His hands find my purple lace panties. I try to shimmy out of the way, my stomach flipping when he pulls me back to him.
“A kiss,” he demands.
“You’re needy.”
He catches my lips and I’m glad I haven’t applied any lipstick yet.
I shove him away. “We will be late.”
“It’s my party.”
“At your father’s.”
“He won’t care.”
“Your grandmother will.”
He sighs but doesn’t put up a fight. It’s one thing to piss off Lev, it’s another to piss off Irina.
“Yeah, all right.” He goes into the closet to find some shoes. He comes back out to find me in the foyer, gathering things. “What’s that?”
I hold up a gift bag. “For Roma.”
He frowns. “Why?”
“Because it’s his birthday.”
“Why’d you get him two?” He points to the bag in my other hand.
“It’s for you.”
He runs an eye down my body. “But that’s not what I requested.”
Cheeks burning, I turn toward the door. “What you requested will not be occurring in front of your family.”
He grabs Roma’s gift and tries to get the other one. I refuse, not letting him hold it.
“What is this?” He snoops in Roma’s bag.
“Whiskey.”
“Whiskey?” He lifts an eyebrow as we enter the elevator. “You got Roma whiskey.”
“Your dad said it’s his favorite.” I thought that wasn’t very patriotic toward his Russian heritage, but who am I to judge?
“Huh,” he says under his breath. “And when did you talk to my father?”
“Yesterday when I asked you what to get Roma and you said that dickhead deserves nothing and we should skip the party.” In typical fashion, I’d texted the question and received a phone call with his response. I rolled my eyes and promptly phoned Lev the moment I ended the call.
“I thought it was just a family thing,” I say when we arrive. Cars fill the circular driveway.
“I told you,” he said.
“Roma’s gonna hate this.”
He parks in the garage like always, preferring to sneak in through the kitchen. “Quit worrying about my brother. He’s fine.”
“I’m worried about you too.”
