Devious Intentions (The Bobrov Bratva #3) Read Online Shandi Boyes

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: The Bobrov Bratva Series by Shandi Boyes
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
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When Yev’s eyes stray to the table Vasily mentioned, mere inches from our impromptu romp station, I shake my head.

None of the lies swirling in his head are true.

I was turned off by Vasily’s grind-up.

He made me wet, not Vasily.

Though he will have a hard time believing that when I demand he hide in the bathroom.

“Please,” I beg when “fuck no” sits on the tip of his tongue. “He can’t see you here. It will ruin everything.” I take a lesson from Natalya’s book when I barge him into the bathroom. “I’ll get rid of him, and then I will explain everything. I promise. I just need you to wait here until then.”

I give him a final pleading look before closing the bathroom door.

Its lock has only just clicked into place when Vasily bursts through my apartment door. As he drinks in my flushed cheeks and wide eyes, I step onto the scrap of material I once called underwear before kicking it under a side table. I’m not ashamed about the event Yev and I undertook, but I can’t have it ruining months of hard work.

“You look exhausted,” Vasily eventually says, shifting my focus back to him instead of my remorse.

I nod. “I said I was feeling off. I think I have more than a headache.” I swallow to ease the burn of my lies. “Why are you back? Did your conference get canceled?”

He waits a beat before shaking his head, freeing me to release the breath I am holding in. “I forgot my cell.” As he walks toward the chair he was seated on earlier, I flatten the strands of hair Yev’s hand mussed, before crossing my legs. The product of our exchange is seconds from dripping down my thighs. From the buildup, you’d swear Yev has forgone sex for as long as me. “I got halfway to the restaurant before I realized I won’t be paying for anything without my phone.”

He pays with his phone because he has no idea how easy it is to track your every move with that payment method.

Vasily freezes with his hand halfway into his pocket when something he said smacks into me. “Your conference is at a restaurant?”

I’m confident his business dealings aren’t legit, so the last place he should discuss trade is in public. I usually wouldn’t care what he gets up to, but I have a lot riding on his family’s reputation. A misdemeanor on his record is the last thing I need.

“Ah…” I’m glad to learn I’m not the only one struggling to be a two-faced liar today. “Yeah. Um… the buyers wanted to meet there. If they’re paying, we may as well eat.” He laughs like I believe a single word he speaks before he joins me in the entryway. “I really should get going. They bill by the hour, and I’m already late.” He leans in to press a kiss to my cheek, freezing when he notices how wonky the paintings on the wall are. It is the fight of my life not to barf on his shoes when he asks, “Was that me? I can be a little rough when excited. You just have a way of raring me up.” He sounds desperate when he asks, “Maybe we can finish what we started tomorrow?”

“Maybe,” I squeak out, willing to say anything if it will see him leaving sooner rather than later.

I’ll never forgive myself if Yev has overheard any of our conversation.

I remember Natalya’s notion that some people see maybe as a yes when hope flares through Vasily’s hooded eyes. “Great.”

Again, he presses his lips to my cheek before he hotfoots it outside.

This time, I make sure he can’t burst in unexpectedly by fixing the lock in place, and then I head for the bathroom.

My legs wobble with more than exhaustion when a draft whips around my ankles upon opening the bathroom door.

Yev also exited my building, but unlike Vasily, he used a window instead of the door.

Although there are a hundred things I want to say to Yev, I keep my text simple when I realize anything shared between us needs to be done in person.

Me:

Please don’t tell Alek.

I wait with bated breath when ellipses trickle on the screen.

Yev:

I thought we agreed to keep this between us?

As the panic swirling in my stomach makes room for confusion, my fingers fly across my phone’s screen.

Me:

Yes, but that was months ago. Before we… you know…

Mayhem smacks into me when he bombards my phone with cocky, condescending replies.

Yev:

Organized after-dinner entertainment?

I also told you you have nothing to worry about.

Alek and I are business associates.

I doubt he will have an issue with us dating.

You could do far worse than me.

And I have no issues ensuring he knows that.

These replies can’t belong to Yev. He’s cocky, but there is a big difference between cocky and arrogant.


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