The Bookie (Chicago Bratva 6) - Page 15

More relief sweeps through her body, and she melts into me. Whether she’s just happy because she thinks I’ll give her the ring, or if it’s her body responding to my innuendo, I can’t be sure.

“Please, I’ll do anything. I’ll be your sex slave, if that’s what you’re into. I’ll give you my car, every piece of jewelry I own. I just need that ring back.”

My dick gets harder. “Come upstairs,” I invite, unclenching her fingers from my shirt to hold her hand. “I’m sure we can come to some arrangement.”

She allows the intimacy, staying by my side as we walk to the elevators. Once inside, I release my hold, and she backs up against the wall, her hands tucked behind her, her gaze pinned to my face. She’s wary but attentive. Obviously willing to do anything I ask of her at the moment.

I’m a bastard for all the dirty ideas flying through my head. Did she actually say the words, sex slave?

She’d look so damn cute in a collar and leash. I’d put a butt plug in her ass and make her crawl around…

I stop before I get a full-on boner.

I wouldn’t do it.

I’d be an asshole to take advantage of her plight. Still my dick doesn’t get the memo, and it remains chubby, hoping for some action.

I shove my hands in my pockets and regard her. She’s in a pair of black yoga pants and a long sweater that molds perfectly to her small but proportionate tits. Her dark hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun. Her generous lips look soft and kissable. I try not to think how they’d look stretched around my cock.

Neither of us says a word. I’m not sure my little sex-slave is breathing.

“I don’t accept sex as a form of currency,” I finally tell her. I don’t know why I let her off the hook so quickly. It would’ve been easy to make her sweat a few more minutes. Maybe I was afraid she’d pass out due to lack of oxygen.

She bobs her head in relief. “Good to know,” she chokes out. “I, um, don’t usually offer it.”

My lips twitch. “Yeah, I figured. But I sort of love that you went there. Now I’m having a hard time not picturing you in all kinds of compromised positions.”

She flushes a sweet shade of pink but is saved by the elevator ding from replying.

The doors swish open, and I place my hand at the small of her back to guide her into the hallway.

“This way, zayka.”

“What does zayka mean?”

“Bunny.”

I let her steal a look at me as I open the door. When I push it wide to usher her in, she stops just inside and murmurs, “Wow.”

I thought I was over impressing women with the magnificent floor-to-ceiling views of Lake Michigan, but apparently I’m not because I drink in her shock like it’s fuel.

“I guess being a loan shark really pays, huh?”

“Rich boss. He owns the building. I’m just lucky enough to benefit from it.”

“Did you recently move in?”

“How can you tell?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. It still looks uninhabited.”

I ignore the discomfort that snakes through my belly at her observation. Like the apartment is a metaphor for my life.

“Wait here, little bunny.” I leave her in my living room to retrieve the ring from the safe in my bedroom.

“I’m not your little bunny,” she addresses my back as I exit.

“No?” I call back from the bedroom. “A minute ago you were begging to be my sex slave. I think you’re whatever the fuck I want you to be right now. I hold all the cards, zayka, and it’s an unbeatable hand.”

“Poker metaphor,” she snorts. “How fitting.”

I walk out holding the ring case up. “Want it or not?”

She concedes, opening her palms and bowing her head. “Happy to be your bunny.”

“That’s more like it.” I smirk as I approach. I stand in front of her, hold the little jewelry box up and waggle it.

She eyes it. “So, ah, what arrangement are we going to come to?”

“I’m still thinking,” I admit.

She stops breathing again.

“The forfeit penalty goes on Zane’s account because he’s the asshole who fucked us both over on this.” She starts to interrupt, protesting the increase to Zane’s ledger, but I speak over her. “But I will give you the ring for a kiss.”

She falls silent. “A kiss where?”

I chuckle. “On the lips. I’m not that crude.” I turn away to adjust myself. “You just made my dick hard.”

To my delight, her eyes dilate, like she’s excited about the kiss. I tuck the jewelry box into her purse because I want my hands free for this, then cup the back of her head and pull her face up to mine. She rises up on her toes, and I have to lean forward to mate my lips to hers.

Tags: Renee Rose Chicago Bratva Romance
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