Page 42 of Sexting the Bratva Beast
I can smell my shampoo on her. I can smellmeon her. And I adjust my pants before she turns around and startles when she realizes that I’ve been watching her.
“Andrej?” Her eyes drop to the flowers in my hands. “Are they for me?”
A sarcastic comment perches on the tip of my tongue, but I let it go. Cartier deserves so much better than sarcasm and games. She deserves so much better than me, but if I can step up and be the person she should have in her life, then I’ll do everything in my power to make it happen.
“For leaving you in my bed this morning.”
I spot a simple glass vase in the window and cross the room to place the flowers in the basin. Then I go to her, cup her face with my hands, and kiss her.
She doesn’t close her eyes. She’s submissive to my touch, and I instantly miss the passion of her regular responses.
“Where did you go?” she asks.
“Something came up that Leonid couldn’t handle.” It isn’t a lie. It just isn’t the whole truth. “He needs me to step up while he spends time with his family.”
She gives me a half-smile. I’ve known Cartier Black for less than forty-eight hours, but I recognize when something is bothering her.
“I’m sorry. I won’t leave without telling you in future.”
Her face glows with her smile. “In future?”
“I meant what I said, Cartier. You’re mine now, and I’m not going fucking anywhere.”
She relaxes against me. But she’s still holding back. “I should finish preparing lunch.”
I pull her back into my arms before she can turn away. “Talk to me, baby.”
Her eyes hold mine, and fuck if I could get lost in those green and amber pools and never resurface. “Ivana was waiting for me when I woke up this morning.”
My jaw clenches. Ivana sent the message that woke up me at dawn and hauled my ass out of bed to handle the situation. “In my apartment?”
Cartier nods. “You didn’t know that she was there?”
“What did she want?”
“She … warned me to stay away from you.”
I release her arms so that she can’t feel my clenched fists.
What the fuck is Ivana playing at? I understand that my brother feels responsible for Ivana and her twin sister Tamara. He was the one who discovered them in a shipping container when they arrived in Chicago and rescued them from being trafficked to fuck knows which twisted animals prepared to pay for their bodies. But I feel no such compulsion to protect them.
Especially if they want to interfere in my life.
I turn back to Cartier. “I’ll speak to her. It won’t happen again.”
Cartier chews her bottom lip, and I tug it free with my thumb, placing my other hand on the small of her back and pulling her against my chest.
“She said that she didn’t want me to get hurt.”
She nuzzles my hand with her cheek, in a gesture that is so innocent, so pure, that I can picture myself pressing a gun to Ivana’s temple and threatening to pull the trigger for sucking up my baby’s beautiful smiles.
“I will never hurt you, Cartier. I promise. I would rather cut out my own heart and fry it in oil.”
“Ugh.” She grimaces, and I can’t help smiling.
“I’ve never met anyone like you before.”
I can imagine what Ivana said to her:He’s dangerous. Volatile. A liability. He uses women and then walks away once he’s gotten what he wanted.
