Page 12 of My Bratva Dom

I can. I fucking can.

* * *

Tina throws her head back laughing, her fingers curling around Marie’s arm.

Her laughter cuts straight through the pounding bass, sliding down my spine like a fucking caress.

Then some asshole slides up to her, one of his hands braced on the bar, his body angled way too fucking close for my blood pressure.

I stiffen.

Don’t move, Antonov.

Tina flashes the guy a grin. Not her usual smug, teasing one. No, this one’s softer… sweeter. Like she’s actually fucking interested.

I grip my glass tighter.

She leans in a little, saying something I can’t hear from this distance.

The guy smiles. Then he leans closer, too.

And that’s when she looks at me, straight across the room, with her beautiful eyes sparkling like she knows exactly what she’s doing.

My jaw clenches.

She’s pushing me again.

Fucking testing me.

* * *

I sit back, hands fisted, teeth grinding, as I watch her play her little game.

She laughs again, tossing her hair over her shoulder, and the asshole’s hand creeps to her waist.

Touch her.

I fucking dare you.

The music pounds, the lights flash, but all I can do is stare like a man on the edge of a goddamn cliff.

I know what’s happening. I know she’s not actually interested. She’s only doing this to fuck with me. But knowing doesn’t help. Knowing doesn’t stop the fire roaring in my chest, the sharp, searing heat clawing through me like I’m about to fucking explode.

Her hand lifts, landing lightly on the guy’s chest, and I see nothing but bright, crimson red.

* * *

I don’t remember standing. Don’t remember crossing the room. All I know is that one second I’m seething at my table… and thenext, my hand’s fisting the piece of shit’s collar and slamming him against the bar.

“Back. Off,” I growl.

The man stares at me wide-eyed, sputtering, but I don’t hear a word over the pounding in my ears. I only hear Tina’s breath hitching behind me, and the booming drum of my pulse.

The guy coughs, gripping my wrist. “What’s your problem, man?”

I smile, cold and dangerous, before slamming him against the bar. The sound of his face meeting the wood is music to my ears. The blood dripping from his nose and mouth, fucking beauty.

“I said…” I rumble fiercely, leaning closer. “Back. The fuck. Off.”

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