The Master (The Game Maker #2)(46)

Máxim’s piercing blue eyes promised revenge. So why was I never afraid of him?

In a purring voice, I told the men, “Buenas tardes, se?ores.” I made a show of turning and shutting the sliding door, knowing how my ass would move, how that little bell would go off.

Ring ring ring . . .

I heard stifled groans behind me and gave them a silly me smile over my shoulder.

“Who is this, Sevastyan?” one asked.

He bit out, “Katya was just going to her room.”

I narrowed my gaze. Oh, it’s on, Russian. Now I was really going to f*ck with “boss.” I sashayed away.

In my dressing room, I rummaged among all my drawers of new clothes. I chose a tight black sports bra, pulling it on. My hot pink boy shorts surrendered to the cleft of my ass. I donned running socks and shoes, then pulled my hair up in a high ponytail.

I definitely needed to get water out of the kitchen before I tried out my new treadmill. Hydration is important!

I sauntered out. Though Sevastyan had his back turned and hadn’t seen me yet, he must’ve noticed his associates’ brows-drawn looks of lust, because his shoulders bunched with tension. Vasili stood by, shaking his head at me in warning.

“So sorry,” I told the men. “I needed something to drink. Tanning makes me parched.”

On my way back from the kitchen, one of them said in English, “You don’t have to hide her away, Sevastyan. It looks as if there is plenty to go around this table.”

Another said, “Share the wealth, man.”

A few of the other men made sounds of agreement.

I’d just reached Sevastyan, so I paused and draped myself over his back. “Oh, there’s no sharing. I’m Máxim’s alone. Isn’t that right, mi tesoro?” My treasure. “I’m his baby-mama. Or I would’ve been. So close,” I sighed to the men, my words heating Sevastyan’s ear. His muscles tensed against me. “You see, I’m not very bright. Someone like me wasn’t able to discern the manifest economic inutility of a woman my age getting pregnant with a strange man’s kid.” I giggled. “As my island grandmother always advised, ‘Don’t use your brain, mi preciosa. Use your uterus.’ ”

Between gritted teeth, he bit out, “Are you done, Katya?”

“Por ahora.” For now. I whispered at his ear, “Have fun in your stodgy meeting. And know that once I’ve logged my miles, I’m going to finger myself furiously.” I nipped his earlobe, smiled at the men, then traipsed away.





CHAPTER 21




“Pleased with yourself?”

I whirled around in the shower.

“Sevastyan!”

He was leaning against the doorway in the bathroom, watching me bathe. “I like it better when you call me Máxim.” He wore only an opened shirt and his slacks.

“What are you doing? You said you had an afternoon of meetings.” Scarcely an hour had gone by.

He gave a laugh. “I’m in Miami to be courted. I need none of them. When I heard your new treadmill stop, I simply called the meeting and rescheduled.” He began unbuttoning his shirt. How could he make that act menacing? “You disobeyed me, kotyonok.”

Even as my heart tripped, I squared my shoulders. “When bored, this kitten hops the fence.”

He bared his muscular chest. I wanted to sink my nails into his sculpted pecs. Running had made me as horny as ever.

“You’ve ensured that my enemies—and my brothers—will find out that I’ve finally taken on a woman.” He unbuckled his belt. “Evidently I was quite generous with gifts to her today. In fact, to the entire hotel.”

I asked innocently, “Baby boy didn’t like my little bell? No?” Hardening my expression, I said, “I regret nothing.”

“You never do.” He stepped out of his pants. “For someone who doesn’t like to shop, you did well enough.”

“I didn’t shop. I committed retaliatory consumerism. I could’ve gone for jewelry, really putting the hurt on. Also, I debated washing all of your expensive suits in the hot tub.”

As if I hadn’t spoken, he said, “I wasn’t quite ready for others to know about you yet.” He pulled his boxer briefs over his dick, making it bob. “So now I’m going to discipline you for disobeying me.”

“Oh, are you?” I’d meant to scoff. Instead, I sounded intrigued. “How’s that?”

He entered the large shower enclosure with me. “I’m going to spank you.” He yanked me close, his cock trapped between us.

More BDSM? “I don’t want that. I’m not going to let you abuse me.”

“Abuse is one-way, with the intent to hurt. What I do with you is for shared pleasure, and it is a two-way interaction. I’ll be assessing your response, as usual.”

“What does that mean?”

His mesmerizing eyes pinned my gaze. “I watch for your pupils to dilate, a sign of surrender that means you’ll let me do anything to you. Sometimes I hold your wrists to take your pulse and learn what makes your heart race. Even if I’m not touching your *, I can tell when you start to get wet; you get a pink flush from here”—he touched the left side of my chest and ran his finger in a straight line across my skin—“to here.” Dropping his hand, he grazed the backs of his fingers over one nipple. “This sweet little peak always hardens a moment faster than the other.”