Read Online Ford: The Dudnik Circle Book 1 by Esther E. Schmidt - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Esther E. Schmidt
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kiss.
Fuck. Me.
Automatically, my arms circle her waist and pull her against my body. Insanity ignites inside me again and I just let it ride, not caring or even thinking about her actions. I intend to take full advantage of this moment. Her lips are like velvet touching mine. Sliding my tongue along her bottom lip, she opens and lets her tongue fight with mine. Every stroke and swirl heightens my desire to strip her right here and bury myself inside her hot, wet heat.
Her hand slips into my hair and tightens to a fist, allowing me to take her mouth the way I would love to take her pussy. Hard and rough. My hand slides to the front of her silky dress, tracing the edge where her lush breast is hidden.
“Excuse me.” An annoying voice dares to interrupt what I’ve been craving for the last few days. A taste of my Angel .
Regretfully, I pull my lips away and growl, “You’re excused, now fucking leave.”
Hearing her sweet chuckle against my chest makes me pull her even tighter against me.
“Excuse my over-protective man here,” she says, her voice practically humming with pleasure. “He rarely gives me time to breathe; I’m surprised he let me go to the meeting. Isn’t that right, Lapochka ?”
Lapochka. A term of endearment…that’s how she’s addressing me now?
My gaze lands on Filippov, the fucker who interrupted us, and anger boils in my veins. Keeping my Angel close to me and with that as far away from the fucker, I all but pierce him with my gaze.
“You’ve made a huge fucking mistake by going after my woman.” Before I can threaten the fucker some more, he interrupts me.
He dares to take a step closer. “She isn’t your woman, Ford. The Rybin Gang is mine.”
I tip my head back and bark out a laugh. Sliding back to lock eyes; I let him know there’s no fucking humor in my words to come. “That right there, fucker, shows your lack of intellect and fucking respect. Back off. Or let me rephrase that in the way you told my woman…take my word for it or I’ll take your fucking life. Am I clear?”
I feel Justice’s body freeze against me. She’s probably wondering how the fuck I knew what he wrote to her. Before the fucker can manage a reply, I turn and guide Justice to the bar. Afon is standing half way with two drinks in his hands.
Condensation on the glasses indicates he’s been standing there awhile. Smart fucking move not to interrupt.
“Afon.” I nod in appreciation and thanks.
“Ford.” He lifts his chin and hands Justice one of the glasses.
My arm is still wrapped around her waist. She doesn’t make any attempt to step away. It feels as though the weight of a stone has been lifted from my chest. Even if she’s doing this to avoid Filippov, I’ll make damn fucking sure to enjoy every fucking second of it.
Besides that, the reason I walked up to her… the fury of seeing Afon’s hand on her, is the disturbing rumor that Yegor told me an hour ago. I know if I tell her, she’s going to close up and dismiss me so instead I focus on Afon.
“Did you hear Filippov might be connected to the snuff movies? Word has it he’s offering his property for the shoots.”
My woman freezes under my touch. Afon’s upper lip curls in a snarl. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“See what your computer guy can dig up. Here,” Reluctantly, I take my hand from Justice’s waist and reach inside my jacket to grab a pen and a piece of paper. After writing down Abram’s number, I hand it to him. Tucking back the paper and pen, I wrap my arm around Justice and she settles back against my body.
“Abram’s our intel guy. Tell him I want two brains on Filippov to track down a solid connection to the property. Let’s see if we can have some hard intel before the meeting is over so we can kill the fucker.”
Afon pulls out his phone. “Thanks, Ford. I appreciate it.”
I’m hoping that smooths things over enough for what I’m about to say. “Trust me when I say I won’t
Fuck. Me.
Automatically, my arms circle her waist and pull her against my body. Insanity ignites inside me again and I just let it ride, not caring or even thinking about her actions. I intend to take full advantage of this moment. Her lips are like velvet touching mine. Sliding my tongue along her bottom lip, she opens and lets her tongue fight with mine. Every stroke and swirl heightens my desire to strip her right here and bury myself inside her hot, wet heat.
Her hand slips into my hair and tightens to a fist, allowing me to take her mouth the way I would love to take her pussy. Hard and rough. My hand slides to the front of her silky dress, tracing the edge where her lush breast is hidden.
“Excuse me.” An annoying voice dares to interrupt what I’ve been craving for the last few days. A taste of my Angel .
Regretfully, I pull my lips away and growl, “You’re excused, now fucking leave.”
Hearing her sweet chuckle against my chest makes me pull her even tighter against me.
“Excuse my over-protective man here,” she says, her voice practically humming with pleasure. “He rarely gives me time to breathe; I’m surprised he let me go to the meeting. Isn’t that right, Lapochka ?”
Lapochka. A term of endearment…that’s how she’s addressing me now?
My gaze lands on Filippov, the fucker who interrupted us, and anger boils in my veins. Keeping my Angel close to me and with that as far away from the fucker, I all but pierce him with my gaze.
“You’ve made a huge fucking mistake by going after my woman.” Before I can threaten the fucker some more, he interrupts me.
He dares to take a step closer. “She isn’t your woman, Ford. The Rybin Gang is mine.”
I tip my head back and bark out a laugh. Sliding back to lock eyes; I let him know there’s no fucking humor in my words to come. “That right there, fucker, shows your lack of intellect and fucking respect. Back off. Or let me rephrase that in the way you told my woman…take my word for it or I’ll take your fucking life. Am I clear?”
I feel Justice’s body freeze against me. She’s probably wondering how the fuck I knew what he wrote to her. Before the fucker can manage a reply, I turn and guide Justice to the bar. Afon is standing half way with two drinks in his hands.
Condensation on the glasses indicates he’s been standing there awhile. Smart fucking move not to interrupt.
“Afon.” I nod in appreciation and thanks.
“Ford.” He lifts his chin and hands Justice one of the glasses.
My arm is still wrapped around her waist. She doesn’t make any attempt to step away. It feels as though the weight of a stone has been lifted from my chest. Even if she’s doing this to avoid Filippov, I’ll make damn fucking sure to enjoy every fucking second of it.
Besides that, the reason I walked up to her… the fury of seeing Afon’s hand on her, is the disturbing rumor that Yegor told me an hour ago. I know if I tell her, she’s going to close up and dismiss me so instead I focus on Afon.
“Did you hear Filippov might be connected to the snuff movies? Word has it he’s offering his property for the shoots.”
My woman freezes under my touch. Afon’s upper lip curls in a snarl. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“See what your computer guy can dig up. Here,” Reluctantly, I take my hand from Justice’s waist and reach inside my jacket to grab a pen and a piece of paper. After writing down Abram’s number, I hand it to him. Tucking back the paper and pen, I wrap my arm around Justice and she settles back against my body.
“Abram’s our intel guy. Tell him I want two brains on Filippov to track down a solid connection to the property. Let’s see if we can have some hard intel before the meeting is over so we can kill the fucker.”
Afon pulls out his phone. “Thanks, Ford. I appreciate it.”
I’m hoping that smooths things over enough for what I’m about to say. “Trust me when I say I won’t
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