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I pull away from her. “She died a long time ago. Sergey is the only person I ever had to depend on.”
Despite it all, that throughline of loyalty Sergey planted in me all those years ago is still there. He may regret adopting me, but my impulses are still the same.Close ranks. Protect the Bratva. Family above all else.
“I’m sorry I said anything about him. He just scared me tonight.” She sits up so the water laps around her narrow waist. The blue light reflects off the swell of her breasts. “I’m not feeling very charitable towards him right now, but he’s still your father. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Ashley lets out a sleepy snort and slouches further into the water. Her chin hovers just above the surface. I make no move to help her, but Piper hurries over. She stands with a foot on either side of Ashley’s legs, hooks her arms under the unconscious woman’s armpits, and heaves. It’s almost comical, watching Piper’s petite form struggle with Ashley’s long limbs.
Then I notice the way the lean muscles in her back shift and pinch as she works. As she hauls Ashley up, I can see the dimpled impressions just above the black line of her bikini bottoms. My thumbs would fit nicely there, my fingers wrapped around her hips. It’d be so easy to manhandle her exactly the way she deserves.
“You really aren’t going to help, are you?” Piper looks over her shoulder at me, and I’m glad for the coverage of the water. It hides the hardest erection I’ve had in years.
I recline back against the edge of the hot tub. “You’re handling things fine on your own.”
Piper gets Ashley situated so her head is pillowed on her arm. A line of drool flows out of her mouth and puddles on the wooden deck.
“The one time I don’t want to handle something on my own is the time you let me,” she grumbles. “Figures.”
She takes a step back away from Ashley, but her foot slips off the bench. Suddenly, Piper is falling sideways.
The scene plays in my head in a flash.Piper bashing her skull against the hard rim of the hot tub. Fractured bone. Blood.
Usually, I’d let it play out. I don’t owe anything to anyone. If they can’t stand in a fucking hot tub without cracking their heads open, that’s no trouble to me.
But before I really think about it, I’m up and wrapping an arm around Piper’s middle.
She lets out a yelp, but it cuts off with an exhale as she lands in my arm. My hand cradles the back of her head just an inch from the edge of the hot tub. A millisecond away from disaster.
I hold her there for a second, letting the gravity of the moment hang.
Piper twists to look at me. Shock is etched in every line of her face. She swallows. “Thank you.”
I tighten the arm around her waist and bring her to standing. I’m standing in the center, which is a foot lower than the rest of the hot tub. We’re as close to eye level with one another as we’ll ever be.
Still unsteady, Piper leans against my chest. Her breasts brush across my rib cage. Her fingers trail over my biceps.
The entire time, her eyes haven’t left mine. Not for a second.
Ashley or not, I will take Piper right here. I’ll wrap her legs around my middle, shove her tiny scrap of a bikini to the side, and fill her with my throbbing cock until she screams my name.
Because I want to hear her scream my name.
Instead, I hear my father’s voice in my head.
The moment you get that bitch in bed, your head will clear. You’ll realize what kind of mess you made.
Piper is a distraction. Fucking her now won’t serve my overall goal. The only thing I need from Piper is to pretend. I need her to pretend for the sake of my reputation, for the sake of Viktorov Inc.’s reputation. I need her to pretend so the Bratva I’ve built for Sergey doesn’t fall apart around us.
All at once, I release Piper and sit on the edge of the hot tub. She’s still frozen in the center, her chest heaving from the intensity of the moment.
“Sit down before you kill yourself,” I bark.
A myriad of expressions cross her face at once. She blinks in surprise then frowns in annoyance. Finally, she smooths her flushed face into a mask of indifference and sits down, choosing a spot further from me and closer to Ashley.
“You’re no good to me dead,” I add.
“Being dead wouldn’t be so convenient for me, either,” she says coldly.
“You probably can’t afford anymore sick days at work.”
