Page 6 of Twisted Little Game
Not ready for whatever amount of liquor she’s had tonight, clearly.
She squeezes my bicep tight, running her fingertips over the black lines of ink on my skin, her eyes dancing up toward my eyes, then my lips.
Very cute, but I don’t make a habit of putting my cock inside people who are blackout drunk.
“You need water,” I tell her.
“Dude,” she whispers. “Do you have an accent? That’s like, fucking hot.”
My Russian accent isn’t strong, but other people hear traces of it sometimes.
I lift an eyebrow, leaning close to her ear. “Vypeyte vody,” I tell her, and her eyelids drop as she grins. Speaking Russian seems to catch her attention.
“What’s that mean?” she asks.
“It means I need you to drink some water,” I tell her, saying the last three words slowly.
She pouts a little, clearly wishing that I had been saying something closer to let’s go fuck.
I guide her through the party, taking her toward the kitchen.
I find my friend Oliver tucked behind the long kitchen counter, mixing up one of the cocktails he’s been into making lately.
I mouth the word “water” to him and introduce him to the redhead. He gives me a salute, and I know she’ll be safe with him.
I pour a short glass of Cognac.
The front room of the house is even more crowded when I return, and I slide out my phone, tapping out a message with one hand.
Roman
Update on Tate Landrey?
Yegor Petrov
He’ll be on campus soon.
More info. Now.
You’ll have it when I have it.
I look up and see a glimpse of blond, though, and I realize I don’t need any further info.
Client located.
Tate Landrey is here.
He’s in the front room with a beautiful brunette girl at his side, and currently, he’s staring daggers at another guy.
Look at you, pretty thing.
Tate’s features are only more stunning in person.
High cheekbones, deep eyes, and a nice mouth.
The rest of the world falls away as I zero in on him.
“Show me the fucking screen,” Tate is saying, taking his hand out of the brunette’s back pocket and taking a step closer toward the other guy.
