Page 14 of Sexting the Bratva Boss (Text to Touch)

The moment my fingertips touched his heated skin, electricity shot through my entire body. His muscles went rigid under my touch, and I could feel the raw power coiled beneath his skin .

He looked down at my hand, then slowly raised his gaze to meet mine.

"It's just a few drops of oil," he said, his voice low and rough.

"I don't care." I didn't let go, stubbornly meeting his stare. "Get a lid to cover it."

We stood there for several seconds, locked in this weird standoff. Finally, he looked away first—a small victory.

"Where are the plates?" I asked.

"Cabinet over there." He pointed.

I released his arm and walked over to get two white plates from the cabinet. I could feel his eyes tracking my every movement, the weight of his gaze like a physical touch burning into my back.

When I turned to hand him the plates, he didn't take them right away. He just stood there, studying my face. We were close enough that I could see the shadow of stubble along his jaw.

"Eva," he said suddenly, "do you like watching me make you breakfast?"

"I like watching you-" I paused, choosing my words carefully, "taking something small seriously."

"Oh?" The corner of his mouth curved into that dangerous smile. "And do you like the other things I do for you?"

The innuendo in his voice was unmistakable. I felt heat creep up my neck and turned away from his burning gaze, setting the plates on the counter beside him. "Your bacon and eggs are about to burn, Mr. Yvannov."

He chuckled—a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through me.

He turned back to scoop the food onto the plates.

"Sauce," he said, like he was giving an order.

"Which one?"

"Ketchup, or whatever. Cabinet behind you."

I opened the cabinet he'd indicated, finding it stocked with unopened condiment bottles. I grabbed the ketchup and was about to hand it to him when he moved behind me.

He reached around from behind, his arm brushing my side as he took the bottle from my hands. Suddenly, I was trapped between his body and the cabinet, his chest pressed against my back. I could feel his heart beating strong and steady, his warm breath tickling my neck and ear.

My breathing immediately went haywire.

"You—" I tried to speak, but my throat was too dry to make a sound.

"Just getting the sauce," he murmured in my ear, amusement clear in his voice. His other hand settled on my waist, his burning palm branding me through the thin silk shirt.

"You're in my way, маленькая кошка."

He gave my ass a light pat.

"This shirt looks good on you," he said, then stepped away.

My knees nearly buckled.

I turned around to find him carefully squeezing a smiley face in ketchup next to the egg on the plate—such a childish touch that was completely at odds with everything I knew about him.

"You have something-" I noticed a small spot of grease on the side of his nose.

I reached up to wipe it away with my fingertip. He caught my hand before I could pull back, pressing my palm against his cheek. Then he leaned down and pressed his lips to the center of my palm.

He pulled me into his arms, his other hand gripping my lower back and pressing me against him. Through the thin fabric of his sweatpants, I could feel exactly how my touch was affecting him.

"Now," he said, looking down at me, "go get ready so we can eat breakfast."

I ran my hand over the hard length of him through the fabric, grinning wickedly. "Ruslan, you're already hard. Sure you don't want to do something about that first?"

My fingers traced patterns across his bare chest.

I felt his body go completely rigid, his jaw clenching. "Breakfast first."

He stepped back and picked up both plates.

I quickly showered and tried to get my heart rate back to normal.

While brushing my teeth, I scrolled through my unread messages .

Ivanka had sent a selfie from some party last night, flashing a peace sign with that carefree smile of hers.

After everything that had happened since getting my phone back, I'd been too caught up to reach out. But real friends don't get weird about temporary radio silence—sometimes a single message is enough to prove the friendship is still there.

Me: how's it going, princess?

Ivanka's response was almost instant.

Ivanka: same old same old. u?

Ivanka: after I gave you that agent's contact info, you went completely MIA. I was scared it went badly so I didn't want to ask—how did the audition go???

I thought about the man currently making breakfast in his kitchen, and something warm and complicated spread through my chest.

Me: good news actually. landed a supporting role in a show, been filming for over a week now

Ivanka: I KNEW you'd kill it!

I finished brushing my teeth and checked for more messages. Nothing new from Ivanka.

Then I got a wicked idea and pulled up Ruslan's contact. His name was listed as "Ruslan Yvannov" in my phone.

My fingers flew across the screen, and within seconds he had a brand new, personalized nickname.

Sourpuss.

Oh my God, it was perfect! I almost laughed out loud.

I switched back to Ivanka's chat.

Me: about to eat breakfast, later!

Then I headed to the dining room.

Ruslan had already pulled out my chair like a perfect gentleman. I sat down as he pushed it in for me.

On my plate was a slightly overcooked egg and crispy bacon that smelled amazing.

This imperfect breakfast that he'd made with his own hands did something funny to my chest—like something soft had just knocked against my heart .

I picked up my fork and knife, cutting off a piece of bacon with slightly charred edges. He didn't touch his own food, just watched me intently. Beneath those calm blue eyes, I could see tension and anticipation.

"How is it?" he finally asked, unable to hold back.

I chewed slowly, tasting the slight bitterness of the burnt parts mixed with the rich, smoky flavor of the meat.

I looked up to meet his intense stare and gave him a genuine smile.

"It's delicious."

I meant it. Maybe it wasn't the best breakfast I'd ever had, but it was definitely the most special.

I watched the tension in his jaw visibly relax before he finally picked up his own utensils and started eating.

In that moment, this powerful, intimidating man seemed unexpectedly adorable.

God help me, I was falling hard.