BRATVA'S OBSESSION
My cheeks warm, watching as he silently watched me with an unreadable expression.
I swallowed, averting my gaze back to the wound. “Was it the French?” I ask softly.
Sasha shifts his weight, pushing deeper between my thighs. “Yes.” He replies gruffly.
My heart hammers from our proximity, the thick steam of the bathroom not helping the situation.
“A Russian bounty hunter, hired by the French for a large sum of money. “ He continues softly, tightening his hold on my waist with clenched jaws.
My heart skips, fear flashing through my head, and Sasha could see right through it. “B-bounty hunter?” I asked shakily.