Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 103852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
But he was here. I can still feel his merciless thrusts and savage touch that oddly turned caring afterward. My nipples still ache from how he bit and fondled and twisted them. My ass still burns from how he spanked me while fucking me as if knowing how much it drives me mad.
But after he exhausted my body till I was spent, he left.
Again.
We didn’t even get to talk or anything like normal people after he announced he’d never be done with me.
He just used me and left.
However, is it considered using if I enjoyed every second of it? If I touched myself to thoughts of him while I was sleeping?
God. Maybe I’m broken beyond repair for liking it, for reveling in his rough handling and unapologetic fucking when I hate the man. I should be glad that he disappeared, not disappointed.
I went through the motions during today’s rehearsal, trying to distract my head from any thoughts about Adrian Volkov.
Philippe and Stephanie gave me an earful about how I left without notice last night. I apologized, but it’s not like I could tell them what actually happened, or that I possibly had the best sex of my life just to wake up to an empty apartment.
And no, I’m not still salty about that.
One thing changed, though—or one person. Ryan.
Starting this morning, he didn’t try to touch me outside of rehearsal. He hasn’t looked into my eyes too long either, as if he’s afraid of what I—or someone else—will do to him.
At least he learned his lesson and will keep the distance he was supposed to a long time ago.
“Lia.”
I turn around at Stephanie’s voice. She catches up to me so that we’re standing in front of my car, my keys dangling from my fingers.
She takes out a cigarette and lights it, inhaling, then exhaling a large cloud.
“What is it, Steph? Please don’t tell me it’s another night out.”
“No, but that was a dick move yesterday.” She puts her hand on her hip.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t feeling well.” And I really wasn’t until Adrian fucked me like a savage before he disappeared.
Is he going to make this a habit and keep leaving after taking care of his sexual needs like I’m some sort of slut?
Damn him.
Why the hell am I so hung up on that part, anyway? After all, I allowed for everything to happen just so he would leave.
He’s a killer, Lia. A fucking killer.
I wait for the disgust to invade me at that reminder. I wait to feel nausea at allowing a murderer to touch me so intimately.
Yet nothing comes.
Am I that broken?
“Whatever.” Stephanie stares me down as if she doesn’t believe me. “Anyway, I learned something I thought you’d be interested to know.”
“What?”
“That Russian mafia guy you were asking about yesterday. Matt’s associate?”
My grip tightens on my keys as I try to hold on to my cool. “What did you learn?”
Stephanie gets closer, searches her surroundings, then half-cups her mouth before she whispers, “Apparently, he’s a higher-up in the Bratva. Like very higher-up.”
I swallow. Even though this information shouldn’t be a surprise, it hits differently than I’d expect when I learn about it.
“How do you know?” I murmur back, dread getting the better of me.
“I heard Matt mention it to one of his minions.”
Stephanie is a true eavesdropper and loves gossip to a fault.
She steps back and takes another drag of her cigarette. “Now, girl, tell me why you’re interested in knowing about him?”
“I-I’m not.”
“Uh-huh. Lie to someone else. I can see that gleam in your eyes whenever he’s mentioned.”
Shit. Am I that obvious? “It’s really nothing. I just…find him scary.”
“That’s because he is.” She rubs my arm. “There’s a crowd we should never mingle with. He belongs to that crowd.”
Too late, Steph.
I offer her a reassuring smile and get to my car. By the time I arrive home, I’m hungry, exhausted, and my mind is fried from the number of theories I’ve been conjuring about Adrian.
He told me he’s a strategist, so according to what Stephanie said, he plots the Bratva’s movements.
God. He’s part of the freaking Russian mafia.
A shiver runs down my spine at the thought. I don’t know anything about the mafia except for The Godfather trilogy, and those films are a far cry from reality.
The real thing must be more dangerous.
Wiping my clammy fingers on my skirt, I tap in my code and get inside.
I throw my bag and keys on the entrance table, trying not to think about what happened on that same table last night. How he owned every inch of me and gave me a dark type of pleasure I’ll never be able to forget.
Shaking my head, I hang my coat and freeze.
Between my two other coats, there’s a different one. Gray. Male.
His.
I kick my shoes away and step inside, the sinking weight that’s been settled over my stomach since this morning lifting with each step I take. My feet come to a halt on the heated flooring at the scene in front of me.