Page 13 of My Bratva Dom

He stumbles away the second I release him, holding his bloody face and whining like the little bitch he is. But I barely notice. Tina’s standing next to me, stunned and breathless, staring at me in shock and something that looks like… wonder? Fuck… my woman.

“Time to go,” I rumble, grabbing her wrist.

“Wait.”

“No.” I pull her against my side, dragging her through the crowd.

Marie follows without a question, her knowing smile saying it all.

I’m so fucking screwed.

* * *

The second I’ve made sure they’re buckled up inside the SUV, I slam my door shut and grip the steering wheel tight enough to crack bones. Tina’s in the backseat, breathing hard, still pissed. I can feel her eyes on me. And what I read in them is furious, and turned on.

“What the fuck was that, Aslan?” she finally asks, full-on sassy.

I glower at her in the mirror, my teeth clenched.

Her mouth twitches. “I think you’re mad because Iwashaving fun,” she replies.

“Wrong,” I snap. “I’m mad because you keep acting like life is a fucking game.”

“Oh?” She leans forward again, closer than she should be, her sexy voice low and teasing. “And what happens if I keep doing it?” she adds in a singsong tone.

I swirl through traffic, cars honking around us, swiftly park at the curb, and turn to face her.

“You wanna know what happens?” I growl. I reach back, fisting her hair just hard enough to pull her face close to mine. Close enough that our breaths mix. “You keep pushing me,” I growl, “and you’re gonna find out exactly what happens when I stop holding back.”

Her breath shudders and she whispers only for my ears. “Maybe that’s what I want.”

I release her, my fingers dragging slowly through her curls, andturn back to the road. Ignoring Marie’s wide-eyed expression and slack jaw.

Eleven

Tina

The ride home is silent after that. Tense and heavy.

Marie’s quiet next to me. She reached over to take my hand after Aslan’s outburst. But hasn’t said anything.

Aslan’s grip on the steering wheel is tight, his knuckles pale, muscles flexed under the ink lining his hands. His face is a stony mask. I’m trying really hard to calm down and push away images of him shattering a guy’s face for barely touching me.

The SUV glides through Boston’s streets, the city lights flashing past us. I shift in my seat, sneaking a glance at the back of his head.

I don’t know what I expected. For him to yell at me some more? Throw me over his knee for a spanking? Instead, he’s lockeddown. He’s stiff and silent. Like all he had to do was flip a freaking switch. And I fucking hate it.

* * *

When we pull into the driveway, Aslan doesn’t bolt from the car this time. Instead, he steps out first, scanning the dark patches of trees by the gate. When he’s satisfied we are safe, he opens the car door for Marie and me.

“Inside,” he orders in a low bark I don’t even think about defying.

I expect him to leave after that, storm off like he did last time. But he follows us to the front door, standing just behind. When I step into the warm glow of the entryway, he pauses.

“Goodnight,” he says roughly.

Marie gives him a hesitant smile. “Thanks, Aslan.”

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