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I want more of her.
My hands trail up her back. The smooth skin rises with goose bumps at the slightest touch of my fingertips. Even though she is in charge, I know I get under her skin just as much as she gets under mine.
She’s able to break the endless pattern my mind runs on.
The windows are fogged, and orange streetlight floods the car, giving Sloane a soft glow. Everything about her is angelic. I gather her hair and pull her head back, kissing her neck.
She moans my name and rides me to my limit. Her hips thrust in a steady rhythm, edging herself close to her breaking point. I grab onto her ass and hold her tight against my body when I feel her throbbing against me. She puts her hands on top of mine and her breathing quickens.
I spill inside her, throwing my head back against the back of the seat.“Ya nikogda ne smogu ustat ot tebya.” I can never get tired of you.
Her hair drops over her shoulders, and she presses her forehead against mine. Her skin is flushed and her breathing unsteady. “What is it about you?” she asks with a voice so careful it almost sounds worried.
My eyes search her for the meaning behind her words, but she doesn’t expand on the thought. I lift her chin with the tip of my finger and give her a pained smile. “I wish I knew,Kroshka,” I tell her in a soft voice.
CHAPTER26
SLOANE
Things with Mikhail keep progressing.
I’m in way over my head and I have no idea how I’m meant to save myself from the mess I’ve created. What Mikhail and I have is flawed, but it’s perfect in its own way. I watch it all pass by me with regret in the back of my mind because I know I hold the detonator to the bomb that’ll destroy him.
It’s a constant game of push and pull—that’s what makes this harder and easier at the same time. Everything contradicts everything at this point. It’s moments like last night that make me believe things could look up—but what are the odds of that happening?
Slim to none.
Mikhail left early this morning and hasn’t come back since. Once he feels something, he avoids me. It doesn’t feel great.
Many of the reservations I feel toward him wash away when I remember how he was with his family. I’ve never seen him look so happy; so overwhelmed with joy. I could see his eyes glimmer when he looked at Alyna.
He didn’t hold back; he allowed his emotions to consume him without regret. His dimples showed again ... That smile that could ruin me was shown over and over again. Every time I close my eyes I see him. He almost looked at peace.
If family is what makes him happy, why doesn’t he keep them close?
Speaking with Anya felt like a fever dream. She reiterated everything to me, but it still felt unreal to know I’m not alone in this plan.
While it might not be happening the way it was supposed to, I have to make it work. Everything Anya told me last night made sense, but it doesn’t make me like my situation any more.
A musical chime echoes through the entire house, and I open the door quickly.
A middle-aged man looks down at me with wide eyes. “Uh ... are you Sloane?”
I’m hesitant to tell him who I am because I have no idea what Mikhail’s up to. “Yes,” I say, choosing to answer anyway because curiosity always gets the better of me.
He hands me a bouquet of red roses and a box. “These are for you.”
I take the roses and hold them in my arm as he hands me the box. I look at the man. “Who are these from?” I ask.
“There’s a note attached. I’m just a delivery boy.”
I can’t help but laugh. He doesn’t look like a delivery boy. He’s in a suit and tie, just like the rest of Mikhail’s men.
I slam the door in his face and turn toward the kitchen. Putting the roses down on the granite counter, I take the ribbon off the matte-black box.
A card sits on top of a white satin dress.
324 Parkway, 8 p.m. Wear this and put your hair up. Dimitri will drive you.
