Milf Hunter: Seducing And Taming Beauties - Chapter 736

Chapter 736: The Bra on the Bed
Yelena’s chuckle was low and teasing, her dark eyes gleaming with amusement as she shot me a smirk. I couldn’t help but smile back, shaking my head at her antics. But the moment was short-lived. Her laptop pinged with an incoming message, and her expression shifted instantly—sharp, focused, deadly. She leaned in, her fingers flying over the keys as she pulled up the encrypted file from GhostByte.

“This is it,” she said, her voice dropping into something colder, something lethal. “The location where they’re holed up.”

She turned the screen slightly so I could see—a sprawling estate on the outskirts of the city, surrounded by high walls and heavily armed guards. “Looks like some mansion,” she muttered, her lips curling into a smirk. “Fitting. The Italians always did love their dramatics.”

She closed the laptop with a snap, her movements swift and decisive. “I’ll go get our car ready,” she said, standing up and stretching her arms. “We’ll leave first thing in the morning and deal with them once and for all.”

She moved to the table where the weapons Natalya had provided were laid out—guns, ammunition, and, most notably, a compact rocket launcher. Yelena picked it up, her fingers checking the mechanism with practiced ease before she started refilling the magazines with bullets.

She glanced at me, her smirk returning. “What are you looking at?” she said, her voice teasing but her eyes sharp. “Help me put them in the car.”

I nodded, moving to assist her. We worked in silence, the weight of the weapons a stark reminder of what was coming. The guns clinked as we loaded them into the trunk, the rocket launcher tucked carefully beside them. The air between us was thick with anticipation, the kind that comes before a storm.

Once we were done, Yelena leaned against the car, her arms crossed, her gaze distant. “We’ll hit them hard,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “No mercy. No second chances.”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. We both knew what was at stake.

Yelena exhaled, rubbing her temples with a weariness that seemed to seep into her bones. She pushed off the car and headed back inside without another word, her movements heavy with exhaustion.

She didn’t even make it to her room—just collapsed onto the couch with a sigh, her body finally surrendering to the weight of the last few hours. Her legs were pressed together, her arms resting loosely at her sides, her face turned toward me as her eyes closed. She looked almost vulnerable like this—guarded, but soft. Beautiful in a way that made my chest tighten.

I sat in the chair across from her, my gaze tracing the lines of her face, the way her dark lashes rested against her cheeks, the faintest hint of a frown still lingering on her lips. There was an urge, sudden and unexpected, to lean in and kiss her—just once, just to see how she’d react. But before I could even move, Yelena’s voice cut through the silence, her eyes still closed.

“You’re not planning on pouncing on me right now, are you?” she murmured, her voice dry but edged with something softer. “Go to your Claire.”

I shook my head, a faint smile tugging at my lips. I stood, turning toward the hallway that led to Yelena’s room. But as I pushed the door open, I froze.

Her panties and bra were discarded on the bed—simple, black silk, nothing fancy, but the sight of them there, so intimate and unexpected, made my pulse jump. It was a side of her I hadn’t seen before, a glimpse into a life she kept hidden. I didn’t linger. Instead, I grabbed the blanket from the bed and turned back toward the living area, leaving her things exactly as they were.

Yelena was still on the couch, her breath slow and even, but as I draped the blanket over her, she stirred slightly. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath, her tone shaky in a way that made my chest ache.

I didn’t answer. I just stood there for a moment, watching her, the weight of her words settling over me.

Because I realized something then—something that made my throat tighten.

These women—Claire and Yelena—they weren’t just strong. They were lonely. They’d been fighting for so long, been betrayed and abandoned, that something as simple as kindness, as care, was enough to shake them. Enough to make them feel.

I sat down in the chair, closing my eyes, my mind still racing with the weight of everything. The silence of the warehouse wrapped around me, thick and heavy, and I decided to just rest—just for a little while.

I didn’t know how long had passed when the faint sound of movement from Claire’s room cut through the quiet. The noise was slight—a rustle of sheets, the creak of a floorboard—but it was enough to stir Yelena from her sleep.

She shifted on the couch, her eyes blinking open as she glanced at the clock on the wall. Then, with a slow stretch, she sat up, her dark eyes locking onto me with a smirk that was equal parts teasing and knowing.

Yelena’s voice was still thick with sleep, but her smirk was sharp as ever. “You didn’t go to your wife,” she teased, stretching her arms above her head with a yawn that made her chest rise, the fabric of her tank top straining just enough to draw the eye.

“But you stayed with me.” She tilted her head, her dark eyes gleaming with amusement. “Tell me, Bratik, are you attracted to your sister’s charm?”

I didn’t rise to the bait, just watched as she stood and sauntered toward her room, her hips swaying with that effortless confidence of hers. “Maybe I just didn’t trust you not to burn the place down while I was asleep,” I called after her, my voice dry.

She laughed, disappearing into her room with a wink. “Keep telling yourself that.”

The sound of the shower starting up filled the silence, and a moment later, Claire stepped out of her room. She looked fresh—like she’d just showered—her hair damp, her skin flushed.

She was wrapped in a towel, the fabric clinging just enough to show off the curve of her cleavage, the swell of her hips. Her face was pink, her eyes darting everywhere but at me, the memory of last night clearly still burning in her mind.

“Where’s Yelena?” she asked, her voice carefully neutral, though her fingers twitched at her sides.

“She just went in to take a shower,” I said, my voice even.

Claire nodded, her blush deepening as she walked over to the laptop Yelena had left open. She scanned the information from GhostByte, her expression tightening as she took in the details—the location, the names, the timeline. “So it’s really them,” she murmured, more to herself than to me.

I didn’t answer. Instead, I turned and made my way to Claire’s room, pushing the door open. The bathroom door was ajar, and I caught sight of her bra and panties hanging on the hook inside—simple, practical, but undeniably hers.