Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
“Fuck,” I grunt, heading for my bedroom door.
I know this is the stupidest thing I could do. I’m supposed to be loyal to the Sokolov Bratva, not my hunger. I’m especially not supposed to kick down the door while my brother and his wife-to-be are having sex for the first time. Yet, with each step, I feel more confident. This hunger deep within tells me this is the right thing to do—the only thing to do.
As I pull open the door, my head is rushing. Typically, my mind is a battleground of code and ideas and, sometimes, the bad things I’ve done to keep this Bratva going. I’ve never done anything evil, but I’ve hurt people. Maybe they deserved it, but still. I’ve never wanted to harm my older brother, not seriously, anyway.
That’s changing now. I can’t stop thinking about Mila with Dimitri, their bodies intertwined, grinding together in a way that makes me feel so sick I think I might puke. The idea of them together makes me want to hurt something. If I see them, what then? I love Dimitri, even if he can be a cold bastard. I don’t want to hurt him, but I can’t let anyone else touch her, either.
I turn down the hallway, my fists clenched at my sides. Then I hear Dimitri’s door open. Instinct sends me partially down the nearest hallway. I press myself against the wall, my heartbeat loud in my ears, listening for a snatch of conversation
or … Hell, I can’t pretend I’ve got a plan here.
When Mila walks past me, she’s alone. Her eyes are red, as though she’s been crying. What the fuck? What did Dimitri say to her? What did he do? I can’t imagine my brother doing anything to hurt an innocent, especially a woman, but I’m sure her eyes were red. Instead of turning toward Dimitri’s room, I leave the hallway and go the same way Mila did.
I catch up with her on the staircase. She turns, looking up at me. My rod gets stiff right away. The top part of her bathrobe is slightly open, revealing the shape of her round, plump tits. I walk down the stairs to stop staring at her because I have to.
“Why are you crying?” I say.
“I’m not.”
“Why were you crying then, smartass?”
“Just …” She shivers. “He says he doesn’t want this, but what about Drake?”
“Who’s Drake?” I ask.
“My brother.” She adjusts her bathrobe, maybe because I keep glancing at her body without meaning to.
“Wait, slow down. Dimitri said you don’t have to be together?”
Mila shakes her head. “He said he doesn’t want this, and if it were up to him, we wouldn’t ever get married. He also said I can have a comfortable life here and would have the best of everything. I was so stunned that I didn’t even mention my brother. What will happen to him? Will I ever get to see him if I do marry Dimitri?”
“Dimitri said he doesn’t want to marry you?” I ask, my head swimming.
“Yeah,” Mila replies, “but I don’t see how we can stop this. My dad said he and your dad arranged it before …” She pauses, giving me a searching look as if she wants to see the effect this has had on me. With her so close, her scent moving around her, her heat screaming at me, I can’t think about anything else. “I don’t see how we can back out of that. We’ve got three weeks to get married.”
“Or find a way out,” I growl.
Her mouth falls open. That’s a bad idea. It activates the hunger in me even more than it already was. My balls feel like they’re swelling. Her mouth was made for me, made for kissing, made for more steaminess. A vivid image of her moving that sweet mouth over my rock-hard cock flits into my mind. I push it away, trying to focus.
“You think it’s a good idea?” she says.
“You don’t want to marry him. He doesn’t want to marry you.”
“You sound surprised.”
“Dimitri does what’s best for the Bratva. He always has, but this is one step too far. Our father went too far. I don’t think he will just go along with this, but he needs time to devise a plan.”
I can hardly keep the relief out of my voice. The corner of my lip keeps trying to twitch upward. However, there’s the not-so-small problem of the deadline. We’ve got three weeks to root out the rats so that if Dimitri decides not to marry her, Nikolai can’t destroy the Bratva from the inside out.
“We’ve got time,” I go on.
“Time,” she repeats.
“That’s all a person needs,” I tell her, taking a step forward, finding it difficult not to grab her body, smooth my hands up, and feel every curvy inch. “We’ll find a way.”