Page 25 of Sexting the Bratva Beast
I’ll talk all night if I can sit here and feast my eyes on her gorgeous body. Besides, I want to learn everything there is to know about Cartier Black.
Another first.
My usual motto is ‘love ’em and leave ’em’. It has always worked for me … until now.
“The cocktail that the mixologist made for you.” Maybe the experience has been playing on her mind all evening because her expression is suddenly serious. “Did you know that’s what he would make?”
“I’ve visited before. Different bartender. Different cocktail. They mix the drink to fit whatever vibes they get at the time.” The intensity of her gaze doesn’t relent. “It was sweeter than it looked. But still potent.”
She chews her bottom lip. “Is that how you want people to see you? As a dark soul? Someone to be feared?”
“You’re not afraid of me.”
She smiles and looks away, focusing on the view through the window. “I was when I first met you. Just a teensy bit.”
It didn’t stop her texting Mika about what she wanted me to do to her.
“And now?”
When she turns her gaze back to me, her pupils are enlarged, gorging on the green and amber flecks of her hazel eyes. “Now, I think that you wear the bad boy rep like a warning sign. Back off or else.” She pauses. “Maybe it’s convenient. Like an alpha wolf scaring off any other males who get too close. The blood-red cocktail simply added another layer to your armor, and I think you secretly enjoyed it.”
My chest tightens. I’ve known Cartier for less than twenty-four hours, and somehow, she understands me more than most people I know outside of family. I don’t know how I feel about this. Part of me is flattered that she sees past my cock and my tongue. I’m not averse to being used for my body, especiallywhen the user is the most drop-dead gorgeous woman I’ve ever met.
But… My entire life, everything that I was raised to do for my family, everything that we stand for is based upon my reputation. I’m the one Leonid calls upon when threats need to be made clearer, when the time for talking is over and blood needs to be spilled, whenever a ‘kill or be killed’ situation arises. Sure, Leonid isn’t flawless. But he had always had to control the killer instinct, learn to balance it on a knife edge to maintain the respect of the foot soldiers that we employ.
I, on the other hand, never needed to cultivate their respect. I enjoy the fear behind their eyes when I’m on a mission to destroy an enemy with a death wish. Some adrenaline junkies get their kicks from fast motorcycles and skydiving. I get mine from that moment of pure, unadulterated fear in the enemy’s eyes when they know that they pushed me too far.
If I lose that reputation, where does it leave me?
If Cartier ever finds out that it runs deeper than she thinks that this is who I am, that killing is in my blood, where does it leave us?
“No one has ever compared me to a wolf before. I’ll take it.”
“Do you always deflect questions that you don’t want to answer?” Her voice is soft, sending pulses of desire right through me.
How can a voice have that effect on a person? Or is it hitting the spot because I already know what her body has to offer? Either way, I’ve buried the original question beneath the lust pumping through my veins.
“How do you know the mayor?”
Bam!I wasn’t expecting that one.
“He and his wife are close friends of my parents.” That’s the safe answer.
“Are the rumors true?”
“Depends on which rumors you’ve heard?”
Fuck!I’m not ready to lose her to a reputation cultivated by necessity. I never thought ahead when I was doing what needed to be done to keep the Ivanov family on top. It never mattered before. But this is going to sting like a gigantic fucking hybrid wasp if she wants out before I’ve even gotten to know her.
“Something about a severed hand in a box.”
“Would it bother you if I said that it was true?”
She’s still here. That’s what I tell myself when I peer into her eyes, praying that she’ll hold onto the alpha wolf image instead. She isn’t running away.
Yet.
She inhales deeply. “I don’t know. I heard something else at the shelter.”
