In Bed With The MC President
Mila
I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms.
Cathy was screaming, her heels dragging on the floorboards, snot running down her face.
But I wasn't looking at her. I was looking at the man dragging her.
Reaper stopped.
He didn't turn his head, but his shoulders stiffened. The muscles in his back bunched beneath the leather of his cut. He had heard me.
“Does it hurt, Prez?” I purred, tilting my head. “Realizing you were sleeping with the rat while treating me like the villain?”