The Hacker (Chicago Bratva #5) Read Online Renee Rose

Categories Genre: Crime, Mafia, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Chicago Bratva Series by Renee Rose
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Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64993 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
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“We are. We were. Not with you around, though.”

I wince. Finishing with the IV, I take his temperature and write it down, as Dr. Taylor requested.

“You know what I think?” Nikolai’s accent is thick. He sounds a little drunk from pain.

“What?”

“Dima is madder about you bringing a date to the game than about me getting shot.”

For a moment, my heart stops. Then it trips up to a gallop. “I-I’m sure that’s not true,” I say, trying to sound casual while I’m reeling.

Another confirmation that I was right. Dima’s into me. Judging by what Nikolai’s saying, he’s way into me.

So... WTF? Why has this guy never acted on it? Why won’t he ask me out? Why won’t he make a move?

I attach a pressure cuff to Nikolai’s arm and check his blood pressure, writing it down on the sheet of paper as well. “I’m sorry you got shot,” I murmur as I work. “I would do anything for a redo on last night. I’m just so sorry.”

“I forgive you,” he says magnanimously. “It’s Dima you need to work on.”

I look toward the open door, but I don’t know where he’s gone. Now that Nikolai’s let me in on his secret—that he is interested in me… that knowledge fuels me, gives me the courage to find him and try to explain myself.

He deserves the truth.

Dima

I stand in Ravil’s office, surveying computer equipment that I set up here, trying to figure out if I have what I need to start a full-scale investigation into Alex.

“Dima?”

Blyad’. I can’t get away from her.

I turn to find Natasha standing in the doorway. She’s still in that fucking dress. The one that shows every single curve of her lithe body. It makes her look like a grown-up, someone I could do all the dirty things I frequently imagine doing to her.

“Get out.” I seriously cannot deal with her. I’m not ready. I need more information. I need to get behind a fucking computer!

She doesn’t listen, though. She comes in, drifting ever closer, close enough for me to catch her ginger-peach scent. The one that seems to match the red glints in her coppery hair.

“I’m sick over what I did. What a mess I made of things. I... um… I’ve been trying to figure out why I wasn’t upfront about bringing Alex to the game.”

I grind my molars and finally lift my icy gaze to hers. I even go so far as to take a few menacing steps in her direction.

She registers the threat, backing up toward the wall. I want to kick my own ass for scaring her, but pushing her away—keeping myself shut off from her allure—is imperative. I can’t let myself soften toward her. She’s already the hugest liability possible.

“Honestly?” Her fingers tangle together at her waist; she’s doing that fidgety thing she does when she’s nervous. “I think I was trying to get a rise out of you.”

My brain scrambles in disbelief.

Natasha is not the manipulative type. At least, I didn’t think so. She’s sweet and honest and giving.

“I hoped you’d be jealous and finally make a move.”

I’m suffocating suddenly by the friction of her words ricocheting inside my body. She hoped I’d...be jealous. And make a fucking move.

I close the distance between us, my hand grasping her throat as I push her up against the wall. Her green eyes widen, but I don’t have time to watch them dilate because my mouth crashes down on hers, taking everything I’ve wanted all these torturous months. It’s a brutal kiss. Punishment for all the agony she’s put me through. For what she’s still doing to me.

I lick between her lips to lash her with my tongue. I let my teeth scrape her lips, I suck her tongue into my mouth. She gives it back with passion. So much more eagerness than I expect or deserve.

Well, hell. My cock swells against my zipper. My kiss grows more feral.

She reaches for my dick, giving the hardened outline against my jeans a squeeze. I catch her wrist and spin her to face the wall, punishing her with a sharp smack to her ass.

She holds still like she’s waiting for more.

I hesitate. This is where I should pull back. Shove her out of the room and slam the door. But there was a certain satisfaction that came with slapping her ass. A release of the pent-up lust, frustration, and anger that had me ready to explode.

She certainly deserves a spanking after what she did.

I deserve this release.

I flatten both her palms against the wall and pin them with my left hand as I get busy slapping her ass with my right.

She gasps, squeezing her butt, but doesn’t break position. She likes it.

Godammit.

I rub the bulge of my cock against one of her buttcheeks as I squeeze and knead the other one roughly.



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