Page 10 of Pregnant Bratva Hostage (Dubrov Bratva #17)

My body is on fire.

I’ve been thinking about this kiss since the first day I saw him. Something I shouldn’t have wanted, but I have.

Tonight I was ten times worse. The way he held me, the way he took care of me. It left me desperate for more.

I couldn’t even sleep because all I could think about was him.

When he leaned close, I knew it was going to happen, and I had no intention of stopping him.

I want this.

I want to know what it feels like to have his perfect body move against mine, to taste him, to touch him—I want to experience it so that I can stop thinking about it.

This will purge him from my thoughts.

But that isn’t what’s happening. Instead of finding release in having his lips locked against mine and his hands traveling over my body, I’m finding that I want more.

I want everything.

He lifts me up onto the kitchen counter and pushes my legs apart.

Half of my mind screams no, stop.

The other half is begging him to tug my panties aside and thrust into me. I can feel his cock bulging against his pants. It's rock-hard, he’s as feverish with lust as I am.

Arkady slips his hands beneath my T-shirt, and his fingers brush over my naked skin.

My heart races. He pushes his tongue into my mouth, and I spread my legs wider.

What are you doing, Tania? Stop this right now.

The voice of reason starts screaming louder the more desperate I become to have him.

Panic sets in, and suddenly I can’t do this. I have to get away.

“Stop,” I mutter, pushing him.

He steps back, his breathing heavy, his hands still on me.

“I can’t do this. What are we doing?” I blurt out, my eyes searching his face.

Arkady’s eyes are so wickedly locked onto me that my heart practically stops beating for a second. My resolve slips. Why shouldn’t I take what I want?

Don’t do this.

No.

Stop.

I push him away again and he takes another step away from me. He clenches his jaw in frustration, and I slide off the kitchen counter.

“I’m…” I don’t even know what to say. Arkady stands still as I bolt out of the kitchen. I’m so deeply embarrassed I can’t face him for another second. I can’t believe I was about to have sex with him. The guy who kidnapped me.

I still want him, even as I run into my room and close the door behind me—my heart is racing, my body is pleading for more.

The kiss didn’t help purge him from my system. It made the longing ten times worse.

Groaning loudly, I flop onto the bed and bury my face in the pillow. What have I done?

Why does he have to be so freaking sexy? I’ve never in my life seen a man more sexy than him. And that stupid smile. The wicked little curve of his lips. Those bright blue eyes. His body.

I roll onto my back and stare up at the white ceiling.

My room is dark. It’s late.

I need to try and sleep. Lying here thinking about him isn’t going to help anything.

Tossing and turning all night, I get very little sleep. Every time I do manage to drift off, I dream of him and wake up more annoyed.

It’s a horrible, restless night.

***

Over the next week, I still struggle with my attraction to him, but I do everything in my power to ignore it—and to hide it from him.

The listening device we set up in my uncle’s office is connected to a receiver in Arkady’s home office, and often he sits in there listening to the conversations.

It’s late in the afternoon when Arkady comes into the living room where I’m reading.

“Your uncle is getting suspicious about your vacation.”

“I don’t know what you want me to do about it?” I shrug. I don’t have my phone; Arkady does. I’m a prisoner here. What does he want from me?

“Come sit with me in the office for a bit. We can sort it out.” He tilts his head to the side, gesturing for me to follow him. The idea of sitting close to him does not seem like a good idea to me. I have to stay away from him, not tease myself with his presence.

I let out a soft sigh and stand up to follow him. His hand brushes over my back as I walk past him, and bolts of lightning shoot through me.

In the office, he pulls out a chair close to his and taps the seat.

“Sit,” he commands.

I do as I’m told. His thigh is pressed against mine. I ignore it as best I can and focus on what he’s telling me.

“Here, I’ve booked you a plane ticket to Hawai’i and made reservations at a beach villa for you. You can send your uncle this information. That should settle him down a bit.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea. Okay. I’ll need my phone, though.”

He slides my phone across his desk towards me.

My fingers touch the glass screen. I glance at him, waiting for him to lecture me on behaving and not trying anything. But he doesn’t.

“I’ve sent you the booking confirmations. You can screenshot them,” he says, turning his attention back to the listening device. He twists the volume, and my uncle’s voice comes louder through the speaker.

It grates right into me. It boils my blood and makes my muscles twitch with anxiety. Just the sound of his voice. He’s not even here, he’s far away, in the building a work, nowhere near me. Yet I’m struggling just to listen to him.

I busy myself with my own task, writing out a message to Uncle Boris, along with the flight information and everything Arkady has set up for me.

When I’m done, I slide my phone back to Arkady. Obviously, he isn’t going to let me hold onto that.

He tilts his head towards the speaker. “What do you make of this?” he asks, rewinding a bit to replay the last thirty seconds of a conversation.

I shift closer, meaning to pay more attention, but instead I end up pressed into him. It feels good.

He presses play. My uncle’s voice comes through the line again.

“The Andreevs are code black now. I wanted to change direction and move to the alternate warehouse.”

“Sir, we don’t know that putting out a code black just yet is a good idea.”

“Are you questioning me?” my uncle blurts out angrily.

Arkady presses pause. “What does that mean—code black?”

I bite my lip. “If I remember correctly, code black means that you aren’t a person of interest for the time being. Meaning that if they are planning an attack or something, then you aren’t the target that is going to be most beneficial to them.”

“Mm,” Arkady mutters to himself. “I guess we’ve made it too expensive for him to come after us. He’ll be looking at some of his other rivals, then.” He leans back in his chair and brushes his hands over his head. He looks exhausted.

“You’ve been in here listening for days,” I say, watching his arm muscles flex.

“I’m trying to hear something useful. So far, it’s been nothing. I don’t know if the whole damn thing was a waste of time.”

For some reason, I want to reassure him, even though it’s my own uncle he’s basically hunting.

“You might be missing some of the other codes he uses; there might be hidden messages you’re not hearing,” I suggest.

“Are you volunteering to help?” he snorts.

“I can help,” I shrug. “If it gets you to let me go sooner, and not hurt the rest of my family.”

His eyes narrow towards me. His gaze moves over my face. My heart races beneath his stare, and my cheeks begin to glow pink.

I look away from him, unable to handle it.

He chuckles, that dark, delicious laugh, and I bite at my lip.

“Okay, darling. You should help, then. But I need to grab something to eat. Everything is recorded, but if you hear anything useful, make a note in here. I won’t be long, then we can listen together.” He taps a notebook lying on his desk.

I nod. “Okay.”

“Do you want something to eat?” he asks, setting the listening device back to live conversation instead of pre-recorded bits.

“Sure, whatever you’re having.” I smile tightly.

“I’ll be right back.”

I watch Arkady leave, the way his ass flexes when he walks. Dammit. He’s hot.

Listening to my uncle’s conversations is pretty boring, and I end up doodling in the notebook Arkady told me to write in.

I’m busy drawing a little rabbit when my uncle starts talking about an operation against one of their rivals.

“We’ll get that woman from accounting, the quiet one, and the two guys from the design team. Those three were hired because of their family ties to that rival group.”

“Do they know?”

“Of course, they don’t fucking know, you moron.

None of them knows. Let’s pull the woman out first. And we’ll need to grab her daughter from pre-school.

Just as a backup in case she doesn’t cooperate.

She’ll be more motivated to help us if her daughter is used as a negotiation tool.

” My uncle speaks so casually about people’s lives and their families.

Their children. This is exactly what happened to Rose.

She was used. She was hired because of her past, and she was used in one of his plans.

And now he’s doing it again.

My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach, and I stare at the speaker, silently hating him even more.

He’s a monster.

He doesn’t care about a single one of those people who work for him. They are nothing more than tools, stored on a shelf, to be picked off as needed. He doesn’t even see them as human beings.

I thought that after our fight about Rose, I thought maybe he would stop this. But he will never change.

It’s me who has changed. I’m seeing things for what they are. And in this moment, I’m not blinded by my fear of him. All I’m worried about is stopping him from hurting that woman or her family.

Tears spring to my eyes as I think about Lily again, and how she almost lost her mother because of me—because of my uncle. And he’s about to do the same thing again.

For what?

For power? Money? Status?

It’s disgusting.

Arkady walks into the room and stops in shock, holding a tray of snacks.

“What’s going on?” he asks, tensely.

I look up at him, wiping the back of my hand over my cheek, not caring that he can see I’m crying.

“They’re all dispensable to him. They mean nothing to him. He doesn’t care about their lives, he doesn’t care about them at all,” I sniff.

“What is going on, Tania?” he asks again, setting the tray down on his desk.

“My uncle is planning to use someone I work with, the same way he used Rose, to manipulate a situation against his rivals. I can’t let this happen anymore, Arkady.

What happened to Rose—I could have stopped it, and I didn’t.

I kept quiet because I was too scared. And I hate myself for it—every single day, I hate myself. ”

I stand up, pacing up and down the office, my hurt turning into anger.

Arkady watches me, leaning one shoulder against the wall and folding his arm across his chest. “This is really bothering you,” he muses.

“Isn’t it bothering you? They’re people. They’re being treated like tools. Please, Arkady. You have to help them,” I plead, trying to reach in and stir that stone heart of his.

He grins again.

“And you want me to help you help them?” he says calmly.

“Yes,” I say, throwing my hands in the air. “Don’t you want to help them?” I huff.

“Mm. I’m not sure.”

I carry on pacing, getting annoyed with him, frustrated that I’m so helpless in this situation. Every time I walk past him, I brush against him; the space between the desk and the wall is narrow.

He doesn’t move, and I get even more annoyed.

Why did he have to stand there in the first place?

“What is it you want me to do?” he asks.

“You’re supposed to be the big, strong, unbeatable Andreev family—there has to be something you can do?” I snap.

When I walk near him again, he grabs my arm and pulls me close to him.

“And what will you do in return for me?” he asks, his voice low, smooth, and dark. My mouth drops open as I stare into his eyes.

Is he really suggesting what I think he’s suggesting?

“I, uh—I—” I stammer, my body heating against his. My lips tingling with the anticipation of kissing him again. He slowly lets his hand slide down my back as he pulls me tighter against him.

“Well, darling. What do you have to offer me? Something I want.” The words drip from his lips like honey.

“What—what do you want?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.

He wraps his hands around my waist and moves me, pressing my back against the wall. He pins me beneath his body and whispers against my ear, “You know exactly what I want, Tania.”

A shiver tingles down my spine.

I’m about to agree to anything—absolutely anything—

Arkady leans back, the smile on his face tells me he’s messing with me.

“I want you to be more cooperative. No more arguing. No more difficulties. No matter what I ask of you,” he says sternly.

Are you kidding me? My hormones scream in annoyance.

I nod.

“I can do that.” I’m still nodding. Stop nodding, Tania, you look like an idiot.

I hold my hand out towards him. “Deal,” I say, forcing strength into my voice.

“Deal,” Arkady says, taking my hand. But he lets his thumb rub slow circles over the back of my hand, and that wicked smile hasn’t left his lips. My heart is still racing when I pull my hand away.