Page 85 of Little Blue

“Book Tok?” He frowns.

“I’d show you, but you took my phone when you took me.”

Ilya smirks. “You dislike reading on a tablet, so I’ve bought you books. Pick one.”

I huff and look down at the books again. Reading the subtitles, I pick the one that most appeals to me—probably because it’s the most forbidden. Something that, despite the reality of my life, I’ve always been drawn to.

“Interesting,” Ilya murmurs as I hold the book to my chest.

“What’s interesting?”

“That of the three you would choose a forced marriage Bratva romance.” The fire in his eyes is enough to melt every shard of ice. My skin feels hot under his study. “It is fitting, though, considering your reality.”

A sharp breath snags in my lungs. Somehow, I manage to wheeze, “Are you saying you’ll force me to marry you?”

“I thought I’ve already said as much.”

The book feels suddenly heavy in my arms. “Well,” I’m about to tell him ‘good luck’ when a light tap on the office door pulls my attention that way.

“Come in,” Ilya calls, and Polina enters with a plate of warm apple pie and already melting vanilla ice cream. She sets the plate on the small table beside the couch where I sit, before she tosses me a little wink and steps from the room.

I look back to find Ilya’s gaze already fixed on me. “You don’t want any pie?”

He licks his lips in a way that has heat chasing the blood in my veins. “I’m saving dessert for later.”

Thirty-Five

Ilya

The girl reads fast. She’s flipping the pages, her eyes alight, pale skin flushed with interest. The things I would give to know exactly the scene that made her gasp, shifting on the couch.

I’m about to demand she come to me so I can push my hands between her legs to discover if she’s wet, when a heavy knock sounds on the door.

I sigh and call, “Come in.”

Irelynn doesn’t even lift her gaze from the page. Her lips are stained an aroused shade of deep pink. I shift in my chair to ease some of the pressure in my hard cock.

Misha strides into my study, his eyes hard on mine. “Popov made contact.”

I stiffen, my eyes moving to the oblivious little woman on my couch. A little pink tongue pokes out to lick her fingertip. She flips a page, her lips parting as her eyes widen.

What is she reading?

My gaze snaps to Misha when I hear him clear his throat. I growl low, the sound the first to call her attention from whatever it is she’s reading.

I’m having second thoughts about the books I’ve bought her.

What the fuck is happening in that book?

Now that I have her attention, I speak. My voice comes out gruffer than I expect. “I need to speak with Misha. Wait for me in our room, yes?”

“Oh.” She notes the page number, before she snaps the book closed. I expect her to walk straight out the door, but she surprises me as she moves across the space toward me. I half hope she’ll give me a parting kiss, and I’m sorely disappointed when, instead, she swipes the remaining two books from my desk. “Thanks—um—for these.”

I feel my eyes narrow at the huskiness in her voice. If Misha wasn’t standing here…

Fuck.

I watch her tight ass sway in her tight leggings as she moves to the door, pivots, and strides across the office to my bar. She swipes the bottle of wine from the cabinet, gives me a cute little wave, and struts out.

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