Page 10 of Brutal Reign (Bratva Kings #3)

God, why is that so hot? I would put him in his late thirties. I’ve always been attracted to older men, and even though I don’t have much experience dating them, I don’t find age a turn-off.

He studies my face before his hand lifts and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

“As someone who’s lived a good few more years than you, I know that life can kick you in the ass and deliver a different dish than the one you ordered, but I also know we’re capable of more than we think. Even in shitty circumstances.”

“Yeah, well, I’m doing my best.” A note of defensiveness creeps into my voice.

“I’m sure you are. We all are.” He taps his finger against the rim of his glass, then clears his throat. “When I was fifteen, I lost both my parents in a car accident. One phone call, and what I thought my future would look like… vanished.”

I blink, caught off guard by his openness. “I’m sorry. That’s horrible.”

“It was a long time ago, but it changes you, you know? Makes you realize how quickly everything can fall apart.” He meets my eyes. “And also how resilient you can be when you put it all back together. Even in the worst of circumstances, there’s hope.”

Hope . I shiver hearing my real name inadvertently fall from his lips.

I shouldn’t share my story, but something about his honesty makes the words spill out. “My mother died when I was eight.” I swallow hard. “My father, he didn’t handle it well. We don’t really speak anymore.”

He nods slowly, understanding passing between us without need for more words. “I’m sorry. That’s young to lose a parent. To lose both parents.”

“Yeah, well.” I take a sip of my drink, needing the burn of gin to steady myself. “Life, right?”

“Life,” he agrees quietly.

I don’t notice the space between us shrinking until our knees almost touch beneath the table. The place is quieter now, the crowd thinned out, and the music in the background is a mellow guitar riff.

My phone buzzes against the table, and I glance down to see a text from Chloe.

Chloe: You better be shagging your Viking by now. Remember our deal!

Heat floods my cheeks as I quickly flip the phone face down, hoping he didn’t see.

“Everything alright?” he asks, leaning back in his seat with that devastatingly casual confidence.

The movement makes his shoulders appear even broader, and I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to run my hands over them. Can I really go through with this? Taking him home, being with him the way Chloe assumes I already am?

“Just Chloe being Chloe,” I mumble. To change the subject, I add, “Has anyone ever told you, you kind of look like a Viking?”

He laughs, low and easy. “I’ve heard that before. I don’t take it as an insult.”

“Oh, it’s definitely not.” I look away quickly when I realize how fast the words tumbled out.

All night, I haven’t been able to stop staring at the column of his strong neck or the straight line of his nose. Or how damn good he smells, something clean and woodsy with hints of cedar and rain.

“Enough about me,” he says. His knee brushes mine again, and this time, neither of us moves. “Tell me something about you, Lily.”

I shift in my seat, fingers fidgeting with my glass, but don’t pull away. I was really hoping to avoid personal questions. “Uh, what do you want to know? I’m not very interesting.”

“I don’t buy that.” He lifts a brow. “Then tell me something about yourself that is interesting. Anything.”

I blink. “Like what?”

“Like what’s on your bucket list? Where do you want to travel?”

I hesitate, then look down at my drink, swirling the melting ice with my straw. At least he asked a question I can answer truthfully. “I want to see the fjords in Norway. Iceland too. Hike the kind of rugged, intense landscapes that make you feel small. Like you can disappear into the wind.”

“You like feeling small?”

I glance up at him, catching the suggestion in his tone first, then the flicker of heat behind his eyes. Something low in my belly responds to that look, and I don’t mind it at all.

“Not usually. But sometimes, it’s a relief. To feel like the world’s bigger than you. Like maybe your problems aren’t as huge as they feel.”

He leans in again, elbow on the table, gaze locked on mine. “That’s not what I expected you to say.”

“What did you expect?”

“Beaches. Cocktails. Somewhere warm.”

I smile. “Nah. I don’t like heat.”

“I do,” he says softly, his gaze dropping to my mouth for the briefest second before meeting my eyes again.

My pulse skips. I reach for my glass and take another sip to keep my hands busy.

“So what kind of books do you actually read?” he asks, a teasing note in his voice.

“For the record, I haven’t read any Viking historical fiction. Unless you count Viking romance.”

He grins. “That’s a thing?”

“It sure is. There’s a romance book for everything—aliens, monsters, demons, stalkers, Highlanders, doctors, mafia bosses.

” I shrug, unabashed. “I read it all. I like knowing the book has a guaranteed happy ending. There’s enough shit and uncertainty in real life; I like my fiction to be an escape.

Things can get messy as fuck in the middle, but they always work out in the end. ”

He’s quiet for a beat, simply looking at me. It’s... unsettling. Intimate almost, and a flush of desire pools low in my belly.

The bar is nearly empty now, other than one guy reading in the corner and a server wiping down tables to the rhythm of some soft indie playlist. The lights are dimmed, the candles on our table casting a warm glow over his strong features.

He leans in with a little growl. “Do you also read it for the dirty scenes?”

The tease in his voice makes something deep inside me clench. I’m not usually so forward, but for once, I don’t want to play it safe.

I reach under the table and rest my hand on his thigh, keeping it there long enough to feel the way his muscles shift beneath my palm. I expect him to joke, to flirt back with some slick line, but instead he goes still, eyes fixed on mine as if I’ve caught him off guard.

I start to pull back, a little embarrassed, but then I feel his hand cover mine, holding it there.

“That’s part of the appeal,” I admit.

“I want to know exactly what you like,” he murmurs.

Our eyes lock, and I swallow hard.

“I like books where the hero fights for the heroine. Where he’s possessive and a little dangerous, but kind to her.

Where he loses control because he can’t help himself .

” I can’t believe I’m admitting this, but it’s like he put some kind of truth serum in my drink, and I can’t hold back.

“I like when he’s so obsessed he’d burn the world down before letting anyone hurt his woman.

” His gaze turns molten, and I find myself blurting, “What do you find attractive in women?”

“Intelligence, first and foremost. Someone who challenges me, who’s survived things that would break other people.” His thumb traces over my knuckles, sending shivers up my arm. “Someone who still believes in happy endings despite everything.”

“That’s...very specific.”

“I know what I want.” His voice drops lower. “What about you?”

I should deflect, but alcohol and attraction have loosened my tongue. “Someone strong enough to make me feel safe. Someone who takes control so I don’t have to think about anything except my pleasure.”

The words, more daring than I meant, hang between us. His pupils flare, dark and hungry.

“You’re dangerous,” I breathe, surprised at how much I’ve given away.

“Only if you want me to be, Lily.”

God help me, I do.

This is it, the point of no return. I could leave, slip back to my lonely flat and let regret gnaw at me all night, but I don’t want to. I want this.

“My flat’s ten minutes from here.”

His smile fades, replaced by something dark and intense. “Are you sure?”

We lock eyes for a moment that stretches, everything around us falling away.

“I’m sure. But this can only be one night. My life is too complicated for anything more.”

He reaches across the table, his touch featherlight along my jaw. “Then let’s make every second count.”