Page 60 of Stolen By the Bratva King

I take deep breaths and count to ten in my head. I can’t afford to explode on my number one guy right now. He’s the only one I can trust right now, judgement on women included.

Try as I might, I’m unwilling to admit aloud that I have no idea what I’m doing with Hazel, and I have no idea what she wants.

My stomach is in knots and my pulse is spiking. There’s a sour taste on my tongue as we get closer.

“I hate surprises,” I say. “You know that.”

“Just wait, boss.”

I sigh, resigned.

I want her, and it’s vibrating through my bones, an intense craving. Desire pulses through my veins, throbs between my legs, sends surges of excitement through my brain.

“I don’t want to screw this up,” I blurt.

Vlad parks in my garage, beside my car that is still there, unused in my absence. He doesn’t shut off the engine. He looks at me, his eyes darker than usual. His face is cast in shadows. “I’m going home to give you alone time to talk things over with Hazel. And just so you know, she has only been staying here a few days. Not the whole month.”

Nerves jump under my skin, but I haul myself from the car and start walking toward the door. Vlad opens the car window. “Hey boss?”

I stop and turn around. “Yes?”

Vlad has a somber look on his face, which confuses me. I don’t know what to expect when I go inside the house.

“Good luck.” He puts the gear in reverse. “I’ll call you later in the week. We can figure out how to handle the little problem with our buddy.”

He doesn’t say his name, but I know he’s referring to Oleg. I tip my chin at him. “Make it early in the week.”

“You’ve got it, boss.”

He backs out of the garage, leaving me to face whatever awaits me with Hazel, on my own.

20

Hazel

Iwatch Vlad’s car pull up. My heart is in my throat and my stomach is jumping with excitement and nerves. The sound of the garage door opening catapults me in that direction.

I rush to the door when I hear David open it, gliding across the room, wanting to jump into his arms and let him swaddle me with a current of tingles. I’m desperate to feel his hard body pressed against mine, protecting me.

He stands there at the threshold, looking uncertain, a shadow over his eyes and on his stubbled face. The angles of his jaw and cheekbones are sharp and steady. He looks like he’s been through hell.

I don’t care. He still looks gorgeous, making me weak as always.

I don’t waste time. I’ve already wasted enough of it. It’s time for action. Before he can say a single word, I spring into his arms and rope my arms around his neck.

I draw him to me. His eyes are startled, but he leans in, receptive to my mouth that crashes into his.

His stubble tickles my lips. His hands tunnel through my hair. He lets out a desperate noise. The frenzy of his tongue sliding into mine makes me shiver with arousal. We don’t speak at first. It’s just breathless, urgent kisses, the sound of kissing, sighs, moans.

Our lips are glued together. His body fuses with mine. He makes another groan of longing. My heart patters against my ribs. His fingertips brush down my arms, sending tingles scurrying across my skin.

Every kiss is more urgent and sensual than the one before it, sending a current of heat pulsing through my veins. A throb begins to stir between my legs, an aching of need that sends me spiraling.

But I need to focus.

I unhinge his lips from mine, panting hard. His lips are red from being locked with mine. We’re both breathing as if we just sprinted. His eyes are gleaming, wild and fierce.

“I need to tell you something,” I breath out.

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