We were in a hotel in New York, and the day was finally over. Roman owned a mansion, but apparently, they didn’t live together. Alessia and Rodion disappeared into their own hotel somewhere in the city. The Konstantinovs gathered for meetings and scattered again like a storm system breaking apart.
“Alessia is lovely. Are we seeing them tomorrow?” I asked. “We were talking about Grandma’s birthday, and I forgot to get her number.”
“No,” Dmitri’s hands settled on my hips from behind.
“Why not? I need to plan something—”
“We’re meeting someone,” he said.
His hands moved down my thighs. I steadied myself with one hand on his shoulder and wriggled out of my panties, stepping free of them. “Who are we meeting instead?”
He straightened and moved in front of me. I looked up at his face, then followed his gaze downward. He was staring at my chest. I was completely naked.
I snatched the dress off the floor and pressed it against myself. How the fuck did I just undress in front of this man? He even helped me, and I didn’t notice because I’d been too busy talking. Now he stood there with that smug look on his face, as if he’d watched the entire disaster unfold in real time and enjoyed every second.
“I’ll go take a shower.” I turned quickly and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me before leaning against it.
What the hell just happened? When did I become this comfortable around him?
The doorknob twisted, and I jumped away from it. The dooropened, and Dmitri walked in.
“You want to shower too?” The words came out too fast.
“Don’t you think you should undress me first?”
“What?”
He stepped closer and took my hands, placing them against his chest. “We’ve done enough together to stop pretending this is complicated.”
“I’m not pretending anything,” I said. “Nobody is pretending.”
“Hm.” He dropped his hands and left mine where they were.
He kept his hands to himself while I worked through the buttons of his shirt, which was surprising in itself. I pushed the fabric off his shoulders, and my eyes caught on the scar near his shoulder, the same wound I cleaned in that penthouse bathroom what felt like a lifetime ago.
When I looked up, he was already watching me. Waiting.
I moved to his belt and unbuckled it before reaching for the zip of his trousers. I kept my eyes on his while I pulled it down. There was something heavy and deep in his expression tonight.
“What?” I asked, my hands pausing against his waistband.
“The trousers.”
I gripped the fabric and pushed it down to his thighs. “Rodion,” I said, deciding conversation was safer territory for at least one of us, “he looks like he’s carrying something. Between you and Roman, did one of you do something to him?”
“Why? Are you concerned about my other brother now?”
“Do you ever answer a question the way it’s asked?” I shot back.
“I hurt him,” he declared.
I released the waistband, and his trousers dropped the rest of the way on their own. He stood there in nothing but his underwear, which hid absolutely nothing important. I lifted my eyes before he caught me staring too long.
“You know,” I said, and the smile spreading across my faceturned wicked because an idea had just formed. My fingers drifted over his stomach and slid lower, taking my time. “I just want to know you better. Not only your body.” My hand slipped beneath the waistband and brushed against his cock lightly, deliberately enough to feel his reaction. “Is knowing you such a terrible thing?”
He stayed perfectly still. That alone told me he was allowing this. “What do you want to know?” His voice dropped lower and rougher.
“How did you hurt him?” A breath left him when I wrapped my fingers around him and stroked once. His hand lifted toward my hip, but I caught his wrist with my free hand and pushed it away. “Don’t touch me.”
