The Player (The Game Maker #3)(16)

Dmitri Sevastyan’s expression was half longing, half dark possessiveness, as intense as everything else about the Russian. “Was that too much? I want you to be comfortable with me.”

“I’m just a little . . . overwhelmed. I’m gonna slip out.” I really didn’t want to say good-bye and how nice to meet you to all of them right now.

“I understand. I will see you home at once.” He fished his phone from his pocket, texting even faster than Pete. “We can leave through the doorway at the end of the hall.”

Minutes later, we’d arrived downstairs and a sleek Mercedes limo was pulling up to the VIP entrance. This private drive was shielded behind the Calydon’s gate—so barbarians like my family couldn’t get in.

A nondescript brown-haired bodyguard opened the door for me, asking for my address. I muttered it, and Dmitri helped me in.

Then he sat beside me.

I blinked. “I thought you’d just see me off.” Good God, this was going to be the longest fifteen-minute ride of my life.

In reply, he reached for me, pulling me across his lap—as if he couldn’t get close enough to me. So much for a player’s disdain.

His body heat and scent lit me right back up again. My ass still tingled from my spanking. Blush. “You keep putting me on your lap.”

“Why should I not?” The question wasn’t rhetorical. He was genuinely curious.

I didn’t have an answer for him, so I just sighed.

In a low tone, he said, “I have . . . difficulty reading others. Did I do too much?”

“Of what?”

“Are you angry that I came on you?”

My eyes widened. Okay, then, let’s talk sex. I dragged my mind back to business. I needed to ignite his desire for a future encounter, while planting some good-girl seeds. “When I felt your cum, I loved it. My first thought was that it would go between my lips next time.”

His lips parted on a breath. “Victoria . . .”

“But I’ve only known you for a few hours. I worry I gave you the wrong idea. I don’t behave like this. Ever. I made it to twenty-four with only three notches in my belt, and those experiences were vanilla.” I’d enjoyed my ex’s linebacker physique and had gotten off with him more times than I hadn’t. But, yeah, sex with Brett had been relatively tame.

“Did anything else make you uncomfortable?” Dmitri asked.

“I don’t know about being spanked. About . . . BDSM.” I liked things simple. From what I’d seen online, BDSM seemed to be all about props and wardrobe and power dynamics. As if I didn’t have to deal with those three things enough when conning.

Too much work; too much prep.

“It made you come hard, no? What if we agree to stop as soon as it fails to do so?” He assumed we’d be spending that much time together?

“Do you want to tie me up?” What did my future hold?

“Yes. I want to control the pace of what happens between us.”

“When did you get interested in this stuff?” Had I put off a spank me vibe to Dmitri? Was that why he’d engaged with me instead of Karin? The thought made me uneasy.

“A year ago. My brothers have those leanings. I got the idea from Maksim.”

“Do Lucía and Natalie share those leanings?”

“Proudly.”

The PhD and the heiress? Mind blown. “Is that why you got your piercing done?”

“I suppose it’s all related.”

“You just woke up and thought, I could pierce my dick today?” Maybe for a lover?

He shrugged. “I considered the decision for a while. I wanted to make myself different than I’d been, and I thought it would alter the . . . sensations.”

Different. Altered. What was wrong with how he’d been?

“I had it done a few months ago.” He paused. “You don’t mind it?”

“I’ll probably dream about your dick tonight.”

“I could stay over and ensure that.” Oh, he could be so charming.

Dmitri was a conundrum. At times tonight, I could sense him struggling socially—hesitating before he spoke, gazing away, seeming to have more in common with quiet Aleks. Yet then Dmitri could turn around and demonstrate as much charm as Maksim.

“Why have you slept with so few men?” he asked.

“I wasn’t exactly intent on preserving my virtue, sirrah.”

The corner of his lips almost tilted up. A micro-smile. “Then why?”

Residual tequila made me reveal my superpowers: “I can always tell two things. When someone is lying to my face, and when someone is selling me. The words sound like nails down a chalkboard to me. It’s always been that way.” A handy talent. “When I was a teenager, the guys I fooled around with pulled out all the stops to close one deal in particular. It turned me off like a bucket of ice water.”

I remembered all their ploys.

My parents are out of town—but only for this weekend. (This deal won’t last long!)

If you don’t wanna be with me like this, maybe I’ll find a girl who will. (Act now or lose this opportunity forever!)

We don’t have to go all the way; I’ll only put the tip in. (Sign and drive! No cash down!)

Dmitri tucked a stray curl behind my ear. “I will never lie to you.” Eventually he would. They always did.