Page 40 of Sexting the Bratva Beast
Her narrow lips quirk into a twisted half-smile. “If you say so.”
I walk towards the elevator. My knees are shaking, and my palms are clammy with sweat. Not because she told me things that I didn’t know about Andrej, but because she confirmed what I already suspected.
The doors open, and I step inside.
Of course he’s a playboy. I knew it the first moment I saw him, but I wanted him anyway. And what about all the things he said to me?You’re mine now, Cartier. I’m never letting you go.
The elevator panel dings when it reaches the bottom, and I’ve barely registered the smooth descent.
I step out into the basement parking lot without thinking because I left my head back in Andrej’s apartment with Ivanathe witch. So, when my head almost collides with the chauffeur’s chest, my hands instinctively flutter over my heart.
“Mr. Ivanov left the car at your disposal, ma’am.”
He’s tall. I mean, I’ve only seen the back of his head through a glass partition, and it’s impossible to determine anything from the back of someone’s head, especially when you’re on all fours and being fucked from behind. But the top of my head barely reaches his shoulders.
He takes my silence for acquiescence and gestures to the waiting vehicle.
I follow him. My brain is finding it difficult to multi-task right now, and I’m running even later after my conversation with Andrej’s apparent bodyguard. I climb into the back seat and ask the driver to take me to the women’s shelter.
My clothes are no longer in the back of the vehicle. Thank heavens for the little things. Did the driver pick them up? Or was it Andrej? I have a moment of panic that it might’ve been Ivana, but then I can’t imagine her picking up anyone’s dirty laundry, and especially not mine.
I’m disappointed when there isn’t a trace of Andrej’s cologne in the car. We had sex right here on the seat, but any evidence we might’ve left behind has been erased as if it never happened.
I stare out of the passenger window and pretend that the driver knows nothing. Besides, there are more important things to focus on. Like, why did Andrej leave without waking me up? Why was Ivana really there? I’m still no closer to a resolution when the car pulls up outside the refuge.
I get out and thank the driver.
It feels surreal being driven around the city, and despite my frazzled brain, I know that there’s no point allowing myself to get used to it. This is Andrej’s reality. Not mine.
Mika is waiting for me in the office.
She peers at my clothes and ponders whether she has seen them before, or if I’ve been on a way-out-of-our-price-range shopping spree while she’s been working her ass off alone.
“I’m so sorry,” I blurt out before she can speak. “I’ll take all the night shifts for the rest of the week. For the next two weeks.”
One eyebrow slants upward as her smile spreads. “Let me guess. He ripped your clothes off you in a moment of violent passion and rewarded you with a whole new wardrobe.”
I finally allow my shoulders to relax a little. “Close. It’s a long story.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it. It’ll keep me going through the long, lonely nights of me and my hot new date, the extra-supple, battery-operated, black beauty.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “What am I supposed to do with that vision now?”
“Do whatever you want, Car. Now you know how I felt last night thinking about you and Mr. Bad Boy.”
I lower my gaze. When we got back to Andrej’s apartment last night, it was perfect. Romantic. Sexy. Passionate. But it has been tainted by Ivana’s unprompted arrival.
I feel as if I’ve been dropped from the dizzying heights of euphoria to the dismal lows of anxiety and self-doubt.
What if Ivana was right?
What if everything Andrej said to me was nothing more than an elaborate chat-up line?
“What’s happened?” Mika walks around the desk, leans back against it with her arms folded, and narrows her eyes. “I need you focused, Car, so come on, out with it.”
I tell her about the nightclub and Ivana, omitting everything that took place inside the back of the car and Andrej’s gigantic bed. She can fill in the blanks later from her well-stocked imagination.
When I’m finished, she wrinkles her nose. “Sounds to me like the green-eyed witch is suffering from the green-eyed monster. Didn’t you wonder why he’s single? I bet she warns off any woman who gets close to him because she wants him for herself.”
