Page 48 of Kidnapped Bratva Toy

“What?” Pietor lifted his brows innocently. “I didn’t do anything.”

“I swear to God,” I sighed, slipping behind the flimsy privacy curtain, “you’re such a slut.”

“Look who’s talking, sweetheart.”

I was thrilled he couldn’t see me, but I knew that if Pietor were there, he would have seen the bright red of my heated cheeks and probably would have wanted to check if I was worked up in other places as well.

I have always fantasized about fooling around in a dressing room, but these rooms didn’t have real doors or a bench, so that was a big no-go.

Hanging the dress up on the little hook that was hastily screwed into the wall, I took off my shirt and leggings, which I’d taken from the duffle bag that miraculously showed up. Jerk.

However, it was clear when I took the dress off the hanger that I was going to have to ditch my bra and underwear, too. The thing was made out of shiny latex material and had been the only one I found that had long sleeves and didn’t have a hem that stopped mid-ass cheek. It went right above the knee even.

Still, there were corset-like laces that ran from the neck to the bottom hem and a zipper closer that split down the front. It was going to be a snug ass fit, and I knew you’d be able to see any bump or ridge beneath the fabric. The strings that wove through the corseted back were laced through to separate stripes of red that stood out from the otherwise all-black dress.

“Oh my God, how am I supposed to…ugh…” I grumbled to myself.

“Need some help, darlin’?”

I looked up at the curtain “door” as I pulled the thing over either arm and called out.

“No! I’m fine. Umm, maybe in a moment.”

I could hear Pietor chuckle. “Whatever you need, love. Just holler.”

My heart skipped over his words again, and I didn’t want to admit how much I appreciated that he was waiting patiently out front—and had called me love.

I zipped up the front of the dress, which had a somewhat turtleneck-like top, and thankfully, the laces were loose enough that I could without issue. But the fabric sagged at my midriff, and I knew that wouldn’t look right.

Turning around to face the mirror at the back, I appraised my appearance. I didn’t know shit about this kind of thing. All I could think was how overtly sexual I looked. I needed assistance with the laces and a second opinion.

“Hey,” I called over my shoulder, “I could use a hand now.”

Footsteps clicked on the fake marble flooring, and just as Pietor reached for the curtain, I heard him whisper, “I bet you could.”

“Pietor!” I turned back to the mirror, speaking to him through the reflection. “I just needed help with the damn laces. Ugh, this is stupid. I look stupid.”

At once, Pietor yanked on the strings, tightening the corset at my waist, and I gasped.

“Oh, I don’t think so, love. This,” he said, tugging on the laces and lowering his lips to my neck, “we’re fucking taking this one.”

He secured me in the dress, then grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the changing room toward the front of the shop.

“Pietor! My clothes! We need—”

“We need to go pay,” he eyed me hard. And then I’m taking you home. There are still several hours before we have to go to the club, and this dress needs to be broken in.”

My core clamped down around nothing, and I let him shove me to the front and pay the clerk for my new dress. He practically sprinted with me to the car after that, and I wasn’t the least bit upset about it.

Damn, I guess he likes it.

However, just as he was starting the engine, Pietor’s phone buzzed against the charging pad in the center console. He looked down, and I saw a frown immediately crawl across his lips and steal away that handsome grin he’d been wearing.

I cocked a brow. “Pietor?”

“Hang on.” He looked up at me as he put the phone to his ear. “I need to take this, but don’t think for a moment I’ve forgotten about my plans for you.”

My cheeks heated, and I smiled crookedly as Pietor dealt with his unexpected call.

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