Obviously so.
The fucking minx is tempting me since I refuse to speak to her after Vas suggested she stay. I raged at him for it, even though I show her nothing but calm disinterest. I don’t want her back here. She may be my wife, but she still betrayed me.
But for a good reason.
That’s what my mind keeps repeating like a broken record, but I’m not ready to admit that. I don’t think I ever will be. My cock throbs as her laughter filters down the hall from my office, where she sits conversing with Vas over the plans we’ve made for the upcoming gala. My mind keeps conjuring the unwanted image of her bent naked over my desk.
Ass red from my punishing hand.
Or my belt.
Fuck, maybe even both.
My head reels. My mind buzzes.
I shouldn’t want her still. Shouldn’t need her. My brain is on board with that. But hell, my body doesn’t get the message.
“Get out, Ava,” I growl as I stalk into my office, attempting in vain to will my rock-hard cock to soften. It doesn’t work. “I need to speak to Vas.”
The redheaded vixen glares at me, her emerald eyes darkening as she brushes past me, muttering “asshole” under her breath as she shoulder-checks me on the way out.
I let that go.
“You shouldn’t be so brusque to your wife.” Vas’s tone drips with disappointment, and it makes me feel guilty.
Somewhat.
“And you should mind your own business,” I warn him as I sit down in my chair. “Plus, she won’t be my wife much longer.”
Mysovietnikgroans.
“Tell me you didn’t.”
“Ben will have the papers here by the gala,” I tell him, grabbing a small bottle of whiskey from inside my desk. It’sa rare year, aged in an antique coffee barrel whose sides are charred to the point of perfection, drawing out the old oils of the coffee beans that were once transported inside.
Perfection.
“You’re a fucking idiot.”
I shrug, not caring in the least what he thinks.
That’s what I tell myself anyway.
“So, what did you need to discuss with me so urgently?” Vas asks, rearranging himself in his chair.
I huff a small laugh.
“Nothing. I just didn’t want her in here with me.”
Vas groans but doesn’t make a move to leave.
“You really are an asshole, sir.” He draws out thesirlike an insult.
“You shouldn’t have invited her to stay,” I snarl.
“I was trying to help your stubborn ass,” Vas insists angrily. “You have your head shoved so far up your ass?—”
“Remember who you’re talking to, Vasily,” I warn him. “We may be brothers, but I am still yourPakhan.”
