Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
“I should take you home.”
“You could,” she answers hesitantly. “Or you could take me back to your place.”
“Christ.” I lean back against my own seat, trying to gather my thoughts. “You’re killing me here.”
“This doesn’t have to be a hard decision,” she says softly. “You’re hot, and I like you. And I think you like me, right? So, forget about all the rest. Let’s just focus on tonight.”
I open my eyes and glance over at her. My dick is uncomfortably hard. I know if I were to slide my fingers between her thighs, she would be wet for me. It isn’t smart or logical, but perhaps, she is right. For tonight only, I can indulge this fixation I have with her, and tomorrow, I will say goodbye to her for good.
“Fuck it.” I start the ignition and shift the car into gear.
“Is that a Russian yes?” She laughs softly.
I glance over at her with a smirk. “That’s a Russian yes.”
Despite the levity in my voice, tension returns to my body as I navigate the familiar streets back to my rental in the unsuspecting neighborhood of Chestnut Hill. I’ve never brought a woman back to my place before. But I’m not about to suggest a hotel, and Kat’s apartment is out of the question with her roommate there.
She is quiet as she watches the scenery outside the windows change from her familiar stomping grounds to mine. I don’t know what she’s thinking, but I can only imagine this will inevitably invite more questions. Questions I can’t answer.
“You never told me what you did for a living.”
My jaw flexes, and I think I hate this question more than anything. “I do odd jobs.”
“Like what?” she presses.
I glance at her as the car comes to a stop in my driveway. “I can’t tell you the things I do, Kat. That’s the deal, and it’s something I can’t negotiate on. If you want to back out now, it’s not too late for me to take you home.”
She frowns as her gaze moves to the one-bedroom stone cottage beneath the tree canopy that this area is known for. It doesn’t look threatening, and it’s not. Nobody but my uncle knows I live here, and I’ve been content to keep it that way, until her.
“I guess I just have one question then.” She folds her hands into her lap, obscuring the scars as she often does without thinking about it. “Can I trust you?”
It would be a lie to give her an unequivocal yes, but I suspect she already knows that. Intentions are only as good as the moments they are spoken in, and those moments are often fleeting. I have a feeling Katerina understands that better than most.
“You are safe with me tonight,” I tell her. “What happens now is up to you.”
Her shoulders relax, and she lets out a shaky laugh. “Then I want to go inside. Show me your world, Lev.”
I shudder at her choice of words, relieved she could never understand the full weight of her request. The only part of my world she can ever see is this small space where I sleep at night. This is all that can ever be ours, and it’s a limited-time offer.
After shutting off the car, I walk around to open her door and help her out. The gravel crunches beneath our shoes as we walk to the front door, and I can feel her sudden nerves as I turn the key in the lock. When the door opens, I gesture inside for her to enter first. It needs to be her decision. She was brave back in the car, but I don’t know that she will remain that way.
Once the lights are on and she can see the space for herself, it doesn’t take her long to relax. I take her coat, and she tests out the sofa while I drop my keys and wallet in the kitchen.
“Would you like anything to drink?” I offer.
“No thanks,” she says. “Did you choose this furniture yourself?”
I meet her gaze with a smirk. “Does it look like I did?”
She eyeballs the neutral tones and pieces that seem to fit together naturally. “Not really. Doesn’t seem like your style.”
“It came with the rental,” I tell her. “I wanted something that was move-in ready. It’s just more convenient.”
I leave out the part that I intentionally chose a place I could leave behind in a hurry if it ever came to it. Clothes, furniture, cars… these things are all disposable in my line of work. They have to be. The only thing of value I’ve ever kept is the metalwork my father and I used to work on together in his shop. And when it comes down to it, that’s the only thing in this house I’d ever need to take with me.