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“What the hell was that?” Stas demanded. “We’re not having sex under the Christmas tree.”

“I wasn’t being serious. I’m not opposed to voyeurism, but I draw the line at your daughter and my brother walking in on you grinding on my dick.”

“Then why did you say those things to that woman?”

“Because she’s a nosy bitch and a nasty homophobe.” I hefted the saw onto my shoulder. “People like her get under my skin.”

“She wasn’t⁠—”

“She was,” I fired back. “Did you miss the part where she was smiling at the couple before us but looked at us like we were about to start an orgy on her family farm? Hmm, now I’m thinking it’s been too damn long since I’ve been in an orgy.”

He sighed, rubbing a gloved hand over his face. “Next time, don’t drag me into your mad schemes.”

“Or next time, don’t smolder so much. It’s fucking hot, and next thing you know, you’re giving me ideas, babe. The good kind that would have Betty Bitch over there clutching her pearls.”

“Knock it off.” He stopped walking and shot me a glare. “And why’d you assume you’d top anyway?”

“Because I don’t bottom, babe.” I took a few steps closer, boots crunching in the snow until there was barely a breath between us. “And you?” My voice dropped to a growl, eyes locked on his. “You’ve spent your whole goddamn life being the one in charge, haven’t you? So controlled. So fucking untouchable. Always so damn poised and perfect.” I leaned in until my lips nearly brushed his ear. “With the right man, I bet you’d enjoy letting go and having someone else take control. I bet you’d be fucking magnificent at surrendering that iron control and spreading your legs open while a man drives into you so deep you forget your own goddamn name. Something tells me that you’d be hooked on that dick once you get a taste of it, Stanislav.”

Stas’s jaw tightened, breath clouding the air between us. His eyes held a challenge, but they also showed a flicker of something else—curiosity, perhaps even longing—smothered quickly by indignation. “I’d never⁠—”

“But you will, babe. I’ve already got you thinking about it. Of course I’m too big for your virgin ass. Make your mind up quick so I can get started on loosening you up with my tongue and fingers.”

“Jesus, Yuriy, do you have to be so vulgar?”

I shrugged. “You call it vulgar, and I call it being upfront with you about what I want. You, Stanislav Zhukovsky, under me, legs spread wide and my dick inside you while you have your hand wrapped around my fucking throat.”

Stas went stock-still, like the words punched the air right out of him. His jaw dropped. He snapped it shut, cheeks flushing bright red across those sharp cheekbones. He swallowed once. Hard. His Adam’s apple bobbed from the force of it.

When he finally looked back up, his pupils were blown, scandal widening them while something hotter swirled underneath. He shook his head as if trying to clear it, yet he shifted his stance, settling weight in his hips, like he needed to ground himself.

“Yuriy…” he said, voice low and frayed.

“Let’s find Yelena her tree. Later, Stas, we can talk some more about my obsession with your ass.”

Stas steered us down a side trail that sloped into a sea of pines. He didn’t even hesitate, just kept walking, boots crunching rhythmically, every stride deliberate. He refused to look at me, but I let him be. He had a lot to think about and an important decision to make.

By the time we reached the far edge of the property, the noise of the main lot had vanished. It was just the two of us, surrounded by snow and trees that stretched for miles.

I glanced back the way we came. “You realize most people pick from the front, right? The part where they don’t risk frostbite or getting lost in a Christmas-themed forest?”

“Too many people up front.” He scanned the rows, eyes sharp. “This is better.”

I huffed, blowing on my hands. “Have you lured me back here to murder me?”

“Can’t say I haven’t thought about it.”

A laugh startled out of me. “You can try, but I won’t make it easy for you. Frankly speaking, it’d be more fun if we just fuck.”

“Can you think about anything else but your dick for five minutes?” Stas scowled as he walked away through a row of trees.

“Fine.” I trudged after him. “But for the record, this is my first time cutting down a tree, so don’t expect me to be good at it.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

“Why? Because I’m too pretty for manual labor?”

“You’re the only man in the Mafia who thinks being called pretty is a compliment.”