Page 44 of Hating the Bratva

Delaney

I try to focus my attention on Ivan’s conversation with Jacob, the mayor’s son, but my mind is elsewhere. After Alek gave me my outfit for the night and sent me on my way, I’ve been searching for him in the crowd of people. I can’t figure him out. He wants me. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have laid me out on his desk like he wanted to fuck me a few hours ago.

Ivan nudges me, and I snap back to reality to see that Jacob is staring at me.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

He chuckles. “I asked about the big day. I’m guessing you’re looking forward to it?”

I plaster on a fake smile. “Absolutely. The date is creeping up on us.”

One week away. My mom’s voice bounces around in my head.

Ivan nods. “That it is.”

Ivan and Jacob start to talk again, and I am relieved that my part of the charade is over. A waiter passes us, and I quickly grab a glass of champagne from the tray. I lift the glass up to take a drink. And then I see him. Behind Jacob, Alek is standing there, looking like a Greek god in a three-piece suit, but that’s not what grabs my attention. It’s the woman on his arm. That son of a bitch. He brought someone else. She’s pretty, blonde, and perfectly fits in at a place like this. He catches my eye and tucks a hand into the pocket of his suit pants. I look away and take a big gulp of my drink. Just as I do, a zap vibrates right on my clit. Before I can comprehend, the champagne glass slips from my finger and falls to the floor with a crash. A hush falls over the crowd.

“I’m so sorry,” I rush out, bending down to pick up the shards of glass.

Jacob laughs and waves it off. “Don’t worry about it. Accidents happen. Amelia!” He says, calling over a short woman in an apron with her hair up in a bun. She has a small broom and dustpan in her hand. Ivan gently pulls me to my feet so that Amelia can sweep up the mess.

The crowd goes back to chattering, and I apologize again to Jacob, who waves it off again. Ivan gives me side-eye but doesn’t say anything, at least not yet. A waiter comes to replace the champagne glass I dropped, and when I look back at the crowd, I spot Alek with a stupid half-grin on his face. That fucking asshole.

After a few minutes, the panties vibrate again, but this time, it’s more than a zap—no, this time, it vibrates long and hard right on my most sensitive spot. I grip the champagne glass tight and bite down on my lower lips to keep from moaning. Wetness pools between my legs as I try my best to appear normal. I wave a hand over my face, trying to cool myself down.

“Are you hot, Delaney? I can ask Amelia to turn down the temperature,” Jacob offers.

Ivan looks at me with narrowed eyes, no longer amused by my strange behavior. Just as I think my legs are about to give out, the vibration stops.

I clear my throat. “No, I’m okay. I think I’m just under the weather.”

I’m going to kill Alek when I get my hands on him. Why does he find it entertaining to torture me while he’s on a date with someone else?

Ivan and Jacob wrap up their conversation, and I hold Ivan’s arm as we walk through the crowd.

“What is wrong with you?” he hisses low enough in my ear that no one else can hear. Just as I’m about to respond, the vibrating starts again.

“I need to use the bathroom,” I gush out before taking off in the direction I hope is the bathroom. I moan slips from my lips as I rush past a city councilman, and he raises an eyebrow at me. It takes two hallways before I get to the bathroom. I barge inside on the cusps of an orgasm, but just as I close the door, the vibrating stops. I’m so frustrated I feel like I might cry. Is he fucking kidding me right now?! I reach under my dress and shove the panties off my legs. They look like regular underwear, but I can feel the wires as I grip them in my hands. A knock sounds at the door.

“Just a minute,” I call.

“It’s me.” Alek’s deep voice echoes across the bathroom. Ha! I rip the door open, ready to give him a piece of my mind, but before I can, he crowds us both into the small bathroom. He closes the door and locks it before I can even get a word out.

“I told you not to take them off,” he says, turning around to face me. His eyes have darkened with desire.

“If I’d known these were just a tool to torture me, I would have never put them on!”

He takes a step closer to me, and I take a step back. He raises his eyebrow.

“I need to go back out there.” I say the words, but my body is begging me to stay here with him.

“We have some time before someone notices we’re both missing.”

Ivan probably thinks I’m sick and throwing up in here or something. Before I can respond, Alek crosses the bathroom and pulls me up by the back of the thighs so I have no choice but to wrap my legs around his waist. Everything about this is so wrong. My fiancé is out there waiting for me. He’s on a date with someone else. And yet, as he sets me down on the vanity, everything feels so right. The light smell of his colognes mixes with his usual scent of fresh soap. He doesn’t waste any time pulling himself out of his pants and entering me. My body stretches to accommodate him. I’m right back to where I was before I made it to the bathroom, right on that edge. I lock my arms around his neck and pull myself closer.

“Fuck, Alek.”

“You’re so damn wet,” he growls in my ear.