Page 61 of Fixate
I lasted all of about five minutes before I said, "Do you think everything will be okay?"
He tore his gaze away from the window to look my way. “I'm sure everything will be good. Having you there will deter them somewhat. I also have contingencies in place.”
I snorted. “Contingencies being Pip?”
His smirk had my cock hardening. I wanted to climb in his lap and taste his mouth. I wanted to strip us of this formal wear until we were nothing but skin.
I needed him.
I needed his pleasure and his touch.
It had become my obsession.
“I’m learning that I should not depend on one plan. Your idea with the shipment gave me a clue as to what I was doing wrong.”
I raised a brow. "Oh really? I've been helpful?"
He hummed and leaned forward enough to press his soft kiss against the corner of my mouth.
Goddamn it, that wasn't enough. I needed more.
Not thinking, I grabbed his face and pressed a hard kiss on his lips.
Mind you, the privacy panel was down, which meant I was giving one of his men a front row seat to something they did not need to see. I yanked myself away as quickly as I had touched him and curled myself into a ball by the door.
What the fuck was I thinking? I should have been more careful. I should have controlled myself. Instead, I mauled himin the car in front of one of the men, which would only make the whole situation worse.
We were going to see his dead wife's family for goodness’ sake.
It's like I had no tact.
He reached over and grabbed my hand, squeezing it until he had my attention. "You're fine,” he mouthed, careful not to speak.
The driver had focused back on the road, though I could sense at any moment he would be tuned into the discussion we were having. When we reached the restaurant, Pharrell didn't wait. He climbed out and stuck his hand in for me to take it.
I did, and he helped me until I was standing beside him looking at a nondescript building that could have been any business. There was nothing special about it, and outside of a small sign calling it "The Restaurant," there was no logo or unique design to be found.
"The place is bland," I said to him slowly.
He smirked. "It's meant to be that way. The less attention it draws, the better."
I then followed him through the front door and into a rather cozy space. One table sat in the middle of the room. It was lit with candles, making the space feel somewhat romantic. Though I suspected that was more a façade since these two men were not here for a date since the Bratva was notoriously homophobic.
And if that wasn't enough of a reason, then the fact that we were there specifically for a discussion about all the recent murders of Bratva people.
Definitely a boner killer.
A waiter motioned us to have a seat in two of the empty chairs on one side of the table. Pharrell discreetly pulled mine back and pressed the hand to guide me into the seat. I smiled at him briefly, then turned to face the front.
I had no clue who would be walking through those doors.
The Bratva were unknown to me, and even if I had been familiar enough through my connections with Dante, this would likely be a different faction. Thankfully, we didn't have to wait long.
Five men strode into the room, powerful and menacing. Two of them were identical, and I shivered at the way they stared us down. The other three were obviously related, though the resemblance was less. One in particular stood out the most.
He was obviously the ringleader, given how he was a couple of steps ahead of everyone. When they reached the edge of the table, they took their seats in the same formation they had walked.
The leader in the middle, the twins on either side of him, and then the remaining two stood behind him.
