Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
The tip of her tongue brushed mine, and I growled low in my throat and kissed her harder, putting my hands on her ass and tugging her tighter against me. Our tongues danced together, and we twisted around on the spot: it was impossible to keep still. I started running my hands down the graceful lines of her back, and she sighed and flexed like a cat, which rubbed her breasts against my chest. Yebat’, I’d imagined this for months: I’d already felt every part of her in my fantasies, but now it was real: the cherry and vanilla scent of her, the warmth of her body through her thin vest top… I still hadn’t relinquished control of her mouth, addicted to the soft sweetness of her, and every second I kissed her, I forgot a little more about everything else.
We started moving around the living room, spinning and stumbling like drunk ballroom dancers, neither of us willing to open our eyes. I had to feel her breasts, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop kissing her. I put my hands on her hips and flipped her around so her back was to my chest, her head tilted back so that my lips could stay on hers. I ran my hands up her body, moaning as I finally touched her breasts. But it wasn’t enough, touching them through her clothes. I started pulling her vest top up over her bra, feeling my cock swell against her leather-clad ass. I’m going to fuck you so many ways, Alison. First, with her sitting on the side table, her legs around my waist. Then on the couch. No, wait, even better: bent over the back of the couch, with her ass in the air—
I had to see her. I wanted to watch as I bared her breasts. I broke the kiss for a second and drew my head back—
Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at me, her eyes wide and blue and…
Innocent.
I froze, panting.
What’s the matter? I’d known she wasn’t one of us, that she was a good person, an innocent in a world of killers. It was one of the things that first attracted me to her when she’d gotten so angry about me burning down the theater. I’d wanted to grab the angel’s ankle and pull her down into my world. Fuck all the goodness out of her, make her beg for my darkness, ruin her—
But that was when it was just about lust, before the feelings started. Now…
My stomach knotted. She deserved better than the Bratva, better than me. She deserved a good man, maybe even a cop, like her, and a nice, safe life with two children and a little house in the suburbs. Not a tattooed gangster whose hands were soaked in too much blood to ever be clean.
I’d wanted her so I could ruin her. Now I had to let her go, to make sure I didn’t.
A little voice told me that wasn’t the only reason. That there was something deeper I was afraid of, something right down at the center of my soul. I silenced it.
I let go of her and stepped back. “This was a mistake,” I told her.
She whirled around to face me, staring in disbelief. She searched my face for an explanation, but I stayed stony and silent. Inside, I was raging and screaming at myself. Blyat’, what have I done? Why couldn’t I have just held on a few more hours until she was out of the country? Now she knew I had feelings for her, if she hadn’t known before. Why did I have to go and kiss her?!
She turned her back, but not before I saw the blood rush to her face. She tugged her vest top back down to cover her bra, then pulled her hair back into a ponytail...only to realize she didn’t have the band to secure it. I spotted it on the floor behind her, picked it up, and gently put it in her hand. She snatched it silently and fixed her ponytail, pulling it savagely tight. Even from behind, I could see the hurt I’d caused, her whole body tense with humiliation as she took long, calming breaths. It made my chest ache. But it was better this way, better than a long, drawn-out explanation. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. That’s what I told myself.
I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my nose. We still had to finish the argument we’d been having. I still had to convince her to leave the country. “Alison,” I said gently. “You can’t stay here and fight these people.”
Alison finally turned around and...Chyort, were her eyes damp? The anger bloomed in my chest, filling me. I wanted to kill whoever made her cry...but it was me.
“Whoever they are,” I continued, “they’re organized crime, and that makes them too dangerous to take on. You have to trust me on this; this is my world.”