Page 22 of A Bride for the Bratva Boss
“I’m good,” I hedge. I should probably tell him that I’ve gotten married. It seems like something a daughter would tell her father, especially if he’s her only living relative. But I learned a long time ago to keep personal details from my dad.
When my second-grade friend got a new bike, I told my dad about how pretty and pink it was and that evening, it disappeared from her yard. My fifth-grade friend showed me her new iPad while playing at our house, and it somehow disappeared from her school locker the next day. My first boyfriend broke up with me because every time he came over to our house, someone would syphon the gas out of his car.
No way am I telling my dad that I married someone who lives in a penthouse and has staff. It’s safer for my piece of mind thathe doesn’t know how wealthy Danyl is. And it’s safer for my dad’s physical health, that he doesn’t try to pull a fast one on a member of the Kedrov Family. Dad is not smart enough to play in the same league as the Bratva.
“We should get together soon. I miss you,” he says with that same fake cheeriness, not even slurring a little this time. Maybe he’s sobering up.
“Sure,” I say.
“Okay. Let’s make that happen. I’ll call you in a day or two.” He hangs up before I can answer. Leaving me staring at the phone. Our conversations are often weird, but that was more bonkers than usual. Then again, they often end with him wanting to get together to catch up. That’s code for he hasn’t eaten a real meal in a while and needs me to buy him one.
And that makes me think about Meridian.
Will Danyl’s guard watch me during my shift? Will I be able to work there without running to the bathroom to throw up every time I think about what happened in the parking lot?
I pick up my e-reader to distract myself from questions I can’t answer.
But my tempting collection of smut doesn’t have the usual effect of letting me escape from my doldrum life. Instead, it makes me think about the man with who I now live.
My body buzzes,my heart beats loudly, and when the characters in the story touch, I feel Danyl’s hands on my hips again. The way he held them when we spared in the gym. The way he gripped them in the kitchen.
And he’d looked at me like he wanted to devour me. Like I excite him.
I’ve never had that effect on anyone.
I’m the girl who blends in, who gets talked over, who gets touched by drunk customers because I’m there. Not because I’m special
No one has ever looked at me the way Danyl does. Like he seesme. Like he wantsme.
Remembering his heated gaze heats my core and I press my thighs together. I slip my hand below my waistband to relieve the ache between my legs. My pussy is already slippery wet. A moan escapes my lips as I slip two fingers inside myself.
But it isn’t enough. It’s not what I want.
I sit up, legs trembling slightly. I don’t want to be afraid anymore.
Not of men. Not of intimacy. Not of him.
And not of wanting things.
I inhale sharply and get off the bed to go find my husband.
He’s in the sitting room below the stairs, reading something on his tablet. Holding his shoulders rigid, he swipes his finger across the screen, jaw ticking like he’s forcing himself to stay calm.
I step down from the last step.
He lifts his head instantly. Like he senses me before I even made a sound.
“Liza.” His voice is low, warm, surprised. “Do you need something?”
“No,” I whisper, but that’s not true, so I try again. “Yes.”
He sets the tablet aside.Slowly. Carefully. Like he doesn’t want to startle me.
“What do you need?”
I swallow hard. “You,” I say.
His eyes darken, and I swear the air changes. Thickens.
