Page 48 of Sexting the Single Pakhan

“You look great, too,” I say softly, fingers brushing the lapel of his tux. “Like sin in a suit.”

He chuckles, then steps back, offering his arm. “We have to go.”

Downstairs, the black SUV waits at the curb. Leonid opens the door for me, helps me in, then slides in beside me. The moment the door closes, he tells the driver, “Go,” and hits the button for the privacy screen.

He turns to me, one arm stretched along the back of the seat, fingers brushing my bare shoulder. “So… what made you change your mind?”

I glance out the window at the passing city lights, then back at him. “The curious part of me won. I’ve never been to a sex club. I’m… curious.”

He smiles, trailing a single finger along the side of my neck. Goosebumps rise instantly. “You can’t fool me, solnyshko. I know you’re nervous.”

His touch is light, calming the frantic beat of my heart. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” he adds quietly. “One word and we turn around.”

I shake my head. “I want to do this.”

He nods once, thumb stroking the hollow of my throat. “If you feel uncomfortable at any point, say the word. We leave. Understand?”

“Okay.”

The car glides through the city. He studies me for a moment, then asks, “Have you had dinner?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me guess…” His lips twitch. “Pizza?”

I roll my eyes. “What do you have against pizza?”

“Nothing. Except it’s not real food, and you consume it like it is.”

I laugh. “Are you worried I’m going to get fat and you won’t be attracted to me anymore?”

His gaze drops, tracing the plunge of my neckline, the curve of my breasts. Hunger flares in his eyes.

“I would never not be attracted to you. I’m just worried about your health.”

The compliment does something to my insides. I try to play it off. “Aww, you’re so sweet.”

He catches my hand when I reach to touch his face, brings it to his lips, and kisses my knuckles. “I’m anything but sweet.”

I smile. “If you say so… sir.”

The sound he makes in his throat is pure animal. His grip tightens on my hand.

“I would advise you to desist from calling me that,” he says, voice dangerously low, “if you don’t want to get into trouble.”

I open my mouth to poke him again, just to see what happens, but then I remember the driver on the other side of the partition. I doubt it’s soundproof enough to hide the moans I know he could pull from me right now.

So I bite my lip instead. Hard.

We hold each other’s stare for what feels like forever. Just then, the driver’s voice comes through the intercom. “We’ve arrived, sir.”

Leonid reaches forward and lowers the privacy partition. “The box.”

The driver passes back a small, matte-black case. Leonid takes it, then turns to me.

I glance at the box, then up at him. “What’s in it?”

He gives me that look, the one he always gives when I ask instead of just opening it.