MADISYN
Why the helldid I go against better judgment and climb into the back seat of the bratva’s vehicle?
Have I gone mad?
If Mikhail wanted me dead, he wouldn’t have insisted on his associate getting me out of the cartel’s compound several weeks ago.
He probably just wants to talk. And he’s not the only one who needs to talk.
Although why couldn’t he have done that here? By my apartment. Why drive to his home? At least that’s the direction that his driver is heading.
“How long is this going to take?” I ask. I need to know what game Mikhail is playing. I owe him for getting me away from the cartel, and even more so, I owe him an apology for sleeping with him.
I’m not the kind of girl to mix work and pleasure. Except that is exactly what I did, and I can’t stop thinking about his fingers digging into my hip, my body wrapped around his cock.
Mikhail glances me over. He can’t see much with the wool coat and my black slip-on clogs.
Does he know that I’m suspended from work? Sleeping with the leader of the bratva is bad. I wouldn’t have lost my job if I had come clean, but lying about it is problematic. At least according to the FBI’s playbook.
I’m a rule-breaker, and as such, it means a thirty-day suspension with no pay.
I’m lucky that I’m not completely out of a job.
“Who are you meeting?” Mikhail asks, ignoring my question.
“What?”
Luka pulls the vehicle up to the front gates of the bratva compound. My stomach does donuts like on an icy road, spinning wildly out of control.
“You mentioned that you have a hot date tonight. Who is it with?” Mikhail is back on me with his interrogation.
“It’s no one you know,” I lie. I don’t have a date. I just wanted to see if he’d be jealous. He seems like the jealous type, like he wouldn’t be willing to share me with another man.
It’s probably for the best. I don’t think I could handle two possessive men at once.
I quirk a grin as Luka puts the engine in park and the doors unlock. I checked the child safety latch when I got into the vehicle. I open the door and step out, stretching my legs.
He practically leaps out of the vehicle to finish his interrogation. He’s as bad as the FBI when it comes to demanding an answer on the spot. “Who is it?” Mikhail growls at me.
“Why do you want to know? Are you jealous?”
He pins me with his stare. “You’re mine for tonight. Whoever you’re meeting, tell them you’re not going to make it.”
He shoves my phone back into my grasp.
I open my mouth, surprised that he isn’t keeping my phone. He also hasn’t searched me yet for a weapon.
I open my text messages and glance at them briefly before shoving my phone back into my pocket. There were no new messages, not that I was expecting anything.
There is no hot date.
Unless you count a carton of ice cream and a romance movie in front of the television. Not that Mikhail needs to know what I had planned. It’s none of his business.
“Come inside,” Mikhail says. It’s not an invitation. It’s an order. He grabs my hand and leads me in through the front door.
My breath catches in my throat, and I obediently obey and follow him inside. Luka is a few feet behind us and shuts the door after stepping inside.
Mikhail whisks me down the hall into the study and closes the pocket door behind us.
“What are we doing?” I ask, not understanding why he brought me to his home.
“Have a seat.” He gestures to the sofa.
“I’d rather stand.” I fold my arms across my chest, my coat still secure although I’m getting warm.
“Okay, stand. Are we going to talk about what you did?”
“What I did?” I scoff at his question.
“You slept with me. Was that all part of your little assignment?” Mikhail asks. He steps closer, closing the distance between us.
I don’t move. My body has frozen in place.
Mikhail reaches out, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.
I flinch and a shiver ripples through me. Does he notice the effect that he has on me? I clear my throat, trying to hide the heat building within me.
“Was it?” He’s less patient than I remember. Even when he’s angry with me, there’s a warmth and a passion that he exudes.
My voice is soft, and my question is barely above a whisper. “Do you hate me?” I need to know the truth because if the roles were reversed, I’m not sure that I’d have it within me to forgive him. I’ve been burned one too many times.
“I should,” Mikhail says. “I ought to hate you, vow never to speak to you again.”
My lips part, and I exhale an even, slow breath. “I deserve that,” I say. My gaze falls to the floor. Why did he bring me here? To taunt me and tease me? Does he want to remind me how I hurt him and how much he hates me?
“Well, it isn’t what I want.” Mikhail is back on me. This time, his fingers are in my hair. He grabs a fistful of my blonde locks, tugging on the tresses, guiding my face up to his. “I want you, Kisa.”
Each breath I take grows louder, deeper, raspier. I want him too. But he’s bratva. He’s everything I can’t be. I’m good. He’s evil.
But the world isn’t quite so black and white.
He saved my life.
Well, technically, his comrade rescued my ass, but it was on Mikhail’s orders. He was trying to stay alive while I escaped.
“It’s against the rules,” I say, staring up into his darkened, heated gaze.
His voice doesn’t falter. He’s louder and more forceful with his question. “Whose rules?”
My mouth is dry. I’m already in trouble with my job. If I’m associating with Mikhail, I’ll never have another opportunity with the bureau. “It’s against the rules to associate with a known felon.”
“I haven’t been convicted,” Mikhail boasts.
He’s not wrong, but the semantics don’t matter. The Office of Professional Responsibility is already up my ass for lying to them, sleeping with him, and having any sort of relationship at all will ensure that I lose my job.
His lips close in on mine, and I gasp from the pressure building and the blazing inferno inside of me. Mikhail pulls me tighter against his body, and I can feel his excitement growing between us.
“I want you, Kisa.”