Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
“Don’t fucking call me bitch.” Her words were low and angry.
Lance tugged her back against him, this time not stopping as she’d done but making damn sure she was against all of him and experiencing all he offered. He also shifted to the left, keeping her out of Michel’s direct line of sight.
“Fuck you, bitch. That hurt.”
The red mark on his head had his men snorting even as they tried without success to keep it contained.
“I’m going to kill you.” Michel’s accent had thickened.
“No, you’re not,” Lance warned. “I told you she wasn’t a whore but my girl. You’re the one who insulted her. And in doing so, insulted me.”
“You didn’t say anything.”
He tightened his grip on Jasmine’s hip. “Trust me, I will protect my woman when she needs it. She is more than capable of handling herself.”
“I said I was ready to meet. Why are you all still out here?”
Dusan brushed by the men and glared at them all. Then he paused and looked once more at his son.
“What the fuck happened to you?” he demanded. It was obvious he was unsure how to process what he was seeing.
“He called my woman a bitch one too many times.” Lance flexed his grip along Jasmine’s hip, needing her to remain still. Oh, and quiet. Definitely quiet.
While unsure on how the father would react to an assault on his son and knowing his ass was in deep shit if he lost progress on this case because he was protecting someone, he didn’t care. Dusan looked at the woman against him, one hand pressed tight to his chest and the other by his back pants pocket. Lance had his arm around her, protective. Possessive.
“I like you, Lance. It is good for my boy to learn to mind his mouth and learn that not every woman he sees is one of his crack whores.” The man strolled toward them, eyes roving over Jasmine.
“What is she into?”
“She is here and can speak for herself.”
So much for her remaining silent.
He flexed his fingers in warning. Smarting off to the son was one thing. To Dusan? Not smart.
“Be quiet, woman.” Dusan narrowed his gaze at her.
A derisive snort left her and she shook her head. “If this is the one that you kept leaving me for all those nights, then the two of you can fucking suck each other for all I care. I’m not going to be talked to by a man who has cops sniffing around his operation and is too fucking stupid to know.” She shoved Lance’s arm from her and got two steps before Dusan grabbed her.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
Lance’s bellow of protest was silenced as he watched all the color drain from Dusan’s Slavic features. All his men were statues, hands poised on their weapons.
Jasmine didn’t even flinch from the beefy hand gripping her arm in what had to be a bruising hold. “My own man grabbed me and I beat his ass with an ASP, what the fuck do you think I’m going to do when a human trafficker grabs me? Let me go or there will be a hole in you no one can fix. You’ll bleed out before your men can muster their unsurprisingly few brain cells and get you to a hospital.”
Well fuck, it may be more than the undercover op that is over. I could be about to lose my life. Lance waited for a moment to make his move.
Jasmine didn’t blink or take her stare from the pale blue one holding hers. The anger that had burned in that gaze began to morph into respect and amusement. Then it came, the barest of lip twitches.
“You know of me.”
Yes, you slimy piece-of-shit motherfucker. Of course I know you. I know all about you and what it takes to impress you.
She lifted an eyebrow and looked down her nose at him, even though he towered over her. “Of course I do. Anyone who wants to stay alive in this area knows you and your men.”
He grinned and shifted only to freeze when she pushed forward with the nose of the Springfield Armory Hellcat Compact she held against his femoral artery.
Jasmine clucked her tongue. “I said I know of you. Nowhere in that statement does it mean I trust you.”
“Lance. Tell your woman I won’t hurt her.” Dusan grinned and, honestly, she was a bit more concerned by that then his previous anger.
“Baby?”
Lance moved up beside her and hooked a finger in her belt loop before tugging. She appreciated how he didn’t block her shot, and she was sure her detective was ready to draw down as well.
Wait. He’s not mine.
Fuck.
Dusan continued to smile even after Lance had pulled her back, settling her against his chest, still giving her a shot if it became needed. She waited and Dusan looked back at his men. “It has been so long since someone has gotten the best of me.” Back to her. “You need to come with me and tell me how you know of me. Perhaps I have work for you in my organization.”