Satin Princess(68)
Lev snorts. “Yulian doesn’t really discriminate between special and not so special. As long as she has a functioning pussy, she’s game."
“Charming,” Jessa drawls.
“Sorry,” Lev replies, though he doesn’t look apologetic whatsoever. “Crude but true. That’s good enough for Yulian.”
“Are you calling me a manwhore behind my back, Lev?” Yulian asks in his mock-hurt voice.
“No, I’m calling you one to your face.”
All three of them laugh, and I realize that there’s a tentative sense of comfort between my two closest Vors and the woman who’s carrying my child. It’s not something I’ve ever experienced before.
Marina wasn’t exactly the easiest woman to get along with. Lev avoided her, and Yulian was his usual immature self around her, though he never paid her any special attention.
But Jessa softens them. They banter and smile with her. She seems to know how to engage each of them in unique ways, drawing them out.
I can’t help but wonder if she's done the same thing to me.
At some point, Yulian drifts off to sleep, Lev takes his headphones and laptop out, and Jessa slumps lower in her seat.
She sighs deeply. “I want a thousand more of those cookies.”
I hand her my silver plate. “Here’s two to start with. The other nine hundred and ninety eight will take a bit longer to arrange.”
“I can be patient,” she teases.
“Are your cravings kicking in?”
She shrugs. “Maybe. But really, it’s just nice to have an excuse to eat.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Have you needed one in the past?”
“No. But people look at you weird when a hundred-twenty pound female finishes a whole T-bone steak by herself.”
“That’s a sight I’d like to see,” I laugh.
She looks over at me, eyes narrowed and thoughtful. “You know something? You’re not as scary as I once thought you were.”
“We’re back to insulting each other?”
“It’s a good thing,” she chuckles softly. A yawn cracks her face in two. “Do you mind if I take a quick nap? I’m feeling a little tired.”
“My shoulder is available.”
Her smile grows wider and she leans against me. Within seconds, she’s sleeping soundly, her hand wrapped around my arm.
Lev removes his headphones once she’s out. “I’ve never seen you like this,” he remarks.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know… calm.”
“I’m always calm.”
“Not like this. You’re at peace. Serene. Fuckin’ Dalai Lama over there.”
I know what he means, but the stakes are too high for me to admit as much out loud. Also, I’m not entirely convinced that Yulian is fast asleep.
Somehow, I’m not ready to forgive my brother enough to allow him into the inner circle of my thoughts. Especially as it pertains to Jessa.
“You ready for fatherhood?” Lev asks.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I say. “But I want Marina taken care of before the baby is born.”
“We’re both working on it,” Lev says, glancing at Yulian. “We’re checking every dark corner, every possible hideout, and keeping men stationed in plain sight, too. She won’t get past us.”
“Have you contacted Yaromir yet?”
“Yes. He’s open to meeting.”
“Any idea if Marina has made contact with him?”
“None at all. I figured it would be best to scope things out with him at the meeting. We can get a better sense if he’s lying or not.”
I nod. “You’ll accompany me to the meeting.”
“I expected to,” Lev says before glancing at Yulian. “What about him?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“When are you going to stop punishing him?” he whispers.
“When I feel like he’s taking this seriously.”
I watch Yulian’s fingers twitch slightly, but he certainly looks like he’s sleeping. It isn’t lost on me how little I trust him now. How suspicious I am of every little thing he does. Is that twitch a betrayal? Is that sigh a lie?
I don’t know. I just don’t know.
*
As the jet’s wheels hit the tarmac, Jessa wakes up with a gasp.
“It’s okay,” I say, rubbing her arm. “We landed.”
“Already?”
“You slept the entire flight.”
“Oh…” she mumbles, looking dazed and adorable. “I’m gonna go splash some water on my face before we get off.”
She heads to the restroom while Lev, Yulian, and I gather our things. When Jessa reemerges, she looks fresh-faced and much more awake.
She removes my sweatshirt and folds it over her arm. Underneath, she’s wearing a short, floaty blouse that reveals the slimmest sliver of her belly. The neckline is a deep V that highlights her breasts.
“You’re staring, Anton,” she reprimands playfully as she approaches me.
“If you want me to stop, you’re going to have to change.”
She laughs again, a musical sound that zaps straight to my dick, and we disembark together. We’re walking through the lobby of the airport to the front, where a car should be waiting for us, when Jessa makes an audible gasp and clutches my arm.