Vik (Shot Callers 2) - Page 7

“If you want a baby, you need to talk to Lev, get off the birth control, and start trying. Like, really trying. You get what I mean?” She snuffled out a small laugh, and I smiled widely, then swallowed down the sickness in my throat at the thought of my brother shooting his boys into Mina, but that was how it was done. “Go home and seduce my brother. Enjoy the process.” I sobered quickly. “It’ll happen, Mina. I just know it.”

I helped her wash her face, gave her another comforting squeeze, then sent her on her way, leaving me to clean up. As I disposed of the used pregnancy tests and wiped down the sink, I smiled at the thought of another niece or nephew to spoil. I’d have to get that from Lev and Mina, because—let’s be honest—Sasha wasn’t going to give me that.

It wasn’t that he was a manwhore or that he had commitment issues. Actually, it was the exact opposite.

I hadn’t seen Sasha with a woman in years, which didn’t mean much. I was sure he still got some. He was just uber discreet about it. And unless he was willing to introduce us to a woman, he sure as shit wasn’t going to have a baby with her.

So, when I arrived at Sasha’s later that night and saw the cars parked out front, I knew I was likely the last to arrive, as per usual. I let myself in and heard Sasha say, “You live down the path, Nastasia. Must you always be tardy?” That confirmed it.

He stood wearing a scowl with both hands on his hips like a disappointed father. Looked like one too in his dark-gray suit and impatient stance.

I removed my coat and placed it in the hall closet, then walked toward him, wearing a wide smile. “Nice to see you too, brother.” When I got close enough, I stood on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek briefly. He continued to glare at me, his golden eyes darkening slightly. I rolled my eyes and walked past him. “Relax. God, I’m here now. Let’s eat.”

Following the sounds of conversation into the living room, I entered the room and stopped in my tracks.

“There you are,” said Mina.

“Nastasia, must you always be late? Mina’s hungry.” That was Lev.

Anika was next. “Hey, honey.”

Then Cora. “About time you got here, bitch.”

But my eyes were fixed.

Vik moved to sit up the moment he heard my name, my three-year-old niece, Lidiya, hanging upside down in his muscly arms, giggling, her curly pigtails dangling from her head. And my uterus awoke.

Fuck me with a jackhammer.

Please, God. I beg you. Have mercy.

It was hard enough seeing the dark-haired, blue-eyed, built man be his beautiful, tattooed self, but playing with a child?

Ugh.

My heart stood no chance against that. None at all.

“Nas” was all he said. His whisky-smooth voice may as well have been whispered into my ear as goosebumps lined my arms. His intense gaze caressed me from across the room. I felt him everywhere.

This wasn’t new. This was how things were with us. We had an extreme effect on one another.

The best thing we could do for the sake of everyone around us was simply get along, and for a while, we did just that. But lately, Vik had been itching for an argument.

How could I tell?

Because he was doing everything possible to push my buttons. He made no effort to hide it either. If he wasn’t questioning my every decision, he was blatantly flirting with the dancers at Bleeding Hearts or making crude jokes to get a rise out of me. I knew he was hurt, so I kept it together, but my God, my patience had worn thin.

In short, Vik was punishing me. Again.

From behind me, with the king of all sighs, Sasha announced, “Let’s eat.”

The conversation was moved to the dining room, and once everyone was seated, Sasha got right to it. I should have been listening, but I wasn’t. I was too focused on the man sitting opposite me who looked to be undressing me with his eyes.

I swallowed hard and squirmed in my seat, staring down at my untouched plate.

When I chanced a look at him again, his eyes dipped to my throat, and the way his lips tipped up at one corner told me he noticed.

God, he looked amazing in black fitted jeans, a light-gray Henley, and the white Lacoste court master sneakers I’d bought him just because I thought they’d look good on him.

Spoiler alert—they did.

With his dark hair cut into a low fade with texture on the top, my hands clenched into fists under the table as I itched to run my fingers through it. I could almost feel his neatly trimmed stubble scraping along my inner thigh.

A shudder swept over me.

I picked up my fork and held it in distraction.

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