Page 7 of Tarnished Tyrant (Zhukova Bratva 1)

“Are you going to be sick?” he asks.

I blink up at him, shocked by how close he is to my face.

His hands smooth down my arms. “If you’re going to throw up, I’d like to know.”

“No,” I rasp, swallowing audibly. “I’m okay. I’m—”

“You’re having a panic attack,” he says. “You’re not fine.”

I sag in his grasp. “I hate flying.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because I need the money,” I say. “I’m headed to see a big client of my company. My boss abandoned me to handle this trip on my own, and the client is apparently a huge asshole, so I’m stressed and then this goddamn plane keeps hitting goddamn turbulence, and I just need for my goddamn brain to be goddamn quiet. I need to figure out how to turn my thoughts off so I can—”

Suddenly, Handsome Stranger lifts me onto the sink, steps between my legs, and presses his lips to mine.

And my entire brain goes dead silent.

His mouth is soft and his body is hard, and I can’t think about anything except the fact that he is touching me. Kissing me.

Holy. Shit.

His tongue slides along my bottom lip, and I slowly open my mouth. His hands curve up my back, pulling me closer to him as his tongue probes into my mouth. I moan like—shit, what did that one boyfriend of Mom’s used to call it? Oh, yeah—like a bitch in heat.

The self-aware embarrassment cuts through everything and I jerk away from him. I clap my hand over my mouth and stare at him, eyes wide.

His eyes aren’t wide, though. They’re perfectly normal. Perfectly gray.

“What was that?” I gasp.

“Spontaneity,” he says. “Did it work?”

I don’t need to glance down to know my nipples are very much visible through my thin cotton shirt. And there’s moisture between my legs.

Did it work?he asked. Duh, it worked. It worked so well that I’m not sure any other man will ever get me to “work” ever again.

I swallow and nod. “Yeah… Um, thanks for that. I guess. I needed that. And a kiss is better than a slap, so—"

“Why would I slap you?" He tilts his head to the side. I wish I had run my hands through his hair while I had the chance. It's golden brown and falls over his forehead like silk.

"I don't know. Like in movies? To break me out of my panic?"

"Is that the only reason you think I kissed you?"

God, I hope not.But I can't say that. Can't admit to wanting this stranger. I barely even know him, for crying out loud.

My face is hot and flushed. He reaches out and swipes his thumb over my cheek. "Am I making you nervous again?"

"You can't just talk to people like that!"

"Like what?"

"Being so… honest." I realize how ridiculous it sounds as soon as the words are out of my mouth. "I mean, like, asking people these kinds of questions. I don't even know your name."

"Nikolai."

I shift in the sink, desperately aware that he is still standing between my thighs. "Oh. Um. Hi, Nikolai."

---