Page 51 of Mastered By Desire

“What if I want you to kiss him, and not me?” I angle my head toward Dmitri.

He sees us and scowls.

A flash of emotion crosses Leah’s face, but I can’t discern what it means.

Leah shakes her head. “I can’t. He isn’t willing, anyway.”

“All right.” I expected as much, but it’s nice to get another glimpse into their odd dynamic. “Kiss me now. And sweetheart, I don’t mind if you want to pretend it’s him.”

She pulls back slightly, looking shocked. “I wouldn’t do that to youorhim.”

Why does she have to be so wholesome? It’s both a delight and a crime.

The more time I spend with her, the more glimpses I get into the way her mind works. I try to see her from Dmitri’s point of view, also. I can’t help it. An unspoken drama, full of subtext, plays out between them whenever they’re in the same room.

If she doesn’t hurry up, Dmitri won’t see the kiss. “Pay up, little girl.”

I tilt her head toward mine and take what I want. Her sweet lips taste like sugared raspberries. I lose all thoughts of goals and manipulations. This is no game. This is me kissing a woman, our breaths commingling, our hearts syncing.

One of her hands is on my shoulder, the other on the side of my face. I delve my tongue into her mouth, stroking along hers, tasting her more fully.

I could get lost in this.

A loud crash sounds from somewhere behind us. We separate and I look toward the source of the commotion.

Dmitri crouches on the floor over a broken glass. Betty comes around the side of the bar with a broom.

Dmitri’s face is flushed. He glances in Leah’s and my direction quickly before he starts gathering glass with his bare hands, apologizing to Betty and ignoring her demands that he sweep it instead of picking it up.

Another auction with Leah next month, and a very jealous “friend.”

I cannot wait.

14

Dmitri

Istand up so fast, I nearly overturn my stool. “She’s doingwhat?”

“Calm down, Dmitri,” Betty says. “I don’t want you to break a glass like you did last night.”

“That was—that was unrelated.”

She smirks. “Keep telling yourself that, lover boy.”

I stare again at the sheet of auction sign-ups that Betty slid across the bar top. There’s Leah’s name. Or rather,Miss L.

Her sponsor? Gage Fucking Jannik.

Never mind. I don’t need to know this. It’s none of my business.

And because it’s none of my business, I can ignore it.

Unless…

I check the work schedule on my phone. The next auction is three weeks away. I’m probably not even supposed to work that night.

Fuck. In plain black text on a white background, there’s my name on the auction date. I’m scheduled to man the door for an hour while people are arriving.

---