Page 13 of Bratva Daddies for the Single Mom

“Stop that.” A feminine voice rang out through the wall. “That’s not what I’m here for.”

That voice. I knew it. I’d heard it cry out in passionate ecstasy for hours. Annie. I dropped Kent and ran from the room.

His voice followed me. “What are you doing?”

The carpet muffled my footsteps but did nothing to slow me down as I wrenched open Kent’s doors and slammed my shoulder into the door down the hall. This room was smaller, with a large conference table pushed to one side. A man lay facedown on a table, his lower half covered with a towel. One hand dangled by his side. The other… I tracked it to where it rested beneath a blue skirt.

Annie stepped back and smacked the man’s arm. “Let go.” Her eyes found mine.

Red burst across my vision, the panic in her voice and the tight fear in her eyes pushing me into action.

8

ANNIE

Tina and I had made up a plan after discovering I was pregnant. I’d take on more clients to increase my income since I’d have another mouth to feed. The extra money would be put aside, along with the money from the auction, to help me ride through the months when I wouldn’t be able to work.

My first new client–Signature Concrete–had asked for a full week of massages, a relaxing treat for all their hard work. These were the contracts I enjoyed. I’d get to drive to the same place every day, work in a steady environment, and get paid a handsome sum for my time. Clients like Miles Kent were willing to pay through the nose for anything they could write off on their taxes as an employee expenditure.

I almost skipped into the office and followed the pert blonde up to the top floor and into the conference room where she’d instructed me to set up. She’d given me a warm smile, told me she hoped I enjoyed my time with them, and informed me that my first client would be up in ten minutes.

I’d known as soon as the man walked in that he’d be a problem. Some men were like that. They saw me, knew that Igave massages, and their first thought was that I’d jerk them off as part of the deal. He’d walked over to the table, taking off his clothes as he strolled, and smirked at me with a devilish grin that some women probably found handsome.

I found it annoying. “Please lie facedown on the table.” I stepped back to give him room.

“Do I know you?” His brows arched, his curiosity evident. “I feel like we’ve met.”

Two sad pickup lines back to back. I bit my inner cheek to keep from rolling my eyes and sighing. “I’m afraid not.” I motioned at the table again. I maintained my calm demeanor even as I double-checked that I didn’t recognize him. Something seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place him, so I shrugged it off.

“No, seriously.” He hopped onto the table and sat there, his legs dangling. “I’ve seen you before.”

“Maybe it’ll come to you.” I pointed at the headrest, and he finally settled into place with his back exposed. “Have you worked here long?”

“No.” He angled his head to the side. “I didn’t know you were a masseuse.” A soft chuckle shook his body. “In fact, I don’t even know your name.”

“No?” I rubbed oil on my hands and ran them up and down his spine, searching for tender muscles or tight bands that I could work out as we chatted. If he didn’t know my name or my profession, then he didn’t know me at all and I had nothing to worry about.

He sighed when I ran the heel of my hand across a knot of muscles in his lower back. “You know, if I’d known you were this good with your hands, I might’ve been willing to increase my bid.”

Ice flowed through my veins. “Excuse me?” I stopped moving, my body freezing in place as realization dawned. The auction. I’d worried that I would run into some of my clients dueto the highbrow clients Tina said the auction brought in, but I’d put it out of my mind in the last few weeks, anxious to get back to my ‘normal’ life. I struggled with a laugh, hoping to sidetrack him. “You must have me confused with someone else. I don’t know anything about bids.”

“Now why don’t I believe that?” He watched me through half-lidded eyes, his hand dropping beside the table, one finger skirting along the back of my knee. “Not many women could pull off that green dress, but you did. And it was magnificent.” His smile widened to a predatory grin. “If you’re strapped for cash, I’d be happy to pay what I bid that night.”

Words failed me. I’d always had that problem when anger and fear came together inside me. His hand rose higher up my leg, pushing my skirt up around my thigh. “Stop that. That’s not what I’m here for.”

He squeezed, hard. “No? I think you are. I think you knew you’d find me, knew I’d still want you, and now you’re playing hard to get.”

“Let go.” I smacked his arm and tried to move out of reach.

The door behind me burst open, a bull of a man filling the entire frame. Blond hair. Eyes as blue as a summer sky. He took in the scene with a sweep of those gorgeous eyes, and they hardened to chips of blue ice. He was here. My heart sang with joy even as my brain tried to catch up to the sight of the man fromthat nightstanding before me, his broad chest barely contained behind a snug ash-gray suit. I’d never seen a man so livid, so angry that his lips disappeared and a feral snarl tore from his mouth.

My skin turned clammy at the thought that he’d caught me in a compromising position. I’d turned the man down, but did he know that? Did he know I wanted to be left alone?

He took a single step, and a wave of heat swept over me. “Get your filthy hands off her before you lose them.” Thewords were so deep and animalistic that they were almost incomprehensible. “She clearly does not wantyoutouching her.”

The man on the table sat up, his hand riding higher.

I slapped him across the face and yanked my body backward with enough force to wrench my leg from his grasp. Then, he was there, his body between me and my attacker. He grabbed the man’s arm and hand, a sickeningsnapsplitting the room. The man howled and cradled his arm beneath his chin. “You broke my fucking wrist, asshole.”

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