Page 125 of Bratva's Intern

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Don’t worry. It’ll happen soon enough,” he said. “Go home. I’ve got a meeting. Nothing interesting. Just old men shouting in Russian.”

“Sounds sexy.”

He chuckled, low and dark. “It’s not. Go home, baby. Wait for me. And wear something… inappropriate.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Define inappropriate.”

“Preferably nothing at all, but I wouldn’t object to some of those sexy lace panties you’ve been wearing for me recently.” His voice dipped to a whisper, and he leaned in like he was going to kiss me. Except he didn’t. Just let his breath ghost over my mouth. “Or nothing works just fine.”

My brain short-circuited for a second.

This man.

“Maxim.” His name came out as more of a sigh as he traced the curve of my bottom lip with his thumb. His touch was light, almost nonexistent, but it was enough to ignite a flame that started at the pit of my stomach and blazed its way through my entire body.

Would it be such a bad thing to let him bend me over his desk?

He let out a low chuckle, nuzzling his nose against mine, his eyes never leaving mine. “Go.” His voice was firm but gentle, like always. “I’ll be there soon.”

I stepped back, needing the distance before I embarrassed myself right there on his office floor. “Fine. I’ll go. But I think I’ll stop by the salon first.”

Maxim lifted his brow. “The curls are sacred. You better not cut too much.”

“Don’t worry.” I flashed him a grin. “Just a trim. Gotta look good for the sugar Daddy I never asked for.”

But I seemed to have landed into the lap of one anyway. The iPad had been the first of several gifts he lavished on me. He’d looked way too pleased with himself when last night he gave me a diamond bracelet and I told him thank you, no argument. But I’d not won any so far, and I’d learned he wasn’t going to stop buying me gifts I never asked for. Better to save my breath for an argument I was actually going to win.

As I returned to my desk, I still felt his gaze on me. Possessive. Warm. Like he was undressing me from behind. And maybe that was the real reason I lingered lately. Not because of the way he looked at me but of the way hesawme.

The last two weeks had been a kind of dream I didn’t know I was allowed to have. Late nights in his bed. Early mornings with his fingers brushing sleep from my face. Jokes in the elevator. Arguments about food. Sex that left me shaking. Laughter I hadn’t realized I missed.

It felt like living in someone else’s life.

I wasn’t sure what scared me more—how good it was or how little time we had left before I was no longer his PA.

College would start in less than a month. Then what? Texts and phone calls between classes? Weekend visits when he wasn’t off being mysterious and sexy? Wouldthiseven still be athing when I left?

I pushed the thought aside. No sense in ruining tonight.

Except I didn’t want to go home after all.

Not really.

Not when Maxim was still here, pacing the floors of that glass-walled office like a caged king.

I’d go to the hair salon, yeah.

But then…

I was coming back.

I’d give him his wish and bend over his desk myself.

The hairstylist took longer than I’d expected. Not that I minded, although I kept praying she wouldn’t fuck my hair up. I’d promised Maxim’s cousin he would be the only one to touch my hair, but he was farther away from the office than I liked. She kept gushing about how “adorable” my curls were and asking if I wanted anything to drink while she slid her fingers through my hair like she was massaging secrets into my scalp.

But by the time I stepped out of the salon, it was full-on dark. The air had cooled too, and I wished I hadn’t left my jacket back at the office.

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