Page 17 of Sexting my Bratva Daddies

I never claimed patience as a virtue, though I learned how to equip it and hone it into its own kind of weapon.

But waiting for Peyton to message us back was torturous.

I should know. I’ve handled my fair share of situations that broke many of my friends. Too many.

Pulling my thoughts back from that hellhole, I stalked down the stairs and across the lobby to the open lunchroom. Peyton had taken her lunch fifteen minutes ago. Without answering our message.

I’d thought my hint about the message would be clear enough that she’d have given us an answer hours ago.

The empty lunchroom stretched toward the east side of the building, curving around a corner where we housed the coffee machines, microwave, and other amenities.

Peyton stood on the other side of the counter, tucked into the corner with her back to me and the room.

My adrenaline spiked, my hunter’s instincts kicking into full hunt mode.

Did she have any idea how dangerous it was to stand like that? Of course, she had not been faced with many of the situations I had, but still. Common survival instinct said to keep your back to a wall and watch all entrances and exits.

Or that was just me. Perhaps I should teach her. She’d been a more than willing student last night.

I moved toward her with silent steps, walking all the way into her space before I stopped to look over her shoulder. She gave no indication of seeing or hearing me.

I lived with silence as my friend, but to have this level of unawareness meant she had never been pushed to learn as I had.

She blew out a soft breath, her fingers swiping over her phone screen. Words appeared, then disappeared as she tried to work out a response.

I grinned, recognizing our text thread on the app. She was trying to figure out how to respond.

Even as I watched, she typed out three different responses, ranging from flirty to controlled, only to delete each one with a muttered exhale that almost sounded like a curse. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and chewed on it, her thumbs hovering over the keypad.

I took one more step and wrapped my arms around her. “You’d better be working out how to tell us you’ll see us again.” I nuzzled the side of her neck, unable to stop myself. “Because I’ve been thinking about you all morning, and you’ve made me wait far too long.”

Leo and Viktor would have my ass, but it was worth it. I’d never officially agreed to Leo’s orders.

Peyton spun in my arms, her gasp loud enough to echo around the room. “Misha!” Color exploded in her cheeks. “I mean, Mr.–”

“Misha.” I corrected her with a squeeze, my arms banding tight around her ribs.

Her pupils blew wide, her breaths coming in those short pants I’d learned how to interpret last night. Definitely attracted to me. To us.

Was it enough? I’d initially been hesitant about sharing her, but reading her responses in the app’s messages showed me it would be worth it.

Her hands spread across my chest, and for a single heartbeat, she seemed torn about whether to push me away or lean in. She leaned in, her chin tipping upward. “I didn’t think it was acceptable behavior to send personal text messages during working hours.” The color in her cheeks deepened. “Especially now that I know the men I’m talking to are my bosses. Now I’m really not willing to risk it.”

My laugh rang out dark and almost hollow. “Darling, the bigger mistake is making us wait.” I lowered my head a fraction. “But I know how you can make it up to us.”

Leo would tell me I was pushing too hard, too fast, that the power imbalance was skewed so far in my favor that she’d never be able to make an honest answer in this moment.

Fuck it. Leo wasn’t here. He wasn’t staring into her green eyes and seeing desire turn them glassy.

Her lips parted.

Footsteps on the far side of the room reached me. “Later.” I released her and took a step back as a thin, black-haired woman rounded the counter. Her eyebrows rose to her hairline when she saw us.

At least I’d moved far enough away that we no longer looked ready to kiss in the middle of the kitchen, but it had been close for a few seconds.

Too close.

And Peyton’s heightened color was such a dead giveaway that I might as well have kissed her, but then I would not have stopped at the approaching footsteps. I took a step back, hands resting casually by my sides. “Please send out that email as soon as possible.”