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“If you wanted to make other men envious, you’d be walking around with someone else. Not some girl you found at a dive bar off the Hudson.” My phone dings and I grab it from my purse to make sure Kevin saw my message. I won’t fight Luka on working tonight. I’m tired anyway, but I am taking my normal shifts.
When I look up again, it’s to find angry eyes burrowing into me.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. Do men take their cars this seriously normally, or is this another red flag that I’m going to choose to ignore in the name of great sex?
“Never speak of yourself like that again. Do you understand me, Pchelka?” He backs me up against the wall and wraps his hand around my throat, pinning me against the wall. “I will not dangle you from my arm like some ornament. You are better than that, Pchelka. You are not something for other men to drool over—because when I see a man looking at you, like that James boy did, I want to rip open their chest and yank out their beating heart.”
He pushes his body flush against mine. Inhaling deeply, he runs his nose along my cheekbone. He squeezes my throat, not enough to cut off my air—the darkness emanating from his eyes is doing a fine job of that—but enough to bring my attention to how much power he holds in the moment. One tight clench of his fist and he could easily break my windpipe.
“Tell me you understand, Pchelka,” he growls while biting down on my earlobe. Everything inside of me trembles with excitement. This man is dangerous, he’s admitted as much, and yet I have no fear while he chokes and bites me.
“I understand, Luka,” I say, pressing my hand flat against his chest.
“I’m going to have to spend a lot of time tonight teaching you how wrong you were to say such things.” He kisses my cheek, my chin, my lips, and then he crushes my mouth with his, reminding me how powerful he can be.
The elevator stops and there’s a series of beeps. He breaks the kiss and slowly releases his grip on my throat. Couldn’t the penthouse have been another two-minute ride?
And just to ruin the moment completely, my stomach takes this opportunity to rumble. He raises an eyebrow and grins.
“When did you last eat?” He turns to punch a series of numbers into a keypad.
“This morning, I think.” I remember grabbing a piece of cold pizza on my way out the door, so I had to have eaten it. But his kiss has made me a little foggy on details at the moment.
The elevator doors slide open, and he puts his arm out to block them from closing until I’ve stepped out. We’re inside his penthouse. The elevator opens inside of his penthouse!
“You live here?” My entire apartment could fit in the foyer. There would be room to spare, too.
My cheeks burn. He must think I’m a complete loser. The flames only burn hotter as I walk into the living room. No love seat for him. There’s a full living room set in here with a flat screen that could probably double as a movie screen it’s so large.
“I have to take this.” He walks away carrying his phone that’s buzzing. Since he talks in Russian all the time, I don’t see why he has to leave the room, but at this moment I don’t mind. I can live in my embarrassment alone.
I should have suspected when I saw the cars. I should’ve definitely understood what I was getting into when he had to punch in a code for the penthouse. He lives in a penthouse! Why did I think I was on the same level as this guy? We aren’t even living in the same universe.
Luka
The living roomis empty when I get back, and the lights haven’t been turned on in any of the other rooms.
“Son of a bitch, come on.” Avery’s muttering flitters in from the foyer. I follow her grumbling to find her at the elevator, punching numbers into the keypad. When her next attempt fails, she smashes the heel of her hand on the pad.
“If you get it wrong once more, an alarm will go off. You’ll want to hit the floor then because the pad is rigged to blow up,” I tell her as I casually walk over to the pad and close the compartment lid.
Wide eyed and panicked, she looks up at me. She’s so easy to tease. I love it.
“Are you serious?”
“Oh yes.” I nod. “I would definitely blow up the entire building because someone is desperately trying to escape my home.”
She frowns. “You’re lying.”
“Not lying. Teasing.” I brush a lock of hair from her face. “What are you doing?”
“I was thinking this might not be the best idea. Me staying here.” She glances behind her, and there’s a slight turn down of her mouth.
“You don’t like it here?” I didn’t bother with décor, but the designers I’ve paid have done a good job.
“It’s beautiful.” Her tone contradicts her words though, and her shoulder slump.
“You don’t like it because it’s beautiful?” I gently take her bag from her hand while she’s distracted with trying to explain herself.
