Deadly Intentions (The Bobrov Bratva #4) Read Online Shandi Boyes

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: The Bobrov Bratva Series by Shandi Boyes
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Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
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If I were any more envious, I’d be green.

With my frustration high, I punch his measurements with more force than needed into a tablet Polina patented. It will advise the ideal size for a blazer jacket that will keep Matvei’s fashion on par with his stellar looks but minus the stuffiness of a suit.

“With your shoulders a little broad compared to the width of your waist, I would suggest a navy-blue Wamba Contour–tailored blazer with off-white pinstripes. Its fit will ensure your date won’t miss your perfect golden ratio.”

“Golden ratio?”

I place down the tablet before kneeling in front of him to secure measurements for a matching pair of pants. “It is the perfect shoulder-to-waist ratio for men. Studies have shown women are more attracted to men whose shoulders are one point six times their waist size.” I peer at him before announcing, “Your shoulders are exactly one point six times the size of your waist.”

An ill-timed smile stretches across my face when he murmurs, “Then why did you run?”

“The study said most women.” I don’t miss his quick inhalation when I place the tape at the base of his crotch before pulling it to his ankle. I don’t give him any room for growth. His cock will be as snug as a bug in a rug, so any increase in crotch size will cause him more pain than pleasure. “I’m not most women.”

“That is the worst line I’ve ever heard.” When I peer up at him, he elaborates, “The whole, she’s not like other girls, is a layman’s way of being unoriginal and bland. If you can’t explain how you became instantly besotted without using the ‘she isn’t like any other girl’ line, you haven’t earned the right to pursue her.”

“Says the man who’s probably never chased a woman in his life.”

My heart kicks out a funky tune when he replies, “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Immaturely, I roll my eyes. “For a suit.”

“For a date,” he corrects, his voice smooth and cultured. “And since the whirl you took with your vibrator while imagining my head between your legs has you owing me far more than the two minutes you shaved off the twenty we agreed to, how about we cut the antics and move straight to the point?” I choke on my spit when he announces without a single quiver, “I want to fuck you. I have since the first time I saw you in the flesh months ago.”

Months ago?

He nods like I expressed my private thoughts out loud. “You fascinate me, but since I can’t pinpoint what it is about you that makes you stand out above the rest, I’m being forced to alter the game.”

I don’t know whether to be turned on or insulted that he sees me as a token on his gameboard.

I snap my lips shut when Matvei responds to my private ramblings for the second time. “Take it as a compliment. Things would be starkly different if you weren’t”—he assesses me without instigating the skin-crawling shudder Vasily’s gawks usually cause—“you.”

After gathering his trench coat and suit jacket from the back of the chaise, he asks, “Do you have what you need?”

Stunned by the rapid shift of our conversation, I nod.

He smiles, doubling the dampness slicking my skin. “Good. I’ll pick you up at nine. I have a meeting I can’t get out of, but it shouldn’t run any longer than a few minutes. Wear a dress. The shorter the better.”

Even shocked, I manage, “I didn’t agree to go on a date with you.”

He angles his head and stares me deadpan in the face. “Did anything I say sound like a negotiation?”

This time, I speak out loud the words I’ve mumbled to myself a dozen times since he arrived. “I’m not a prostitute.” If I were, I’d be married to Bowser and living in a castle far away from the Mushroom Kingdom. “You can’t buy me.”

“Nine,” Matvei reiterates before he breezes out of the changing room and veers past my open-mouthed and wide-eyed boss.

7

NATALYA

“Be warned, Saka, I am five seconds from ramming a tampon down your throat.”

My reply is extreme, but that’s how irritable I’m feeling. It is eight forty-five, and I’m wearing sweatpants, my hair is in a messy bun on the top of my head, and although the contraception I’ve taken religiously since I was fourteen makes my period basically nonexistent, I’m over explaining my womanly issues to Saka.

He’s been played by my “I’m going to bed early” ruse before, but I swear on my grandmother’s life, my bed is the only place I plan to visit tonight.

I haven’t had contact with my father for over two years because I am hiding from a man who thought I could be bought. So as much as Matvei makes my insides bust out a mariachi tune every time he’s near, I refuse to be treated like a commodity.


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