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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“Painting?”

“Hmm?” he asks, spinning to face me.

I nudge my head to his boots. “The paint on your boots.” With his demeanor a little shifty, I place the counter between us by walking around it. “Red is a daring color.”

“Yeah. Ah.” He scrubs at the back of his ear with his finger. “My mom is obsessed with it. Ever since she read a new book, she has wanted a red room.”

I swallow the chuckles bubbling in my chest when the first red room that pops into my head is the one in Fifty Shades of Grey. “Is she why you’re here? Are you seeking something for her?”

He shakes his head. “It’s for a girl. Her birthday is coming up. I want to get her something nice.”

“Then you’ve come to the right place. Do you have something in mind?” When he shakes his head, I direct him toward the lingerie section of our store. That is the area most male patrons veer to upon entering. “How far are you willing to stretch the budget?”

It takes almost an hour, but I find the customer the perfect red teddy for the woman he’s trying to impress. His budget couldn’t stretch to matching panties, so I toss them in for free. Don’t look at me like that. As Millie enters to cover my lunch break, I slide a twenty-dollar bill into the cash register.

It is funny how speaking to a stranger can put things in perspective better. He hasn’t formally introduced himself to the lady he’s crushing on. He’s been admiring her from afar for the past couple of months while working up the courage to ask her out.

I told him not to wait a second longer. That we’re not given enough hours to waste a single moment.

When he promised to announce his interest this weekend, a severe bout of double standards hit me.

How come I can encourage a stranger to go for what he wants, but I’m too scared to do it myself?

I shift my focus from my disgruntled thoughts to Millie, who looks just as perplexed. “Are you okay?”

She contemplates for thirty seconds before answering with a halfhearted head bob. “Was that Benji Sutherland?”

“Who?”

When the bell chimes for the hundredth time today, she shrugs off her inquisitiveness before spinning to face our latest customer. Except he isn’t a customer. It is Saka arriving for his afternoon shift.

He looks less high-strung than Millie, almost cruisy.

It’s much easier to loosen the knots when someone else is taking care of your kinks.

“Is Haynes still outside?” I ask while gathering my purse and coat.

I pout in disappointment when Saka shakes his head. “Why? You going somewhere?”

“She has a date,” Millie butts in, waggling her brows.

My insides turn as gooey as a half-baked over-loaded chocolate chip cookie when a delicious accent says, “With me.”

Saka’s relaxed expression alters when I can’t hold back my excitement at seeing Matvei in the flesh in the middle of the day. With Polina playing house with Yev for the past week, our interactions have been only at night. Don’t get me wrong, the darkness of the night adds to Matvei’s cloaked features, but there’s something different about middle-of-the-day exchanges. It’s like nine-to-five workers traveling further than two blocks in the middle of the day. Enticingly fun.

“Ready?” Matvei asks.

Nodding, I meet him near the door and press my lips to the edge of his mouth. “Where are we going?” I ask while drinking in his delicious scent.

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.” He assists me into my coat, curls his hand around mine, then lifts his chin in farewell to Saka and Millie.

The temptation to roll my eyes when the driver steps back from the SUV as soon as he spots me is strong. None of Matvei’s staff are willing to get within breathing distance of me.

“Matvei…” I breathe out slowly when a second after he slides into the SUV after me, a black velvet jewelry box lands on my lap. “You need to stop buying me gifts.”

His disgusted look would convince you I suggested we take a sabbatical from sex. “Open it.”

As the driver finds an opening in traffic, I crack open the box. My teeth rake over my lower lip when I spot the chain inside. It is a necklace in a rope design with a diamond M dangling off one end.

“It’s a thigh necklace,” Matvei announces, removing it from the box.

He loosens the clasp until the opening is wide enough to slip over my heel before sliding it up my leg. Once he has the band sitting just above the split in my skirt, he tightens the clasp, then positions the M so it is just visible.

“If this isn’t marking your territory, I don’t know what else could convince me.”

His smirk has me eager for his next gift. They always come in pairs, and the second is forever the naughtier of the two.


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