Page 14 of Sexting my Bratva Daddies

“Speak for yourself.” Misha bared his teeth. “Do you have any idea how much I want to go after her?” He gripped his hair in both hands and took a breath. “What the fuck is wrong with me? I don’t want to hurt her. I just…”

“You want to pin her to the wall and hear her pant in your ear as you drive into her.” Leo smirked from his spot beside the door. “Give her a chance to recover. As Viktor said, remember who we are dealing with. Peyton did things tonight she has only dreamed of performing. We did so many things.” He ran his tongue along his teeth and faced the bed. “What is normal to us is a fantasy to her, something she thought impossible.”

I let him talk because his words calmed Misha, which was the goal. “We are not done with her,” I reassured Misha when he continued to pace. “We are not letting her go for good. Only for now.” We did not chase women, but we also did not give up what was ours. And Peyton belonged to us now. She might not understand what that meant, but she would.

I poured a flute of champagne and drank it in one gulp. We hadn’t ordered anything stronger, and the champagne did nothing to soothe the raw edges stirring along my mind. “We can talk to her at work tomorrow.”

Leo started to shake his head but stopped when I gave him a look. He waited as though weighing his words. “What if we treat this like any other date? We can message her through the app. Tomorrow. After she’s had a chance to catch her breath. It might not be wise to approach her at work.”

I considered his words. “What is it you mentioned a few weeks ago when I caught you ogling her? You mentioned a power imbalance.”

Leo ate the last of the chocolate covered cherries one by one. “We are her bosses, as she stated tonight. If we approach her at work before we’ve had a conversation about tonight, she might worry that she’ll lose her job if she turns us down. There is a power imbalance here.”

“We own her.” I could not help, and did not try to stop, the growl in my voice. “Peyton is ours.”

“Peyton thinks we are honorable business moguls.” Leo pointed at me, a cherry between his thumb and forefinger. “She does not know we are Bratva, and if she did, she would not understand what that meant.”

Then we would teach her.

I trapped those words behind my teeth. Uttering them out loud would put Misha on the hunt, and we did not need my enforcer stalking the best executive assistant we’d ever hired.

“We are in agreement?” Leo raised his eyebrows. “We do not talk to Peyton about tonight until we’ve reached out on the app to gauge her emotions. It would be unprofessional and might make her quit if she’s decided she does not wish to continue with us.”

Misha’s jaw jutted out in a mutinous scowl. “I don’t like this plan.”

“But you will follow it.” I gave him a look. “As much as it pains me to admit, Leo is right. We cannot force Peyton to continue this situation. It needs to be her choice, made in a moment of clear-headedness and not one clouded by you pinning your arm across her throat.”

Misha licked his lips, his eyes going glassy. No doubt, he was imagining that very thing.

“Misha.” I cracked out his name, years together giving me insight into how to break him free of his fantasy. While I had been allowed to show some of my darker side tonight, he had not, and it ate at the edges of his fraying control.

His head snapped around. “I will do what is best.”

It was all I could ask for from all of us. We were not often denied anything, and Peyton had presented us with the most intriguing denial.

6

PEYTON

Twelve hours and one sleepless night later, I’d convinced myself it was all a fluke.

Yes, I’d slept with my bosses.

Yes, it was the best night of my life.

No, it would not continue.

There was no way they’d ever be interested in doing any of those things with me again. Which was a shame, because I’d loved it. And I had so many more things I wished we could do together.

It was a mistake. Telling myself that all the way to work barely kept me functional.

If I were lucky, they’d let me keep my job. I paused outside the building to gather the last of my courage, using the extra few minutes to tidy my hair.

Memories of Leo twisting it around his finger last night sent a pulse of heat through my belly.

He’d been so kind. And Misha.

Good Lord.