Page 42 of Sexting my Bratva Daddies

The knob rattled, turned, and the door opened. Peyton stepped through, her face flushed and eyes downcast.

Had she heard us? Was she here to confess or deny everything?

Her head lifted, and she took a breath deep enough to lift her chest. “I’m sorry for interrupting. Everyone has gone home for the day.” She fiddled with the belt on her dress, a wraparound thing that had flashed the side of her leg more than once today when she moved. She moved deeper into the room, closing the door behind her. “I hoped I might have a moment alone with you.”

Misha took a step forward, his gaze locked on her, sweeping over body. It took me a second to realize he was searching her for a weapon using nothing but his eyes. If anyone could spot a hidden gun, it would be Misha.

Fingers moving clumsily, she untied the belt and dropped the dress from her shoulders. It fell in a pool at her feet, revealing a black corset lingerie set.

It pushed her breasts up and smoothed her belly before dropping to a pair of black lace panties I wanted to rip off with my teeth.

We all froze.

17

PEYTON

It took me a week to work up the courage to follow through, and I almost reneged at the last second. I’d been ready to make my move at lunch, but Elena kept hovering until my hour was up.

Now it was too late to pretend I hadn’t blurred the line between professionalism at work. Blur, hell. I obliterated it.

At least now I knew for certain no one would walk in on us or hear us. We were all alone. One flick of my wrist, and the door would lock. The elevator was already closed, and only one of our four key cards would convince it to come back online.

I did it. I forced my lungs to work. I’d crossed that forbidden line I’d been fantasizing about since Leo suggested I give him a blowjob beneath his desk.

All week, every time I saw him, I wanted to ask if he needed me for anything, hoping he’d understand what I meant. In the end, I decided to go the bold route.

And three sets of eyes stared at me because of it. They focused, gazes homing in on my exposed body. Anticipation crawled along my veins, and I shivered. I waited for one of them to move, to say something to encourage me.

Instead, for the first time, they hesitated.

Viktor shot a look at Leo, who shifted his stance toward Misha.

No. My throat tightened, the threat of tears blooming so fast, I couldn’t breathe. I’d finally allowed myself to be completely vulnerable with them, and they rejected me.

Okay, this was not rejection but it felt that way. Oh, God. What happened? Had they seen something in the harsh fluorescent lighting that turned them off?

My body was the same as always, though slightly more rounded in places thanks to the corset. “Sorry.” I bent to grab my dress. “Misread the situation.” My first attempt at grabbing the dress failed, my fingertips skimming the material but not holding on. I tried again, then again. Why couldn’t I pick up the insufferable thing?

Footsteps sounded, and my lungs seized. I knew those footsteps. Misha. He closed the distance in seconds and wrapped his hands around my wrists. “Leave it.”

I’d never heard him command like that, and it jolted through my body.

Curse me and my obedience kink. I should be tearing out of here, my face flaming in embarrassment.

Even Misha’s tone was off, slightly hurtful as he brought my hands up between us.

He didn’t release me either but held my wrists in a too-tight grasp. I looked up, prepared to meet his gaze.

Or I thought I was. Once again, I’d been prepared to see desire there. I was wrong.

My pulse spiked into a sprint, and I took several shallow breaths when my vision went spotty.

I couldn’t read his emotions.

There were too many to decipher.

I looked for disgust, and I was pretty sure I found distrust instead.