Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
But when their gazes met and he saw the fear in her gray eyes—-
Blyad.
He remembered her telling him he could hurt her, and he wanted to laugh.
It was clear as hell now it was the other fucking way around.
He would never be able to hurt her.
How could he when she had him wrapped around her fucking finger?
“Fredericka.” Her name came out in a rasp, emotion making his accent thick.
The fear in her eyes faded, and the pale pink flush in her cheeks deepened in color. When he raised his brow at her, she mumbled, “You make my name sound so...exotic.” An awkward, embarrassed look entered her eyes. “I like it.” She made the words sound both like a puzzle and a confession, like it was something she didn’t understand but knew she had to feel guilty about.
Ah.
Sweet, beautiful little...idiot.
He crushed her to him, so hard that she squeaked in protest and he forced himself to loosen his hold. She might be older than him, but she obviously understood so little about how things worked between a man and a woman.
The way he wanted her—-
And the way she wanted him—-
It was so fucking clear that a fantasy wouldn’t ever be enough.
And he would make her see that, in time.
But for now, he needed a reason to stay in her life.
His lips curving in a devastating smile, he murmured indulgently, “I’ll say it as many times as you want, pchelka.”
Her eyes widened at his promise, and she croaked out nervously, “But didn’t you say—-”
Pulling her face down, he whispered against her lips, “Let’s be friends.”
Chapter Four
Fredericka
It was already half past seven in the evening when I stepped out of my office, and my phone started buzzing inside my blazer’s pocket right on time. Although most of the lights were already out, I still cast a furtive look around before answering the phone. “Hello?”
“Good evening, pchelka. Are you done with work?”
Sergei’s accented drawl reached my ears like a caress, and I bit back a sigh. “Yup. I’m on my way out.” We had been so-called friends for about a week now, and oh, how my life had changed since the Russian billionaire came into the picture.
It was crazy, the way he had turned my life upside down in so short a time but now, I couldn’t even remember what my life had been like without him. He called me several times every day, and we would talk about anything and everything under the sun. He was also the first one to call me in the morning, and every night after work, we would meet at my place, talking and talking while we ordered in pizza, Chinese take out, or whatever else took our fancy for the night.
With every day that would pass, I would think to myself, this was it. We’d finally run out of things to talk about, and boredom would set in. He was a gorgeous, sexy billionaire that every woman in the world wanted to date. I was a socially awkward, sexually inexperienced lawyer who also happened to be six darn years older than him.
He had to get bored with me sooner or later, right?
But it still hadn’t happened.
Not for one moment did he ever make me feel I was boring him or he was being condescending with me, and every day I just found myself becoming greedier, wanting to spend more time with him and know more about him. Sergei Grachyov was an infinitely interesting man, and more and more he was proving himself to be the opposite of a typical 23-year-old male. We actually had more in common than I expected. We both hated the nightclub scene, but we also couldn’t last a day without watching the news. We could have passed off as siblings really – if only that night didn’t happen.
The thought had my cheeks reddening, and I quickly pressed my hands to my face, an instinctive attempt to cover the proof of my embarrassment even though no one was around.
“Fredericka? Are you still there?”
Clearing my throat, I said, “Yes, sorry, I was, umm...” Just horny?
My cheeks reddened even more.
“Fredericka?”
“I’m just, umm, really hungry. I haven’t had dinner yet.” And that was true, I thought defensively, even if it wasn’t exactly why I was currently so scatterbrained.
“I thought you’d say that.” Sergei’s tone was faintly disapproving. “You shouldn’t prioritize work over your health, pchelka.”
“I know that. It’s just sometimes I forget.” Instead of taking the elevator, I opted for the fire exit, the three flights of stairs serving as my daily form of exercise.
The billionaire sighed. “You never learn, pchelka. I may have to teach you a little lesson to drive my point home.”
“Ha.” I wanted to sound dismissive, but it came out a mumble instead since I had zero experience handling such innuendos. More proof, I thought glumly, that Sergei was right. I might be older than him, but he was definitely more sophisticated.