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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I return to reality when Jax waves his hand in front of me. “Earth to Nat. You still with me?”

“Yeah, sorry. I was just…” My words trail off when I find the perfect excuse for my blasé response. The stranger from earlier is seated in a low-riding chair a few spots from the bar. He has a glass of whiskey in his hand and the attention of several dancers.

I’d be hurt he ditched me for paid entertainment if his drink didn’t announce it was a recent purchase. There’s no condensation on his glass, which means the ice cubes have barely cooled the liquid no doubt burning his throat as he swallows a big gulp.

When he spots my gaze, he finishes his drink before he stands and moseys to the bar. Even the way he walks is packed with animalistic traits. He’d be extraordinary in bed. How couldn’t he be when something as simple as walking exudes so much zeal?

“Oh, for the love of all things gay.” Jax butts his shoulder with mine, his rapidly surging horniness on par with mine—hot enough to scald. “Please tell me you know his name.”

While focusing on the man who has the attention of the room, I shake my head. “You?”

“No.” My lips curl at one side when Jax murmurs, “But let’s hope he’s lost and he requires a needy yet nurturing sugar baby to show him the way home.” He puffs out his chest, hits me with a playful wink, then greets the stranger with the same flamboyant nature he welcomed me with once he reaches the bar. “What can I get you, sugar?”

I can’t hear what the devastatingly gorgeous specimen replies, but I know his delicious voice is activating every one of Jax’s hot buttons. His lips only move a handful of times, but Jax is a thigh press away from a muscle cramp.

Their interaction makes me green with envy, but I’m freed from its demoralizing clutch only seconds later. “Oh, no, honey. You have things mixed up. She’s booked for the next century.”

I stand straighter when Jax thrusts his hand at me during his last sentence. A mistake about my job title is understandable when you remember I’m standing at the staff’s side of the bar, but Jax is making it seem as if clashing schedules is the reason for his denial instead of the fact I don’t work here.

“However, we have a handful of blondes who’d be happy to service your needs. Merar—”

“I want her,” the stranger interrupts, his curt tone unable to hide his delicious mix of accents. It has a snippet of the Russian twang I’ve grown to love over the past nine months, but that is only the tip of the iceberg of his unique drawl.

My underarms grow warm when he says, “I’ll pay double the going rate.”

“Double of nothing is still nothing,” Jax says with a smile. “What about Helena?”

“Two thousand,” the stranger barters, his eyes unmoving from mine like they were in the alleyway. They’re hot enough to burn and have me fighting not to squirm on the spot.

His stare alone makes me want to “entertain” him pro bono, but I’m curious as to why he needs to pay to announce that. He’s so attractive he’d merely need to click his fingers, and every woman in a five-mile radius would claw at each other to reach his feet first.

Even the dancers he dissed only minutes ago hover close to ensure he can’t miss the gaga eyes they’re hitting him with. He’s wanted—very much so—but he only appears to have eyes for one.

Me.

“Two thousand?” Jax chokes on his words before his expression switches from shocked to suspicious. “I thought you only wanted a lap dance?”

“I do.” Fuck me. He shouldn’t be allowed to smirk. It does insane things to my insides and causes several women to wobble in their stilettos—myself included. “I’m just willing to pay whatever is required to ensure she does it.” Again, his eyes bore into mine, making me as feverish as the temperament of his next two words. “Three thousand.” He waits for my fleeting gaze to hold his before adding, “And all you have to do is dance.”

“That’s generally how it works around here,” Jax murmurs, skeptical.

I know little about this industry or if it’s legal in this country, but the stranger’s last barter instantly flipped Jax’s mood. He goes from treating him like a celebrity to a blood-sucking leech in under a second.

“I think it’s time for you to leave.”

As Jax motions for a bouncer to join us at the bar, the stranger murmurs, “Four thousand, and you can keep your clothes on.”

I shift my eyes from a pair as unique as his voice—not quite blue or green but not gray either—to Jax when he murmurs, “Once again, that is the norm around here, officer.”


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