In the Beginning (Volkov Bratva #1)(38)

“I would like to think so.”

Mishca helped Lauren up, her feet protesting from the heels she’d been in for the last few hours. Saying their goodbyes—and promising to see each other again in the near future—Lauren and Mishca made their exit, slipping out into the night. Mishca called for Vlad to bring the car around and they stood beneath the shelter of an overpass, keeping the falling rain from soaking them.

“I doubt you can make a run for it in those shoes,” Mishca said nodding towards them. “Want me to carry you?”

She looked bemused. “Won’t we move slower if you’re carrying me?”

“Want to put a wager on that?”

She tapped her chin. “What are the terms?”

“You give me a time and I beat it, you stay the night with me.”

Her breath caught as he turned the full force of those blue eyes on her. “And if you lose.”

He tucked her hair behind her ear, following the gesture with his eyes. “Then whatever you want is yours.”

In this moment, the only thing she wanted was to spend the night with him. “You won’t win,” she whispered back.

He chuckled, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “I love a challenge.”

She yelped as he dipped low, picking her and throwing her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing more than a bag of feathers.

“I haven’t given you a time yet.”

His hand settled on her thighs. “Thirty seconds.”

Like she would fall for that. “Fifteen.” She blocked her phone, setting the timer and showing it to him. “And…go.”

Mishca shot forward and as she mentally kept track of the time, a part of her was surprised that she wasn’t being jostled up and down too badly from his movements. He actually kept a firm hold on her, and they wee in the car before her phone even reached ten.

“Remind me,” Lauren said once Mishca had the door closed. “Never to bet against you again.”

“It’s a part of my training, but I normally carry three times your weight. You, my darling, were a welcome change.”

Despite their leaving early, they were soon engulfed in traffic. Lauren tugged off her shoes, sighing in relief as she wiggled her toes, easing the stiffness in them.

“Let me.” Before Lauren could protest, he swept up her legs, her feet in his lap. He shrugged off his jacket, unbuttoning the cuffs and rolling up his sleeves to give his arms more freedom.

“Mish, you don’t have—” Her words were cut off as she moaned, his thumbs massaging the arch of her foot. “Never mind. Keep going.”

He chuckled, continuing his ministrations until she was like putty in his hands. For a while, she just enjoyed what he was doing, but the atmosphere changed gradually.

His touch turned from methodical, to lingering, his fingers drifting up her ankle to her calve, slowly kneading the muscles, alternating between each leg. Lauren swallowed, wishing the rain was louder than her pulse racing in her ears.

She glanced up at his face, finding his eyes on her rather than what he was doing. His lids were at half mast and she could only imagine what he was thinking as he reached for her, pulling her onto his lap, her dress riding up as she straddled his lap.

The windows were darkly tinted and dark paned glass obscured Vlad’s view of them. With her hands on his shoulders, she leaned down as he leaned up, kissing him softly. Mishca shifted beneath her, his arms going around her to press her closer.

His hands continued to skim up her dress, along her outer thighs, gripping her tightly like he never wanted to let go. He made a rough sound in the back of his throat, one that made her respond in kind, deepening the kiss, tracing the seam of his lips with her tongue.

She drew back to take a breath, panting slightly as he moved from her lips to her neck, biting gently on the chord of her neck.

He locked eyes with her as he sat back, whispering words in Russian, explaining his meaning by drifting his hands down her body, starting at her throat, between her breasts, down to her stomach, until he reached her thighs.

“You can change your mind,” he whispered, this time in English.

“Like I would change my mind now,” she said with a laugh.

He smiled, wrapping a hand in her hair before pulling her down for another kiss, losing themselves in each other, not realizing that several minutes later, they had come to a stop outside Mishca’s apartment building.

They hurried through the rain, hand in hand, calling good night to Vlad on their way in. There was a doorman at the entrance who tipped his hat in their direction, speaking to Mishca by name and giving Lauren a warm smile. Taking the elevator up to the twentieth floor, Mishca drew out his keys and opened the door.

“Wow.”

As they entered the apartment, the first thing Lauren saw was the glass. One entire wall was made of floor-to-ceiling windows, broken up by sheer gray curtains that. It was quiet, just the sound of the rain pelting against the glass. She followed him into his bedroom, going over to gaze out at the park that his apartment overlooked as he fiddled with the thermostat.

It was a spectacular view, even if it were hard to see out. The little she had seen of his apartment reminded her of him. If someone had told her that in just a few months, she would be in an upscale apartment, dating someone that was more fantasy than reality, she would never have believed it.