Make Me (The Fox Family Crime Syndicate, #1)

by Summer O'Toole

first time I turn your sweet ass red with my mark, you’ll be begging for it.”

“Oh baby, I may be crazy, but so are you.

Your pussy is weeping for me.”

Someone is framing me. Someone is killing my people and trying to make me take the fall for it.

It’s her fucking fault. This is all because of her.

She makes me fucking insane. She can’t

do that. I can’t allow her to do that. I spin around.

She spits in my face, and while I wipe it off, my brain empties of every single thought except one:

I think I fucking love this woman.

Hi, I’m Harlow and I let a psychopathic murderer finger me. And I liked it. Oh, and my best

friend? Yeah, she’s one of his victims.

“Fuck, please say something. I need you

to be—to tell me you’re alright.”

“You’re gonna come home with me now.”

“Because I just put this city’s biggest target right on your back.”

“Did you fucking kidnap me?” One sentence I never thought I’d say. “Think of it as protective custody.” His lip twitches in amusement.

“Because I chose you.”

“My family was

under attack. My brother was hit. And I chose to protect you.”

“Cash, please. I don’t understand wha...

“The Bratva thinks I killed their princess. And until I can convince them I didn’t, you will be in danger. They won’t stop until they kill someone I love.”

“Because I chose to protect you over family—the previous most important thing to me—the Bratva will now be after you. They think I took someone precious from them, and now they will try to take someone precious from me.” “So, what now? I’m just going to be locked up in

here with you like some princess in a tower.” “No, baby. You’re a queen.”

“You should probably go to bed before I fuck you

until sunrise on every inch of this counter.”

“If you’re gonna eye-fuck me all morning, you should at least buy me dinner first.”

Cash is in nothing but—fuck me—gray sweatpants.

“You said you wanted to fuck me on every inch of the counter.” “Fuck, it sounds so much dirtier coming off your sweet lips.”

“Keep

making those sweet sounds and I really will fuck you on every inch of this counter.”

“Keep kissing me like that and I mi...

Somehow he seems more relaxed at gunpoint than he was when I asked him to kiss me.

“You know what I find incredible? You don’t even remember me. You were in such a bloody rage that I was an irrelevant detail in the background. A moment that haunts me with

crippling nightmares and constant guilt, and you didn’t even c...

“You’re going to have to be more specific. I’ve done a lot of things that m...

Her hand under mine is trembling, and all I want to do in this moment—and for the rest of my fucking life—is to take that tremble away. Chase away her boogeymen, slay her monsters, settle all her fears.

Except right now, I’m her biggest one.

If putting a bullet in my head would ease her pain, ...

But it won’t, because I’m not her killer. A killer? Sure. But not t...

“Would you believe me if I told you I’m ...

“Why would somebody frame you? I’m sure there’s no shortage of crimes that you’ve actually committed.”

“You’re some Mafia boss—”

“Hey, I’m Irish, not fucking Italian—” “Interrupt me again, and I swear to God, I will put this bullet in your head.”

“And you’ll want the safety turned off.” I wink, and she grumbles.

She doesn’t like seeing me kiss someone else.

Good. I don’t want to be kissing someone else.

“I thought you’d be happy to know you’re not fucking your friend’s killer.”

“We’re not fucking.”

“Oh, but we will be, a chuisle.”

“We’re endgame, baby, and if you don’t see