She flashed a smile at me. “Not even close. I’m exceptionally careful.”
My mind raced. If this worked, I could recover our losses and deflect pressure from Grisha to retaliate. “I appreciate this.”
She leaned forward. “Want to hear the best part of this news?”
“There’s more?”
She nodded at the paper. “That may or may not also be holding all the stolen Italian inventory.”
My smile broke wide. “If I get their stuff back, they’ll become our allies for life.”
“That’s the point, right?” She drained her coffee and tossed the paper cup in my trash. “I should go. I have a date.”
“Let me walk you out.”
I followed her down to her car. I opened the car door and watched her get in. Then I leaned down and spoke quietly, with respect. “You’re making a difference, you know that?”
Her breath caught in her throat. “Thanks.”
I shut the door and watched as her vehicle pulled away.
It waslate and the house was dark when I got home. Anton and Oleg were long gone, and only the security guard was there, monitoring the perimeter with his dog.
I walked straight to the kitchen, filled a glass with ice and then poured myself a straight vodka.
What a fucker of a day. I leaned back against the island and closed my eyes. My men and I were working around the clock, and there never seemed to be enough hours in the day. I was exhausted and horny, but not for just anyone. The only woman who came close to making my dick hard was asleep, alone, in her bedroom upstairs.
And it had been this way since I had crossed my own damn line with her.
It didn’t matter how much I drank or how much I worked. Every single night, I thought of her. I played, on repeat, the memory of her arching against me while her entire body shook with her orgasm. And every single night, that memory got mehard. Then, as punishment, I didn’t let myself release to the thought of her.
I felt like that violated her in some weird way, and I couldn’t bring myself to get off to the thought of her. Tonight, like every other night, my dick was ready, hard and throbbing, without any promise of relief.
“Are you okay?” a soft voice asked from the other side of the island.
I opened my eyes and she stood there, in the shadows, like some sort of mirage from all my darkest fantasies.
She wore a cropped white tank top that did little to hide the beautiful curve of her breasts or the chilled nipples that pressed, two perfect peaked nubs, against the thin fabric. She wore a silky little pair of shorts, and her feet were bare. Her long hair was a torrent of curls down her back, and she looked sleepy.
“What are you doing up?” My voice was gruff.
“I came to get some water.” She sounded nervous.
I swirled the ice in my glass and took a long sip of my vodka, but I didn’t speak.
She crossed the kitchen, and I watched as she stretched up to reach the glass, which pulled her crop top a bit higher. Her full breasts jiggled with the effort.
I swallowed hard and took another sip.
She looked at me carefully as she used the fridge dispenser to fill her glass with ice and water.
I, in turn, couldn’t take my eyes off those magnificent breasts in her skimpy top.
She took a slow sip of her water, her eyes never leaving me.
“Mila.”
She swallowed. “Yes?”
