Page 40 of Paid for By the Bratva

“Sometimes, people can’t see a good thing when it’s standing right in front of them,” Dima says with such passion that each word burns in my mind. “And you know what? It’s their goddamn loss.”

My breath hitches in my throat because no one has ever looked that angry on my behalf before. No one has ever expressed suchloyalaffection for me before, and I know, from how he looks, that hefeelsfor me.

My heart begins to race, my hands get clammy and inside my head, I begin to wonder if I’m a fool for having pushed him away for the past three days.

Dima sits up straighter in his chair, his white shirt stretching across his broad shoulders, and I can't help but notice the way his muscles flex when he leans over the table to look into my eyes.

“What?” he whispers, his gaze flickering between mine. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

My heart races and my voice catches in my throat, making it difficult to speak. “I didn’t know…I was looking at you like that,” my voice dims toward the last few words.

Dima remains transfixed on my face, his eyes lingering like he’s soaking me in, etching me into memory.

His words keep playing in my mind.Sometimes, people can’t see a good thing when it’s standing right in front of them.

Am I one of those people? Dima made a mistake, but for that mistake, am I willing to throw away everything good he has to offer?

Do I even have a right to forgive him after the fact that he’s the only man who has ever truly been a pillar of support the way Ineededhim to be?

No,a voice roars in my head. He doesn’t need my forgiveness. He never needed it. He’s that good thing standing right in front of me and I’ll be a wretched fool to not listen to my aching heart right now.

"Are you okay?" Dima asks, worry plastered on his face when I don’t speak, when I continue to stare.

Without a second thought, I push back my chair. He watches, entranced, as I walk over to his side. Slowly, I placemy hand on the collar of his shirt, and I feel him tense beneath my touch and shuffle a little. Slowly, I run my fingers across the lapel until they reach the back of his neck.

“Actually,” I whisper, leaning low into his ear. “I’ve been just a little distracted."

He grabs my hand and swivels his chair until he’s sitting right beneath me, staring up into my eyes. “Distracted by what exactly?” His voice comes out hoarse, a deep desire seeping through his very being.

“This perfect thing right in front of me,” I say, leaning closer until my lips are mere inches away from his. I then take my free hand and glide it to the hem of my skirt, hiking it up centimeter by centimeter. Dima chokes on his own breath, his eyes flittering to my flesh.

“Lara,” he groans, almost painfully. “With everything you know…”

“I forgive you,” I whisper, slowly inching myself on his lap. He releases my hand, his face almost pained from the restraint the gentleman in him is forced to show as I slide my arms across his neck, feeling his bulge expand between my legs.

“After all,” I whisper in his ear, the air from my mouth leaving a prickle of goosebumps on his stubble. “I’m not willing to let a good thing go.”

He sighs and brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers leaving a trail of heat on my skin. My breath catches at his touch. There's a tension building between us, like a live wire. I want him to kiss me, but I don't know how to ask. I've never had to before.

But maybe I don’t have to ask.

If he’s claimed me, perhaps it’s time I claim him.

And so, without a thought, I close the gap between us, taking his lips to my own with a feather-light force. The world around us fades away, leaving only the crackling tension between our bodies, and then he moans, clamping his hands on the edge of my ass, pulling me closer toward him, my legs resting on both sides of his. I gasp as he kisses me with ferocity now, his tongue parting open my lips, warring with my own.

His hands grip my hips, pulling me closer and digging into my skin as if he's afraid I might disappear. The kiss deepens. My fingers tangle in his hair, holding him close as if I'm afraid to let go.

“God, Lara,” he talks through his kisses, his hands now reaching for the buttons of my blouse. He undoes each one in a rushed hurry, his fingers trailing over my skin with such light touch, that I almost feel angry he’s not being fiercer. I’ve been denying myself too long, and I can feel the hunger in my skin.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been thinking about this…” he whispers in my ear, sending shivers down the back of my neck.

“Me too,” I pant, reaching for his belt with a firm grip. I slide it off, throwing it across the room.

He stops, following the progression of the belt, before looking back at me. “Impressive,” he pouts playfully.

“Oh, wait until you get me naked,” I tease. “Then we’ll talk impressive.”

A devilish grin crosses his face, and I hear arrrrip. He’s torn off my blouse, giving up on wasting time on the last three buttons. “Tease me more, and you might have no clothes to walk home in,” he growls. Heat pools in my belly, and my legs almost tremble for more. “Who said I’d mind?” I nip his neck.

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