Deadly Intentions: An age-gap mafia romance (The Bobrov Bratva Book 4) by Shandi Boyes

Author:Shandi Boyes [Boyes, Shandi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Skye High Publishing
Published: 2023-08-10T16:00:00+00:00

21

NATALYA

“Get up!”

With my accoster’s voice more on edge than the one that’s been nagging me to get out of bed for the past ten minutes, I loosen my grip on my pillow and crank my neck to the person yanking away my bedding.

Taylor has left her room, and for once, she isn’t wearing pajamas. Her dress is daring, her makeup bold and risqué, and her legs are shining brighter than the disco lamp I’m trying to avoid. She looks set to run amuck, and I’m once again hating my decision to pull out of tonight’s festivities.

“If I can get over insensitive words and basic contact, so the hell can you.” Taylor digs through my closet for barely a second before tossing a sequined minidress onto my now-stripped bed. “Put that on, then meet me in the bathroom. Raccoon eyes went out of fashion over a decade ago.”

“Woman crushes on real-life people are legit, right?” Maria asks, her voice as erratic as the rise and fall of her chest. “They don’t have to be on celebrities. If so, I have a total lady boner for Taylor right now. She’s been on fire today.”

Her cocked brow drops back to above her eye when I ask, “What did I miss?”

“Nothing.”

Maria is a shit liar.

“Maria…”

After checking with Millie that it’s okay to spill the beans, and getting a halfhearted shrug as an answer, she plops her backside onto my bed. “When I arrived this afternoon, Saka was here. Things seemed heated.”

“Sexually heated?” I ask, hopeful.

She slaps my arm as if she’s a devoted Christian. “No, silly. Heated as in angry.” She nudges her head to the bathroom door just outside my room. “I think that’s why she agreed to come out tonight. She has some steam to let go of.”

Hating that I’ve been so caught up in my woes that I left my friend without a shoulder to cry on, I scoot out of bed, then rush into the bathroom.

The vanity is covered with every item in Taylor’s makeup kit, including the lipstick she only wears when she wants to be fucked.

Her eyes meet mine in the vanity mirror when I ask, “Are you okay?”

She issues me a fake smile. “Perfectly fine.”

“And as bad of a liar as Maria.”

She rolls her eyes before dragging me into the bathroom and plonking my backside onto the edge of the tub. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

She appears as if she wants to stab me in the eye with her eyeliner pen when I ask, “Because it hurts to think about, much less discuss?”

“Because I’m over talking. Words don’t fix shit.”

The groove between her brows softens when I say, “But they can sometimes lessen the pain.” When she remains quiet, I plea, “Talk to me, Tay. I’ve never seen you so quiet.”

It takes her attacking me with makeup for over five minutes before she finally cracks. “He won’t admit his mistakes.” I won’t need blush for how hard she blends in my foundation. “He’s adamant that

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