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Briefly, I wonder what any one of them would be like as lovers. Would they compliment each other like knives from the same set, or are they as different as they come? I bite my bottom lip and sneak a peek at Ezra, wondering once again what his body would feel like against mine. It feels wrong to crave another man’s touch when I’m engaged to Andrei, but I’ve always wondered . . . and now that I’ve spent my fair share of evenings rubbing one out in the library, the den, on the back porch, I’ve imagined quite the number of naughty scenarios where any one of them walked in on me masturbating.
After the other night when Mikhail found me knuckle-deep in the library, I have an idea what he might do. But the others are still a mystery.
None of them have asked me about that night. Mikhail must have kept the picture he took of me a secret and saved it in his spank bank for private use.
Ezra’s eyes narrow in the mirror’s reflection as he watches me. “What is it? You are smiling.”
Shit.
“Nothing!” I scrub the bar of soap up my arms and redouble my efforts at being clean.
Clean thoughts. Clean body. Nothing can break my concentration.
Ezra’s jaw tics in frustration. “You are bad liar, Valentina Baranova.”
I scoff aloud and toss a return glare in his direction. “Because everyone’s so virtuous around here. Please. It’s nothing, Ezra.” The soap bar slips from my strangle-hold and pops against Ezra’s hard chest before thudding into the porcelain sink.
“It is something.” He pulls his black T-shirt over his head and tosses it to the floor. A wave of day-old cologne washes over me, and I choke on how good it smells.
“You have been spending time with other men.” With a flick of his wrist, Ezra turns on the shower and kicks off his boots. “You have been thinking of other men.”
It’s one thing for Andrei to get under my skin. That’s his MO. But Ezra’s energy is oddly charged for a man so quiet, and I find myself wanting to fight.
My heart races. Did Mikhail show Ezra and Andrei the photo after all?
I try to keep my voice steady. “I haven’t been thinking of anyone I’m not supposed to. Andrei’s my fiancé, and Mikhail is...”
Well, I’m not sure what to call him.
“A friend,” I decide quickly. “There’s been no one else, so you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I can’t believe I’m admitting to any of this in the first place, but I won’t stand for false accusations.
Ezra’s jaw clenches and his dark eyes smolder. “Get in the shower.”
A thrill runs down my spine at the deep rumble in his voice, but I take a step back to get some distance and bump against the door. “I . . . really shouldn’t.”
If Andrei finds me naked in another man’s shower, he might really choke me to death.
“You are dirty.” Ezra points to his neck as his eyes travel down my body. One by one, he points to various locations on his body to indicate spots on mine, and one glance in the mirror proves him right. In my efforts to scrub my arms and avoid Ezra’s heavy aura, I forgot about the rest of my body.
Apparently, I was standing in the splash zone while we cleaned up the morgue.
“Ew ew ew.” Shucking my clothes, which are also stained red, I shove past Ezra to claim the shower for myself.
I can handle Andrei’s anger when it comes. What I can’t handle is being covered in gore.
Once safely tucked inside the shower, I pull the door shut and quickly drop my panties and bra so that all of me gets clean.
The door opens behind me and, ohmyAdonis, he’s naked.
With a cry, I hold one hand over my hoo-ha and try to cover my girls with my remaining limbs. “What are you doing? Wait your turn!”
He lifts an eyebrow. “It is my shower.” He steps inside and the frosted glass door whooshes shut behind him.
If there were any chance of escape, it vanishes the instant the six-foot-four wall of muscle enters the shower. It was cramped to begin with, but now we’re bumping elbows and knees as we struggle to avoid the press of cold tile on our butts.
Ezra reaches up and tilts the stream of water so that it falls directly on my back, and I hiss as scorching hot water scalds my skin. “What are you?—”
