured he was pissed about the wreckage, but soon enough it was clear he didn’t give a shit about that.

He was worried about what could have happened to me.

And before he allowed me to pick up my car from the mechanic, I had to endure more than five minutes of nonstop ranting on the dangers of driving.

It was like he lost his mind and was too afraid to let me get back behind the wheel.

I watched the battle he fought with himself before eventually relenting.

And I understood that no matter what, my brother’s fears would forever include losing me.

He might be overprotective and insufferable at times, but I know exactly what it stems from.

And when I see that flash of dread in his eyes, the best thing I can do for him is let him say his piece.

“Fine.” I shrug and scoop the now rather disheveled bouquet of red roses off the floor. Taking a long, deep inhale of their scent, I head out.

My gaze is stuck on Tara as she crosses the hall.

I take in her dark, luscious locks as they cascade like a shimmering waterfall down her back, gently swishing from side to side with the sway of her hips while she heads toward the door.

Swallowing hard, I can’t help but stare at her ass, admiring the way it fills out her skinny jeans.

Christ. I drop my gaze, letting it slide along Tara’s toned legs and all the way to the pair of white Converse All Star high tops she’s wearing.

Each step she takes carries her further away, leaving a trail of crushed rose petals feebly falling onto the marble.

The vision she presents is simply uncanny.

A warrior departing a battlefield, with the blood of her enemies dripping off her blade.

It’s sexy as hell.

Not even two minutes ago, I was confident that I had everything under control.

Masterfully directing this situation. Tara can’t act for shit.

I could read her intentions well before she grabbed my neck and pulled me down to her mouth.

She was utterly incapable of hiding the look of disgust on her face before our lips connected. Not that it did me any favors.

But at the press of her soft lips, I felt like a lightning bolt went through me.

Every cell in my body came alive, charged by a weird form of energy.

The current raced along my veins, tightening each of my muscles.

Everything… everything tingled, as if after years of numbness, life was suddenly coursing through me.

And heading straight for my fucking cock.

The only thing I wanted was to have the aggravating woman in my arms. So I pulled her closer, crushed her against my chest. And kissed her. Momentarily forgetting it was fake.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I’ve never had such an intense reaction to a woman before.

Especially after a single kiss. And after she insinuated the two of us are having sex, I couldn’t get the image out of my head and almost fucking combusted.

I can’t have that. I need this unwanted desire gone.

Being attracted to Tara Popov is simply out of the question.

With significant effort, I finally rip my gaze away from the door she disappeared through.