Page 17 of Use Me, Daddy

I couldalmostforget about Aleksei Morozov.

Here, surrounded by strangers, I was anonymous, free. Just a woman out with her best friend, dancing without a care.

But every now and then, a thought of him slipped back in, uninvited. The way he’d looked at me, how he’d pushed my buttons effortlessly, how he knew just how to get under my skin and make me feel things I hadn’t felt before in my life. I shook it off, refusing to let him steal any more of my night.

Zoey leaned in again, grinning mischievously. “This is exactly what you needed! Look at you, already a new woman. He’s already forgotten, isn’t he?”

“Completely,” I lied, putting on a smile, even as I felt that familiar warmth creeping up my neck. I danced harder, determined to let go of every last thought of him.

As the night wore on, a few guys drifted over, catching my eye, each one trying to make a play for me. They were the usual suspects—clean-cut, grinning, confident in that practiced way that told me they’d never been denied a day in their lives.

Players. The whole lot of them.

One leaned in with a smooth line about my dress, another offered to buy me a drink, and the third, a little bolder, reached for my hand, spinning me in time with the music.

Zoey gave me a knowing look, rolling her eyes. We’d been here before. Boys like these were everywhere in this city. I was no stranger to them, to the routine they thought worked, as if I’d go home with them after nothing more than a half-smile and a couple of compliments and maybe a drink. One of them had the nerve to lean in close, his hand on my hip as he moved in time with me, his cologne cloying, too sweet.

But it wasn’t working. They were handsome, sure, but they weren’t enough. Not anymore. I was tired of boys with too much polish and no substance, no edge. They didn’t have what I needed.

What I needed was… well, I wasn’t entirely sure. I needed something different. Someone real, someone intense.

“Zoey,” I muttered under my breath as I leaned in, exasperated, “I swear, the next guy I’m going to be with is going to be a firefighter or a cop or something. I’m done with rich boys who think they can get in my pants by simply buying me a drink or grinding their cock into my ass on the dance floor.”

She burst out laughing, nodding in agreement. “I get it. You want a guy who can keep up, who’ll push back.”

“Exactly.” I sighed, glancing around as if maybe someone fitting that description would magically appear.

Not surprisingly, no one did.

“Like your boss,” she teased.

“How dare you?” I laughed, shaking my head.

I wanted someone who could pull me in without trying, someone who’d know what I wanted without needing me to spell it out. Someone who could match me, someone who couldbestme—both mentally and physically.

I needed that challenge, the spark that came from a man who could take what I threw at him and give it right back without missing a beat.

I wanted someone who’d put me in my place and make me want it.

The realization hit me like a jolt, and I forced myself to smile, to keep dancing with the boys hitting on me and Zoey. They’d never get under my skin. Not a single one of them could outwit me, let alone make me question who was in control.

ButAleksei… He was different.

He’d seen straight through me, meeting my gaze with an unyielding intensity that left me flustered in ways I didn’t want to admit. It was infuriating and unsettling and maybe—just maybe—the exact thing I needed.

But if I were honest with myself, I wasn’t interested in any of these men because of one very simple reason.

None of them were Aleksei.

CHAPTER 7

Aleksei

The Iron Wolf Tavern had a particular scent—dark wood, leather, and the faintest bite of smoke, even though the place was a no-smoking zone by Boston’s standards. Stepping inside felt like slipping on a second skin, the energy as familiar as the well-worn booths and the glint of Russian vodka lining the shelves.

I nodded at Yuri behind the bar as I passed, his eyes giving a flicker of recognition before he went back to polishing glasses.

My older brother Maxim was already at our usual table in the back, a glass of neat vodka in hand, his expression as unreadable as ever. Sergei sat next to him, leaning back with his arms crossed, his gaze flickering to me as I approached. Ivan and Nikolai sat on the other side of the booth, both deep in conversation, their faces lit up with excited intensity with whatever they were talking about.

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