Russian Roulette (Russkaya Mafiya) Read Online Free

think I asked you to sit by me?”
    I start snickering a little until I hear a throat clear. A shadow falls over my desk and I look up. I stare straight into Luka ‘Tate’ Masterson’s pissed-off hazel glare. God, he’s even hotter when he looks mad. His cheeks flush slightly and he screams alpha.
    “Well, good morning, sunshine!” I croon in the cheeriest voice I can, smiling brightly.
    Tate looks fantastic today in a pair of nice-fitting jeans leading past his muscular thighs to some black Polo boots. He has the top of his black button-up shirt unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up. Look at those tattoos. I didn’t see them the other night at dinner. Who would have guessed this rich boy could pull off tattoo sleeves. I can’t really make out what they are, but holy hotness, they make him look even sexier. He has that ‘I’m a bad boy, don’t fuck with me’ look, going today.
    Ugh, we all know I like them bad, too. With that thought, I cringe a little.
    “Enjoying yourself with Wentworth, I see,” he grumbles out. “Can I join you or is this a private party?” he huffs. Yep, definitely has the asshole gene. Geez, did he just growl at Cameron?
    “Of course, you are welcome to sit here. You’re also welcome to get some coffee or whatever you need before you come next time.”
    “Oh, baby, I don’t need coffee to come. Your sweet smile will do just fine,” he replies cockily and licks his lips.
    “Seriously, Tate? I’m just going to move.”
    I glare at him, disgusted. I know I must be tomato red right now. I don’t have time for this shit. Who does he think he is, talking to me like that?
    “I’m really sorry Krasaaveetsa (Beauty). Forget I just said that. Stay, I’ll behave, promise.”
    I roll my eyes and nod, irritated. Cameron scoots his chair over so Tate can sit in between us. I don’t know why he didn’t just sit on the other side of Cameron. I don’t plan on talking to him, especially after that loser line. I was so excited about that text earlier, too.
    Tate fist bumps Cameron, and then he puffs his yummy plump bottom lip out towards me. He tries to look sorry and innocent, but it just annoys me further. I just want to bite that lip. Holy shit, did I really just think that? No. No biting for me, focus. Think Biology, not man hunk with an accent. Is that Russian? I think that just raised his hotness factor even more. I am such a freaking goner.
    I turn away from him and do my best to pay attention to the professor. Tate keeps brushing his arm against me, causing little goosebumps to erupt on my skin. I know he’s doing it on purpose and I just want to kick him for it. I refuse to give in and look at him. This is going to be the longest class of my life.
    I keep going back to the accent. Fuck, that’s hot! Not only do I have to sit next to this absolutely gorgeous guy, but I have to smell him, too. He smells as good as he did last night at dinner. I think he’s wearing Hugo Boss cologne. It’s one of my favorites on a guy and it kind of makes me want to sit on his lap and sniff him everywhere. Maybe even lick his cheek at this point; I bet he tastes like a fine chocolate caramel candy. Asshole.
    I didn’t hear a word the professor said during that lecture. I stuff my things back into my bag quickly, pretending I’m in a super big hurry to get to my next class. After the longest two hours ever, I skirt out of class quickly and I give a quick “See ya,” to no one in general.
    I wave on my way out the door and practically run down the long hallway. I’m so glad my next class is pretty close by. I kind of expected Tate to follow me, but he didn’t.
    Neither Tate nor Cameron is in my next class so I can keep to myself like a hermit. I tuck back towards the rear of the room and pull my phone out. I may as well relax a little now that my body doesn’t feel like it’s vibrating any longer.
    I sign onto London’s Facebook page to troll around some. I don’t have one really, so I share