She reached the limo before the rest of us, sliding into the back seat with a practiced ease that made the hem of her dress ride up her thigh. I saw the line of her skin and felt heat wash through me in a constricting wave. I swallowed hard, forcing my brain to focus on anything other than the constant pulse that was making my cock jump.
Keep it together, Dragunov.
My brothers filed in next—Viktor loud and careless, Mikhail quiet and watchful. I took the seat across from her, tugging the door shut behind me. The interior smelled like leather and faint citrus. The tinted windows bathed us in cool shadows, giving just enough privacy to make this limo feel like a confession booth.
Petty thoughts tried to slip in—Mikhail had her shower-warm scent still clinging to him; Viktor wore her satisfaction like an invisible tattoo—but I shoved them away. The thoughts weren’t jealous ones, at least not exactly. Just frustration mostly. Maybe a little envy.
She rested her hands on her knees, fingers tapping an uneven rhythm she probably didn’t realize she was making. Her breathstill came a little fast from the walk. She caught me looking at her. Really looking. Instead of turning away, she held my gaze.
Issuing me a challenge.
No. An invitation disguised as one.
“What?” she asked, pretending she wasn’t aware of how she looked. “You stare a lot,” she added. “Should I charge you a fee?”
I leaned back into the soft leather seat, ignoring Viktor’s smirk. “Just admiring the scenery,” I lobbed back.
She raised a brow. “The skyscrapers or me?”
“Both,” I said without hesitation.
A flush touched her cheeks. She tried to hide it by shifting her gaze toward the window. A small victory, but a victory, nonetheless.
Mikhail noticed. His jaw flexed slightly, but he said nothing. Viktor saw it too and smirked like he was cataloging ammunition for later fights.
The limo pulled away from the curb, the city sliding past us in streaks of silver and gold. Katya exhaled softly and stretched her legs out. The dress rode up a fraction higher.
I felt it in my dick.
She turned her face toward me again, chin raised. “You don’t strike me as the shopping type,” she commented.
“I’m not,” I replied. “But I do enjoy watching my brothers make fools of themselves in public.”
“Hey,” Viktor protested.
“Only one of us behaved,” Mikhail said pointedly.
“I was charming,” Viktor defended.
“You were loud,” Mikhail corrected.
“You were both predictable,” I added.
Katya snorted. “That’s an understatement.”
My lips curved. “See? She understands perfectly.”
She crossed her arms, then uncrossed them when the motion pressed her breasts higher in a way she clearly hadn’t considered beforehand. Her eyes flicked to mine, almost daring me to comment.
I didn’t.
Not aloud anyway.
She bit her lower lip, flustered for half a second. “And you?” she asked. “What predictable trait do you have?”
“I’m the thoughtful one,” I said. “The quiet one.”
“That’s code for devious,” she replied.
