Page 74 of Unhinged

"When do we have to go?"

He glances at the little alarm clock on the bedside table. "We have about an hour."

I leap from his lap, but he catches me midair, tugging me back down.

I fall onto his lap with a quick thump.

"Come here," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. "Don’t go so fast. We just went over a lot. Are you all right?"

He needs to stop being so sweet.

"I’m fine," I huff out. "Can you go back to being an asshole, please?" I shrug. "It makes me more comfortable."

I scoot off the bed just as his hand connects with my ass.

I squeal, smiling, as I head to the bathroom.

I have to get ready for my grand entrance.

* * *

Chapter16

ANISSA

I takemy time making sure I look perfect. This is what I’m good at—an impeccable physical appearance that masks everything else. But we don’t need to dwell on that rightnow.

My hair, my natural color now, hangs down well past my shoulders in thick blonde waves. I miss my wigs. The long, white-blonde feels unnatural now. My eyes are cornflower blue, so I wear thick black mascara to bring them out, but I opt for a sheer pink gloss and a spritz of my favorite body spray. Thanks to our little shopping spree, I am pretty well decked out with clothes.

“I’m guessing business casual?” I yell through the door toward Matvei, who is lumbering on the other side, opening drawers, likely getting changed. He’s a big guy. He does nothing quietly or gently.

“What the fuck is business casual?” he says.

“I don’t know, skirts, dresses, something like that? Something you’d wear to, like, a business meeting.”

Of course, he has no idea what business casual is. He’s Bratva. Why would he?

“No, probably just casual-casual. We’re not going to a restaurant; we’re just going to the family home.”

Then something occurs to me. Ohfuck.

“Are your parents coming?”

“No, not today. My mom has some kind of book club or something.”

Can’t think of anything less fun than reading a book with his mother.

“Alright, okay. Just need to grab clothes.” I cinch my robe around myself and open the door, finding him standing on the other side, looking like sin in a pair of denim jeans and boots.

Mygod, Matvei.

My ovaries practically self-combust just staring at him. His black hair slicked back, his eyes piercing. The gold hoops in his ears glint under the overhead light—subtle.Badass. My eyes roll down to the ink creeping up his neck, disappearing into a fitted black Henley. Heavy black boots.

“You look good enough to eat.” I swallow hard. I’m not joking.

The corner of his lip quirks up. “Unfortunately, we don’t have time. But I’ll take a rain check.”

Oh, hell yes, you will. I imagine myself getting down on my knees in front of him, unbuttoning his jeans, pulling out his thick, veined cock, sliding it into my mouth—fuck. I’m wet. And he’s right, we don’t have time.

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