Page 34 of The Lazarov Bratva

A lull in the music brings Katja closer, and she pants alongside me.

“Another drink?” she calls over the thump of the music.

Just as I’m about to answer, two glasses of ice swimming in red liquid appear before us.

“Drinks, ladies?”

Two men have joined us, clutching a cocktail each in one hand and a beer in the other. One is tall and handsome with dark skin, darker eyes, and sweeping twists on top of his head. When he smiles, it’s dazzling and my heart skips a beat. The other is just as tall, with honey skin and green eyes that sparkle like gemstones. Katja’s mouth drops open at the sight of him, and I giggle.

“Sure!”

I lose track of our empty glasses, clutching my fresh drink and downing it quickly. The chilled liquid is a godsend with the heat of the club, and my tall, dark stranger chuckles deeply at my eagerness.

He leans close to me, his broad chest brushing against my shoulder, and this close, I can see sculpted muscle peeking out from the V of his silver top.

“What’s your name?” he asks, somehow soft yet not needing to yell over the music.

I catch Katja’s eye.

Is this it? The moment where we can be someone new? Where I can take control of one part of our future, free from consequences, before the cell door of marriage crashes closed behind me?

“Amy,” I call back. “And this is my friend, Marie.”

Katja bursts out laughing and leans into her green-eyed man. Within moments, they’re dancing alongside us in time to the music, and I’m utterly enthralled by him. He smells like flowers and wood mingling together, and each time he smiles, my heart lifts.

“I’m Ray,” he says, then he tilts his head to his friend who now has his arms wound around Katja. “That’s Mark.”

“Nice to meet you,” I call. The flow of the music makes me turn, and suddenly, his thick chest is pressed up against my back. His warmth is searing, and thick arms come around my waist. His hands linger just by my hips, and then he grinds into me with a slow roll of his hips. My stomach lurches and excited butterflies escape through my chest.

“What do you do, Ray?” I ask, desperate for a taste of normality outside of my mind.

“I’m a stockbroker,” Ray replies, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “You?”

“I’m a dancer.”

“I can tell.” He chuckles deeply, and tingles spark across my bare, overheated skin. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Katja in a similar situation with Mark.

This really is it.

The music swells louder, drowning out everything else, and I grind back against Ray, closing my eyes.

Only, when I turn my thoughts to the arms around me and the body swaying with mine, Ray vanishes. In his place is Kristof, and my heart jumps into my throat.

His arms hold me close, and each breath is filled with the smells of leather, woody cologne, and a tinge of smoke. When he whispers in my ear, his short beard grazes my shoulder. I press back into his hold and roll my hips, trying to entice a reaction from what’s sure to be an impressive cock. A man like Kristof, there’s no way he isn’t excellent in bed.

I’ve fantasized about it countless times on the end of my own fingers, reaching an end that’s never quite satisfying enough. But here, with the loud music, the bodies writhing around us, and sex in the air, I know I can entice him. If I’m sexy enough, if I’m enticing enough, I can make him mine.

I want him so badly that my core aches and my pussy squeezes with need. Taking a breath, I turn around and open my eyes.

Ray stares back at me with dark eyes, and he slowly licks his lower lip, his hand sliding slowly up my back.

Not Kristof.

Never Kristof.

Ray leans in, his lips an inch from mine, but before he makes contact, something stops me. My first and only kiss was with Kristof. I’m not quite ready to give up that memory yet.

Placing a hand on Ray’s chest, I stop him and smile.

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