Junkie (Broken Doll 1)

For the first time in weeks, Miri smiled. The sight was so radiant my breath caught.

Fuck, she’s stunning.

Now that Miri was completely off the poisonous drugs and had gained some much needed weight, I finally saw the woman she was meant to be. Because I felt like a shithead for what I did to Miri at that party, I stopped doing her injections and had my men continue to administer them twice a day. Except now, there was only sterile saline in the syringe. I didn’t want Miri to know I had weaned her off the heroin. She might not be happy about having that decision made for her, especially by me. My men were instructed to prep the “dose” before Miri came into the kitchen. Otherwise, she’d know no powder was added to the spoon and it wasn’t being cooked.

Without another word, Miri settled down beside me, plucked the chain lube out of my hand, and picked up where she’d left off. I could feel the excitement rolling off of her as she worked on the Suzuki.

Watching this gorgeous, delicate girl get down and dirty working on my bike had me on the edge of coming in my pants. It was by far the sexiest thing I had ever seen.

And I wanted more.

8

Miri

“Let’s go for a ride, doll.”

I stood at the sink with my back to Boss as I scrubbed the grease from beneath my nails. My shoulders instinctually tensed and I went on full alert just like I did whenever he was near. Usually, his voice turned my body to liquid, causing me to melt on the spot, but a big part of me was still wary of his intentions. Especially after Boss used me in front of his “business partners” only to turn around and make it quite clear the seduction was act and he would in no way sink to touching someone like me in private.

I cleared my throat. “A r-ride?”

There was a wall of heat at my back and I knew Boss had moved close behind me. Underneath the strong scent of gasoline and the pungent black grease on my hands, I could still smell him. And damn it, despite his shitty behavior, that intoxicating scent worked its way right under my skin and set my pulse racing.

“Yeah, you know,” he breathed in my ear. Goose bumps broke out on the back of my neck and down my arms. “A ride. You, me, straddling a sleek piece of machinery, your thighs pressed up against my ass, your tits against my back, while we tear up the streets.”

Large hands gripped my hips and I nearly bit my tongue in order to resist the urge to push my ass back and grind wantonly against his groin. I couldn’t let him get to me. My response was to calmly rinse my hands and wipe them off before turning to face the intimidating but gorgeous man. One who sent out more mixed signals than anyone I had ever met. I should be pissed at him, tell him to fuck off, but for some reason I was unable to say no.

“Okay. We can go for a ride.” My acquiescence made Boss so happy his blue eyes lit up and his rare smile made my heart skip a beat. But I wasn’t letting him off so easy. “On one condition.”

Boss’s grin faltered and the shine in his eyes became wary. “What condition?”

In a bold move, braver than anything I had ever done—sneaking onto a drug lord’s property, climbing on Boss’s lap in the gazebo, slapping the dangerous man not once, but twice—I took a step forward, close enough for my nipples to brush against the thin fabric of his T-shirt. I forced down my nerves, raised a finger, and dragged it down the center of his chest to stop at the waistband of his jeans. Boss shuddered and I couldn’t hide my smirk.

“Before I get on the bike, you have to tell me your name.”

“My name?” Boss sounded both disappointed and surprised by my question. From the bulge in his jeans, he was hoping for something a little more… hands-on. I smirked at the realization that I affected him so strongly.

“Yes, your name. I hate calling you Boss. It’s so… impersonal.” I moved closer, hooked my finger in his jeans, and rubbed my hard nipples on the rigid muscles of his upper abs. My thighs shook from the intensity of the bolt of electricity that shot from my breasts to my groin. I bit back the urge to rub up against the hard shaft in his pants. “I want to know your name. It’s not a lot to ask. I’ve been here for weeks and I still don’t know anything about you.”

His mouth twisted into a frown. “You know plenty about me, doll. Enough to know I’m not a nice man.”

With my free hand, I reached up and touched the side of his face. My fingers skimmed over the short, soft stubble on his cheeks. When I got to his mouth, I brushed my thumb across the smooth flesh, unable to stop from finding out if they wer

e still as soft and warm as I remembered from the gazebo.

They weren’t. My memory didn’t do them justice. They were even softer.

Boss groaned and the tip of his tongue flicked out to taste the pad of my thumb. “Fuck.” His tone was low and raspy. “You do things to me, Miri. Things I can’t allow myself to get caught up in.”

Boss gently took my hand in his, removed it from his mouth, and lowered it to my side. Disappointment sliced deep, more painful than the night of the party and the gazebo combined. Boss rejected me again.

When would I learn? The man didn’t want me. His body might, but he didn’t.

Humiliated, I tugged for him to release my hand so I could run and hide in my room before the moisture filling my eyes gave me away. But Boss held tight.

“Let go.” I pulled harder. The stubborn jerk didn’t budge. My eyes swam and I turned my head so he wouldn’t see me cry.

Holding tight, Boss wrapped his other hand around mine, to clasp it between his two large hands. Cheeks on fire, I chanced a peek at this enigma of a man. With a small smile, he lifted our joined hands and pressed a kiss on my knuckles, then brushed the short, soft hairs on his chin over the tingling skin.