Page 105 of Gilded Cage (Kovalyov Bratva 1)

Esme continues with the silent treatment the whole time.

Fine. She wants to be a brat? So be it.

I intend to enjoy myself.

I decide to just ignore her completely. Once I’m settled in, I change into a pair of black swimming trunks and head down to the pool.

It’s a beautiful day to do nothing. Moments like this are rare in a life like mine. Since birth, I’ve spent most of my waking hours fighting and working for the Bratva.

So when the chance comes to laze in the sun, I take it.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Esme making her way to the pool. She’s wearing a long, sheer white cover-up, but the moment she hits the pool deck, she discards it.

My eyes bulge when I see what she’s got on underneath: the skimpiest bikini I’ve ever seen.

It’s comprised of a thong bikini bottom and a bikini top that has hardly enough fabric to cover her nipples. The electric blue stands out sharply against her tanned skin like it’s glowing.

She walks around the deck towards me. Confident. Alluring.

And for the life of me, I can’t look away.

She seems to be aware of my attention because she’s definitely doing her best to put on a show.

She sinks gracefully into the deck chair next to me and starts rubbing sunscreen on her soft caramel skin.

I watch her as my cock jumps to life. A few minutes later, she’s all oily from the lotion and I’m struggling not to touch myself.

“Would you mind getting my back?” she asks suddenly, offering me the sunscreen lotion.

I raise my eyebrows. “You sure about that?"

She makes a big show of looking around the rest of the serenely empty pool deck. “Well, there’s no one else here to help me,” she says innocently.

I have to suppress a smile as I take the lotion and squirt some onto my hand.

She’s a cunning little vixen, I’ll give her that.

I really hadn’t expected this move from her. I expected her to rage and storm, curse me and spit in my face.

But this kind of manipulative play? It’s out of left field.

I’m used to waging war with my guns and fists.

Esme is ready to do it with her ass and tits.

That’s not a war I’d be upset about losing.

I apply the lotion to her lower back. Her skin is warm and soft to the touch. I take my time, moving my palm in broad, slow circles up the sides of her torso. It takes a huge effort not to squeeze a handful of her ass.

I move higher towards her shoulders blades, but she shifts and stops me.

“Wait.”

Propping herself up, she reaches behind and undoes the tie on the back of her bikini top. Her face is perfectly calm as she sighs and lies back down, cheek on the chair.

“That’s better,” she says dreamily. “You can keep going.”

I know she’s playing a game. And she knows that I know. But fuck—this is much more challenging than I would’ve predicted.

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