Wrong Number. Right Don. (Sinful Mafia Daddies, #3)

by Natasha L. Black

He turns to me, a satisfied grin plastered on his face. “Well, malyshka, I hope I’ve proved that not all men are spineless idiots,” he jokes, recalling our earlier text exchange from last night. I force a smile, though I feel the tell-tale signs of sadness forming in the pit of my stomach. “You definitely proved what a strong spine you have.” I wink at him. His lips twitch, and for a second I think he’ll say something else. But instead, he steps closer, leaning down until his mouth brushes against mine. It’s soft, fleeting, barely even a kiss. It’s goodbye. Then he’s gone. The door clicks shut behind him, and just like that, the heat, the presence, the intensity of him all evaporate, like the air has been sucked out of the room. In its place I’m left alone only with my thoughts. I stare up at the ceiling, my heart still pounding even though the reason for it is gone. I don’t know how long I lie there, tangled in the sheets, Sergei’s scent still lingering on my skin. What the hell just happened? I don’t do this. I don’t bring strangers home. I don’t let myself get carried away by impulse. I don’t lose my head over a guy I met less than twenty-four hours ago. I didn’t even sleep with my last boyfriend until we’d been dating for a few months. And even if my date hadn’t stood me up last night, there was no way I was going to sleep with him on the first date. So what was it about Sergei that made me so desperate to throw all caution to the wind? I groan, throwing an arm over my...