Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
I look at him over my shoulder, hoping he can read how game I am. Kneeling down, I grab the pool table and start to lift.
“Whoa, easy.” He grabs my hips and pulls me away from it. “Seriously, I’m not letting you do this on your own. I’m going to get some help.”
When he leaves, I try to lift it. Yeah, there’s no chance that’s happening in a million years. My lower back, legs, and arms ache just trying. Soon, Mikhail returns with three men. I decide to make myself useful by going to my bedroom and grabbing my laptop. When I return, Mikhail is clearing away one of the desks.
“We’ll move my external storage, servers, and processors in here,” he tells me. “That’ll give us all the juice we need. You can work here.” He nods to the desk. “I’ll work over there.” He nods to the desk in the opposite corner.
We’re alone again now, but I still have to keep my voice low, just in case. “Why do I feel like you’re purposefully seating us as far away from each other as possible?”
“Busted,” he laughs, walking over to me. We’ve both been smiling like loons since we decided to do this. “Let’s face it, Mila. It’s the smart decision.”
I know exactly what he means. If we worked at side-by-side desks, there’s no way we could stop ourselves from acting on the desire pumping through us. He’d slip his hand under the desk, up my leg, and …
“Maybe you’re right,” I murmur.
“Where did your mind just go, hmm, pixel princess?”
“You’re too good at these nicknames … binary, uh, beau?”
“I’ve never been called beau before.”
“Do you like it?”
He’s about to reply when he suddenly takes a step back. It stings me much more than it should. He looks over my shoulder at someone.
It’s Ania, wearing her skin-tight ballet stuff, making her look even thinner, sweat sticking her hair to her forehead. “What’s going on in here?” she asks.
“We’re turning the game room into our computer command center,” Mikhail says.
“Oh, wow. Can I help?”
He smiles at his little sister. “Sure, Ania. You can carry some servers. Be careful, okay?”
“Don’t worry, I won’t drop them,” Ania huffs. “Have I got time for a quick shower?”
“Sure, there’s lots to carry and set up.”
“Okay, great.”
When she leaves the room, Mikhail looks at me with narrowed eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I murmur. “Shall we get started?”
He walks over to me, standing close. Just him being mere inches from me is enough for the lust to reactivate. It’s like an on/off switch inside me; he switches it on anytime he gets close. “Are you lying to me, code … crusader?”
I laugh, touching his chest, loving how powerfully his heart beats against my hand. I love the feeling of making him excited and wild and savage, of being his sole focus of attention. It makes forgetting everything so much easier. “I think these nicknames are getting out of hand.”
“Was I going crazy, then?” he asks. “The way you were looking at me … I thought you had something to say.”
“I guess I noticed some tension between you and Ania.”
He sucks in a sharp breath through tight-clenched teeth, somehow making him look even hotter. Or maybe that’s just the lust in me refusing ever to quit. “I didn’t know it was that obvious. I’m trying to do better. I don’t want to be an asshole, big brother.”
“What’s wrong, then?”
“When I was younger, I tried to convince myself my father was a good man,” he replies. “That involved ignoring every bad thing he’d ever done … which was difficult with a man like Konstantin Sokolov. It’s impossible when there’s evidence of his cheating right there, every day.”
“Where’s her mom?” I ask.
“She didn’t want to raise her daughter, according to my father.”
I try to keep my voice nonjudgmental, at least as nonjudgmental as it can be when we’re discussing psychopathic liars. “Do you think he was telling the truth?”
“I don’t know,” Mikhail says thoughtfully. “I’ve gone back and forth about it. On the one hand, my father was a liar. On the other, I can’t imagine him getting sentimental about a baby out of wedlock, especially a girl. No offense.”
“I’ve been around Bratva men ever since I was a kid,” I tell him. “I know it’s a sexist world.”
“I’m trying to be nicer to her,” Mikhail replies. “She doesn’t deserve me being an asshole. She’s a good person.”
I take his hand and squeeze it. “So are you.”
He looks at me darkly. “You don’t know that.”
I move closer to him, his warmth enveloping me. In the back of my head, those horrible wedding bells are playing, taunting me, making me want to scream. “I know you’ve probably had to do some Bratva things in your life, Mikhail.”
“Bratva things,” he repeats, laughing darkly. “That’s a good way to put it.”