I told my family I was just coming home for a quick visit. But really, I’m here to make sure Marie’s okay.
Last time I was in town, my sister was still working with our dad at his accounting firm and going on an endless string of first dates. Now, she’s Mrs. Viktor Maksimov! Married to a freaking Bratva boss, living in a mansion with guards, tall iron gates, and a man who probably eats bullets for breakfast.
Marie and I are only a couple of years apart, but my sister is the quiet, easygoing one, and I’m the loud, sassy mouth. She lived with our parents until she graduated from college and started working with our father. Me? I left the house the minute I turned eighteen. Mom and dad wanted me to study something safe and boring like my father and sister. I said, fuck that. I wanna write songs.
So after a couple of years of working odd jobs, busting my ass in music school, and not really seeing how I could make it in our hometown, I packed my shit and moved to New York. Now, six months later, I feel like I’m even further from my big Broadway dreams.
I haven’t told anyone yet, but I’m thinking of moving back home. The city is not what I thought. The tiny apartments, chaotic roommates, asshole boyfriends who treat me like shit, crappy jobs that barely pay the rent… the constant grind. I need a fucking break.
* * *
I’m still wrapped up in my thoughts when I spot him near the terminal exit. Tall, broad, and scowling like he’s two seconds away from putting someone in a chokehold.
Uh… do criminal organizations recruit male models now? ‘Big, bad, and hot as hell’ doesn’t even begin to cover it.
Marie described my ride to her place, Aslan, Viktor’s right-hand man, as a man who barely talks and never smiles. And this guy, with his gorgeous features, deep frown, muscles everywhere, and black suit, has to be Aslan Antonov.
His ice-blue eyes lock on me the second I step outside the airport. Jee-zus… The way he’s scowling at me makes my pulse beat faster and my clit tingle. What the hell, Tina?
I adjust my bag on my shoulder, plaster on a smile, and stride toward him.
* * *
“Aslan?”
His gaze narrows.
“Tina.”
That’s it. No smile, no greeting. Just my name said low and short. Oookay then…
I flash him a big, bright grin like I wasn’t just pretty much bitch-slapped.
“Nice to meet you.”
He doesn’t answer. Just takes my bag from me, turns and walks away like I don’t even exist.
I stand there blinking for a few seconds, watching his massive body move toward a gleaming black Maybach double-parked at the curb.
“Well, hello to you too,” I mutter to myself, following him. “With your rude, sexy ass.”
* * *
I’m in the backseat of the most luxurious car I’ve ever been in. All plush, creamy leather and shiny dark woods. With so much space, it feels like a small studio apartment. And being me, I attempt conversation with the grumpiest man I’ve ever met.
“Boston doesn’t change, huh?” Nothing. “Always freezing. Guess I shouldn’t have worn this top.” I tug at the hem of my sweater. Not because I’m actually cold, but because Aslan’s eyes slid to my chest for a half-second when I got in the car.
Listen, I take my fun where I can find it.
I smile sweetly in the mirror. Aslan’s fingers flex on the steering wheel. Interesting. I lean forward in the space between the two front seats. “You’re not much of a talker, huh?” He grips the wheel tighter. “You know, you could at least,”
“Sit back.” His deep voice cuts through the air in a low, gravelly rumble that instantly makes my nipples stand to attention. Shit, my entire body.
I blink, feeling completely out of sorts. My skin tingles all over, my clit pulses, my pussy spasms. I stare, jaw slack.
This man is hot. Period. That was clear from the first look at took at him. All tall, broad, muscular. With that sun-kissed skin, jet black hair, striking eyes, and ridiculously handsome face. But this tone? The command in his voice? Its rasp while he fucking bossed me? Sweet Lord in heaven. The man just triggered something deep inside me I didn’t even know existed.
I manage to croak out, “excuse me?”
Aslan’s cold blue eyes flash in the rearview mirror.
“Sit. Back. Now.”
More pussy spasms with each growled word. I should listen. I really should. But instead, I lean forward even more, my hand resting on the side of his seat. It’s like I can’t to stop myself. “Okay, chill. You,”
The car jerks to a complete stop. In the middle of traffic. Creating a commotion of honks and yells. I’m slammed forward, grabbing the seat in a death-grip so I don’t fly into the dashboard. “What the hell, man?!”
Aslan spins around so fast, all I see is a blur. He’s terrifyingly hot. All clenched jaw and burning gaze. Completely ignoring the other cars around us.
“I don’t know what you think this is,” he rumbles in a low, rough voice, “but I am not here to entertain you. Not your friend. Not your goddamn toy.” His gaze drops to my mouth for a second, making everything between my thighs feel hot and sticky, before snapping back to my eyes. “You’re Marie’s sister. That’s the only reason you’re breathing my air. So sit back… and keep your fucking mouth shut.”
I blink, heat rushing to my face. Partly from embarrassment, but mostly because of the way this man is affecting me. And all I can think about is how that big, thickly veined hand that’s knuckling the steering wheel would feel wrapped around my throat, his blue eyes flashing while he’d talk dirty to me…
So I sit back. Because now I don’t fully trust myself around this deliciously terrifying man.
* * *
Marie’s already waiting in the huge circle driveway when we pull up, practically bouncing on her toes, grinning like she’s been counting the seconds since I landed.
She throws her arms around me the moment I step out of the car. “You’re here!”
“Bitch, you’re rich!” I tease, eyeing the sprawling mansion behind her.
Marie laughs, looking like the happiest newly wed in the world. She pulls me inside, chatting away. When I glance over my shoulder, I catch one last look of Aslan as he stalks away. His back is stiff, his broad shoulders tight.
Looks like I have my job cut out for me… Operation Break Aslan is fucking on.
