Page 112 of Hidden Empire

Elbowing him in the gut, she waits for him to look at her before speaking. “Did you hear anything, Cole?” Her voice is light and airy with a sugary edge to it, and if I’m not mistaken, she flutters her eyelashes at him.

“Dull buzzing?” he guesses with a bored tone.

With a satisfied grin, she turns back to me. “You’re good.”

“Thank you,” I mouth, slowly backing out of the room.

With the crowd still making their way in, I’m able to slip out without arousing any suspicion. No one watches me, and no one follows me as I skip to the stairs, practically running down them two steps at a time.

I find Ivan first, noting his location on the other side of the long Olympic-sized pool. He hasn't seen me yet, but I’m sure he will. It’s like Ivan and Dmitri have super sonic Jade vision, and they can just sense when I’m around. I kind of love it.

I’d go to say hi to my friend, but he’s not who I’m here to see. After a few more seconds of scanning, I find him, and my mouth falls open.

He’s in the water, swimming from Ivan’s side to the other. He’s not racing, but not trailing slowly either. He’s leisurely coasting, his back and arm muscles flexing with every drawn-out movement. If he were doing a backstroke, I think I might actually faint. Could I see his abs moving like this without swallowing my tongue?

I clench my thighs together, feeling my clit throb against my shorts. Dmitri dripping in water, hardly wearing a scrap of clothing, and fucking glistening under the fluorescent lights is enough to make my body yearn for him.

His arms cut through the water like butter, moving his large form to the end of the pool with a grateful sort of glide. When he gets to the end, Ivan clears his throat from the other side, drawing Dmitri’s gaze. As his brother tips his head in my direction, that gaze swings to me.

A pearly white smile pulls at his lips, and he starts to swim over, heading straight for the side of the pool I’m standing on. Ivan sends me a subtle wink before getting back into whatever conversation he’d been having with the guys around him.

Before Dmitri gets to me, I notice a small group of people in the corner of the room. There’s nothing about them that inherently stands out. Except for the pretty redhead in the middle whose eyes aren’t where they should be.

I don’t know who she is, but I know she’s looking at my man, and she needs to shut her parted lips before I cut them off of her mesmerized face. Dmitri is sexy, obviously, but what gives her the right to notice that? Who the hell is she?

She’s too distracted by my boyfriend to notice me glaring, but it doesn’t matter right now. He’s swimming over to me, isn’t he?

Splashing draws my attention back to the pool, and my mood brightens again when I get a look at him. He’s sex personified, and I have to resist the urge to fan my face. My cheeks are likely flaming, but that’s okay. My man likes my incessant blushing.

Dmitri pushes out of the water, waves whooshing around him and crashing against the stone floor with the force of his action. When he gets to his feet, he takes a few steps forward, approaching me. Water trickles down his abs, drawing my eye to the waistband of his shorts. When I’ve finished ogling him, I look up to find his dark and sexy eyes all over me too. In fact, he isn’t looking at a singular soul except for me.

Good. I hope everyone sees it.

I’m all he sees, and they should know it.

This level of possessiveness is new to me, and it would probably freak me out if it didn't feel so natural. If I could stick my tongue down his throat right here for everyone to see, I would. Why should I feel ashamed of marking my territory? Boys do it.

“Hey, baby,” he greets, keeping his voice low. He’s being cautious, respecting my wishes to keep my brothers away from our relationship. But looking around, none of my brothers or their friends are here. Hallelujah. “Did you skip class to come see me?”

“I might have,” I tease, licking my lips.

Whispers have my ears pricking, and I stiffen.

“You’ve never left class to see Ivan before,” he comments, looking me up and down, noting my tight outfit. “Should I feel special?”

“You should,” I agree. “I’ve never seen you dripping wet before, and I feel pretty damn special right now.”

He leans in closer. “Seems only fair since I’ve seen you dripping wet almost every night this week.”

More whispers, and I crinkle my nose in frustration.

“Are you alright, Krasotka?”

“No,” I say, practically spitting the word. “She’s staring at you.”

He doesn’t move to look. “Who?”

“That girl,” I mutter. “I don’t know her name.”

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