Page 53 of Sinful Bride

Sofi attaches a penis to an arm. Hazel lands on the face, and Jameson refuses to even touch the thing. Arlo gets somewhat closer, firmly sticking the dick to the model’s navel before whipping off the blindfold. His proud harrumph becomes a choked wheeze of laughter, which earns him a sympathetic pat on the back from Makari.

Mama gets surprisingly closer to the target than anyone else in line. She gasps with surprise when she sees how she did. “So close!”

Arlo wraps his hands around her hips and kisses her neck. “You always know exactly what you’re doing around there?—”

The chorus of fake gagging from all three Chekhov siblings spares us from hearing the rest of whatever he was going to say. Mama blushes bright red, and Arlo laughs as he kisses her.

Sofi clasps her hands together. “And on that vomit-inducing note, why not switch gears into the gifts? Daph, I know there’s a few things you may find… shall we say, useful?”

“Oh, no…” I reluctantly accept the small gift bag she hands me while everyone else fetches their gifts. When I reach in through the tissue paper, my fingertips touch silky lace. “Oh. Oh! Oh, wow.” My face instantly heats. “Is this something I can pull out?”

“It’s something that’ll make it difficult for him to pull out, if you know what I mean.”

“Sofiya!” Mama lightly smacks her arm. “Be a lady!”

Pasha rubs my sides. “Come on, let’s see. Enough foreplay.”

I ease the lace out. “Oh my…”

She wasn’t lying—Pasha instantly hardens under me at the sight of the wispiest lace thong and garter set ever constructed. There are more straps than actual fabric. Dental floss companies would look at this and weep at the artistry.

I hold it up for Pasha to examine. “What do you think?”

“Hmm…” His voice is a raspy, low growl meant only for me. “I think if you wear that, we’ll be on our way to a second child in no time.”

I gulp, suddenly burning up with more heat than my skin knows what to do with. Everyone else is kind enough to pretend they didn’t hear it.

More presents follow. Ties from Jameson, cologne from Mak. Arlo gives Pasha an engraved box of cigars that make him pause and run a finger over the golden hinges, deep in thought.

“One’s for Tatyanna’s birth,” Arlo explains. “It’s a tradition in my family. Another is for your wedding tomorrow. The third is for the day you find out you’re having another child.” He looks to me and bows his head. “If that is something you both desire.”

Pasha is still silent. Finally, after clearing his throat, he gives Arlo an appreciative nod. “Thank you. This really means… Thank you.”

I don’t know what time it is. All I know is I’m exhausted and extremely grateful the wedding isn’t until the late afternoon. Not like I’ll be able to sleep, though.

Pasha closes the bedroom door and heads for his dresser. “The kids are finally out.”

“Who?” I suppress a tired laugh. “Sofi and Mak?”

“Yep. Passed out cold on the couch.” He tugs his shirt off and treats me to a rather tantalizing view of those washboard abs.

If only I had the energy to enjoy them.

Hazel’s name pops up on my phone; she’s just gone home and wanted to let me know she arrived safely. Lev drove her there, and Pasha confirms with a grunt that he checked on Mel and her family as well. Asya and Arlo are in the guest room with Taty asleep in her bassinet there.

Everyone is accounted for and resting for tomorrow.

My body is exhausted.

My mind won’t stop reeling.

This is it. This is my last night as a single woman. Twenty-four hours from now, I’ll be Mrs. Chekhov.

Pasha’s wife.

He climbs into bed with a sigh. “Sleep well, moya plamya. Tomorrow is a big day for both of us.”

I need to ask him. I need to know, before I sink myself into a life neither of us wants.

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