Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Embarrassed, my reply is barely a whisper. “Same.”
“The next time you’re a guest at my hotel, perhaps come and say hello.”
“Ma…”
“What?” she replies, glancing over Matvei’s phone. “I’ve not seen my son in years, and the one time he agrees to use the apartment I designed for him, he does it with a guest in tow.” Her accent isn’t as thick as Maksim’s, but it exposes she has lived in Russia longer than Matvei. “A woman’s heart can handle only so many rejections.”
Matvei replies in a foreign language I don’t understand. This eases the pain on his mother's face long enough for her to accept his offer to walk her out. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He gestures for his mother to leave his office first before he flips the camera back to him and snarls down the line, “Take this time to work out a suitable punishment. My hand has never twitched so much.”
As my thighs squeeze together, he dumps his phone onto his desk, gathers his coat from the coat rack, then exits his office.
For the next several seconds, I’m frozen in an equal amount of fear and excitement. I’m not solely hot and bothered by Matvei’s threat, the subject line of an email that’s just landed in Matvei’s inbox is responsible for part of the humid situation.
Black font on white surfaces is difficult for me to read, but the subject line in this email is in bold red ink. I couldn’t miss it if I wanted to.
Found him.
I curse my dyslexia to hell when I can’t read the snippet that email companies share to entice you to open the remainder of the message.
“You were showering that long and didn’t shave?” Taylor asks from her station on the couch when I race out of the bathroom to find the reading glasses I pretend I don’t need. Their heavy tint practically makes them sunglasses, but since I can’t explain why I’m wearing sunglasses inside like a dweeb, I’ve spent more time hiding them than letting them balance on the bridge of my nose. “And your hair isn’t wet… What the hell have you been doing if you’re neither shaving nor washing your hair?”
I wipe the wish for an interrogation off Saka’s face by answering in a way he refuses to argue about. “Masturbating. I was masturbating, but this guy’s junk is so small I can’t see a damn thing.”
“For fuck’s sake, Nat.” Saka sinks low on the couch before throwing an arm over his eyes like an image of me thrumming my clit is playing on repeat through his head. “You can keep some things to yourself.”
“Oh… I thought my life was an open book for you to ruffle through. My bad.”
I shrug off the urge to argue some more before entering my room and slamming the door behind me.
It takes making my room look like ground zero before I find my glasses. They help me read the one line of text underneath the subject line, but they do nothing to ease the stickiness of my underarms. The address written is so familiar because I punch it into the boutique’s customer database a minimum of once a month.
It is Jax’s home address.
A couple of seconds pass in gut-wrenching silence before an idea pops into my head. It isn’t my best idea, but it’s the only one I have, so I must run with it.
When I toss open the door of my freestanding closet, I take a step back. None of the dresses and coats filling it belong to me. They’re designer and pricy—some even too pricy for my previously sky-high standards.
I startle when a delicious accent sounds out of my phone’s speaker. “Don’t rate me too low on the selection. I asked the buyers not to replace your jeans and sweats.” I imagine the tilt of Matvei’s smirk more than I see it when he says, “They’d cause a delay undressing you, and I’m not a patient man.”
“You bought me a new wardrobe?”
He slumps low in his office chair before spinning it so his laptop is behind him. “Yes.”
With our interaction keeping his focus off unearthing Tyler’s location, I use his distraction to my advantage. “Why?”
“Because I hate being interrupted as much as I loathe having someone I crave withheld from me longer than necessary.” He runs his fingers through his hair, giving it a sexed-up look before exhaling a deep sigh. “But in saying that, I need to reschedule our engagement this evening. I have a matter gaining momentum and no time to let it slip through my fingers.”
“But I’m dying to see you,” I reply as my eyes stray to the reason for the urgency in my tone.
I really hope the gift box is waterproof or I’ll have to replace more than my sheets.
Matvei is pleased by the desperateness in my voice, but he governs as much self-control over his needs as he does mine. “Our date will still go ahead. It will merely be later than originally intended.”