Page 46 of Forced Bratva Prisoner

“Oh, I don’t know. I guess—I mean, in my house I was the only one who ever read.”

“Why do you like reading?” My eyes follow the shape of her lips, the rosy color of her cheeks, the way her neck curves down to her shoulder.

“To escape,” she says simply.

“Escape what? Your life of luxury?”

She shakes her head and looks at me as though I’ve lost my mind. Even when she pulls weird faces, her expressive gestures, she is still incredibly beautiful. “Luxury?”

The chef walks in and places our dinner in front of each of us. The rich aroma of lamb stew hits my senses. “Perfect choice for this weather.” I nod in thanks and he smiles then leaves us alone again.

I look over to Sasha and catch her staring at me. She quickly looks away as the air between us fills with tension.

It’s like someone left a live wire pulsing static electricity between us.

She picks up her fork and mumbles, “It looks delicious.”

I watch her as she opens her lips and makes a small bit of lamb, letting the fork drag from her mouth slowly. The things I want to do to that mouth.

“Fuck,” I mutter.

“What?” she asks quickly, sitting straighter and looking nervous.

“Jeez. Why are you so tense?”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” I tilt my head in confusion.

“I thought you swore.”

“I did.” I continue to stare at her. Her green eyes are bright with confusion, then curiously, then her eyes drop to my lips.

Her eyes flare open, and she quickly drags her gaze away. I grin.

She is feeling it, too. Maybe that’s why she’s so edgy at dinner tonight.

While we eat, I think to myself that my entire plan to torture her is not going at all how I wanted it to.

I think I need to change things up, clear my head, maybe just distract myself for a bit.

“Tomorrow we are going shopping,” I say, and her head shoots up, her eyes watching me with suspicion.

“Shopping?” she asks cautiously.

“Yes, you know, when you go to a mall, and you walk around, and you buy things?”

She rolls her eyes. “You want to go shopping?”

“No, you did. So I will take you.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have to explain anything I do.”

She shakes her head and looks back down at her plate.

“I’m done. Thank you. I think I’m going to bed.”

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