Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
When our panting evens out and our bodies are ready to sink heavily into the mattress, we take a shower together and enjoy one another’s bodies as we lather soap over wet flesh and kiss under a steady stream of water, lost in the hazy afterglow together.
I massage shampoo into her scalp and drag it through to the ends, savoring her soft moans as she softens beneath my touch.
“You know, I’m going to expect this kind of treatment every time I take a shower now,” she says.
And I want to give it to her. The thought hits me out of nowhere, and my stomach tightens with the possibility.
But I push the thought away and rinse off her hair. No point in wanting the impossible.
Afterward, when we’re dried off, we have dinner on the bed while watching Netflix on the TV on the wall. Then I pull her into my arms, and she eventually falls asleep, and her soft, rhythmic breath begins to lull me toward sleep. My sweet bratva lullaby.
But I can’t sleep here with her.
I can’t ever sleep here with her.
Because that will be another line I cross. A line that could destroy us both.
Because this isn’t real.
We’re not real.
It’s hard to leave the bed. To leave her. When everything in me begs me not to.
But I know how sweet her lullaby is, and I can’t risk becoming addicted to it. An addiction like that is a weakness, and now, more than ever, I can’t allow weakness into my life.
Both our lives depend on it.
39
BROOKE
Two nights later, we attend a poker game. Some high rollers thing where it costs a hundred thousand dollars just to sit in. It’s just going to be a bunch of old dudes sitting around playing cards, which sounds boring, and I’m playing arm candy, too, which is getting a little tiresome. But I’m pretty sure I’m going to be rewarded with orgasms afterward, so the night won’t be a complete write-off.
And the early hours of the morning, too, if the last couple of nights are any indication.
Lev likes to fuck.
And he likes to fuck long and hard and right through to the early hours of the next day.
And I’m here for it.
I might have been taken out of one life and forced into another, but I’ve learned when to fight and when to submit, and it doesn’t hurt that submitting to my new life with Lev is proving to be far more pleasurable than painful.
I don’t know what lies ahead when this farce is over.
I don’t dare let myself think about it.
Getting ready to leave for the poker game, I slide on a pair of Betty Saville heels that show off my legs in the short halter dress I have on. I turn in the mirror to check how I look. Hair up. Smoky eyes. Glossy lips.
Exactly how Lev likes me.
Tonight, I’m also wearing the choker he bought at the charity auction.
And not because it goes perfectly with the dress I’m wearing.
Lev likes it on me.
Because it lets everyone know exactly whom I belong to.
40
LEV
We arrive at the poker game. As always, it’s being hosted by Daniil, a good friend of the bratva, at his restaurant in Brooklyn. It’s where a lot of allies meet to enjoy good vodka and conversation over a friendly game of poker. While guns are allowed, it is supposed to be a safe place for all those invited, and one of the true times I can relax.
We arrive after closing time and walk through the empty restaurant to the private bar out the back.
Two of my men stay at the door as security while Brooke and I enter.
It’s a dark room lit only by a few wall sconces, a pendant light over the table, and a backlit bar.
Poker is played around a large round table that seats up to eight men. Tonight, it is full, the only empty seat being the one left vacant for me.
When I walk in, I receive respect from the other men at the table.
Except for two.
I bristle when I see Vlad sitting next to Vadim.
“What is that piece of shit doing here?” I growl to no one in particular.
Vlad sits back and crosses his legs, watching me through his beady eyes as he sucks on a cigar. He looks too relaxed for my liking, and immediately, I feel my blood run hot.
“He is my guest,” Vadim says as if it is nothing.
I narrow my eyes. My uncle has some nerve flaunting how he’s gathering allies against me.
“Let us all enjoy the game,” Daniil says, trying to disperse the tension that hangs in the air like a thick cloud of toxic smoke.
But I’m not about to subject either Brooke or myself to Vlad’s company for the next couple of hours. I know exactly where I would prefer to be, in bed with my fiancée with her legs wrapped around my hips and my name on her lips as I make her unravel beneath me.