“But I wanted to smell for daisies” #Dismissed @LsmithT



Title: Dismissed

Series: Smirnov Bratva #4

Author: TL Smith

Genre: Romantic Suspense

Release Date: September 21

Add to your TBR: http://bit.ly/2x4vIlw


A heart is something that should not be entrusted to me.

I will tear, crush, and destroy it with my very own hands.

Then back away with a smile on my face.

It’s who I am—a killer, a player, a joker.

But hers, I’m unsure about.

Do I want to rupture and rip it from her chest?

Or do I want to hold and capture it with my own?



Her scent invades me, it’s all I can smell when I wake up, and it’s fucking brilliant. Just as she was last night, even if it meant I had to shut up to taste her and to fuck her again. What a wild drug she fucking is.

“I can hear you thinking, stop it,” she grumbles into my arm as she sleeps. “Gosh, how are your thoughts so loud?” She moves to get away from me, but I pull her back then pin her beneath me. She doesn’t fight me, just smirks. “I need coffee,” she says.

“You need a breath mint,” I retort back, scrunching up my nose.

“Oh my God, you so did not say that. I’m meant to have sweet breath…” I blow into my hand to smell, “… no morning breath here. Gosh, you kill the buzz fast.” She wiggles underneath me, which in turn moves on my already hard cock. I could say it’s morning wood, but that would only be a half-truth.

“You want me to lie and tell you, you smell like fucking daisies?” I ask her, confused. She shakes her head. “I can see if you smell like daisies. There’s a particular area where I think you do.” I smirk while holding onto her hands, and then I drop lower as I drag my body down over on hers. She squirms, but she can’t do anything.

“Anton, Anton.”

My lips touch her, barely, and she squeezes her legs tight, locking my head between them. I have to remove my hands from hers to push myself free.

“Anton.” The voice is loud.

Looking back up, I see Samara’s expression and want to laugh.

“Mama, just wait,” I yell in Russian.

Samara pushes back and off me, scrambles off the bed and looks around for her clothes, which are downstairs.

“I have your lady’s clothes, Anton. Is she still in there?”

English, my mother chose to speak English. Fuck.

“Yes, leave them at the door.”

“Bring her down.” I hear her footsteps walking away, and when I turn, I see Samara with her hands covering her mouth and a freaked-out expression on her face.

She starts shaking her head rapidly. “I am not meeting your mother.”

“I have a better idea, let’s spend all day in bed while I fuck you until you can’t move.”

“Are you insane? Your mother is here.”

I shrug my shoulders. “She was here last night when I brought you home.”

Her hands drop to her sides, and she looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind. “This is your mother’s house?” I nod my head. “And you still live with your mother?” she asks, looking quite confused.

“Technically my father as well, but that piece of shit is always in Russia. My sister is here too, now that she’s no longer enrolled in boarding school.”

“Gosh, I don’t care… sneak me the fuck out of here now.” She pulls the sheet from the bed when she realizes she’s still naked and my eyes keep roaming.

“But I wanted to smell for daisies.”

“Anton, so help me God, I’ll bury you in the daisy bushes if you don’t get me out of here.”

I quirk an eyebrow at her—it’s her daisy bush I would love to be buried in.

“Not those ones, you perv, in the fucking ground.”

“I like it when you’re feisty with me,” I say, turning and opening the door to pick up her clothes, and that’s when I realize they are torn. Alyona walks out of her room, at that exact moment, with a few clothes in her hands and she walks them to me then smiles.

“Hi Sam,” she chimes, then walks off.

Closing the door, I hold both sets of clothes in my hand, the torn ones as well as Alyona’s.

“Why do you have two sets of clothes?” Samara walks up to me still holding the sheet in her hand in front of her as she reaches for hers, then realizes the same thing I did. She isn’t walking out in them. She looks up to me, her eyes have turned dark. They’re almost black as her anger builds, so I pass her the other set of clothing. She snatches them then walks away to my bathroom, slamming the door.

I guess that’s the end of my pussy patrol for the day.



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