Page 24 of The Bratva's Auctioned Bride
“Well, we don’t have much news at the moment, but we are still helping Jaroslav on the hunt. I’ll call you if we get anything. How is it being stuck with the sister?”
“She’s not so bad,” I answer quickly.
“Lucky. Imagine you were stuck with a brat or a snob.”
I chuckle. “Yeah. Lucky.”
“Chat soon, man. Enjoy your evening. Thanks for helping out like this. I know you’re not the biggest Shev fan.”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s no problem. Bye, Mat.”
***
Standing over a blank, pre-made pizza base, I paint tomato paste onto the dough, coating it with red and sprinkling it with garlic. I have the large air fryer preheating.
Behind me, Angelika walks into the kitchen, and I glance over my shoulder at her, looking cute and comfortable in a matching sweatpants and pink crop top set.
I love the fact that the sweatpants in the safe house are all a bit too big for her. She has to tie the drawstring extra tight, and the elastic bunches a bit around her hips. They still hang on her, but it looks cute. I could easily get one of the guards to grab a few pants in her size, but I haven’t offered because she looks so damn sexy in the ones she’s been wearing.
She notices my eyes exploring her outfit.
“Iknow, I’ve been living in sweatpants this week, but hey, it’s not like we’re going out in public or anything. The jeans in the closet don’t even come close to fitting me; they just fall right off. And it’s not likeyoucare what I look like.”
She brushes her hands over the sweatpants and shrugs.
My thoughts tug as I watch her. A small voice in the back of my mind whispers that keeping her here has nothing to do with teaching her anything. I’m fascinated by her. Everything about her draws me in.
I shove those thoughts away, scolding myself for allowing them to surface when it can’t possibly be true that I am interested in a Shev.
“As long as you’re comfortable. Now, are you going to make yourself useful and rinse off the baby spinach leaves? Maybe slice them?” I ask, gesturing toward the packet of fresh leaves.
“Sure, hand me the shrooms too. I’ll do them at the same time.”
In the small kitchen, I’m suddenly hyper-aware of how it wasn’t really built for two people to move around in.
She’s right up against me, her body brushing mine with every turn.
Countless times, in order to reach something, I have to press my body over hers, and sometimes she ducks a little so I can literally hold her in my arms to get to the drawer she’s blocking. The intimacy of it all isn’t lost on me, and certainly not on my building desire.
Her hair smells of mint, which is really pretty on her, but doesn’t seem like her style. I envision her smelling like the ocean. Or like a rain forest.
“Did you use my body wash to wash your hair?” I ask, grinning.
“Yes, sorry, it was all that was there, and I forgot to ask you to order me something else.”
“It smells different on you than it does on me,” I remark, bewitched by her.
“All perfumes and scents smell different on different people according to their skin. Acidity and stuff. Maybe you’re just too acidy.” The glint in her eyes is gorgeous. Mischief playing through them like fireworks.
“Touché,” I laugh. “I’m tooacidy.”
She wiggles between me and the counter in front of me, forcing me to stop sprinkling spinach on the pizza base for a second while she grabs another bowl. Her ass brushes against my cock, and I freeze.
“Sorry,” she smiles, wiggling back to her spot.
“Not the biggest kitchen, is it?” I say, my throat a little tight because my cock is beginning to stir.
“I guess they only planned for one person to cook at a time,” she agrees. “But it’s still nice to know we’re safe anyway.”
