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“Boss,” Ludvik says upon greeting me.
“Ludvik, I have something I need you to do.”
“Sure. What is it?”
“Look into Amelia’s mother, who is also Emily’s aunt. I know her name is Lucy, but she goes by Lou, and try the surname, Wilson. I believe Amelia’s last name is the same as her mother’s.”
Ludvik nods immediately. “Certainly. Is there anything else you need me to do?”
“Not yet. I might have more for you after you get me some information.”
Ludvik gives me a curt nod, and I go find Emily as she’s in line for the bar. We both get another drink and mingle with the other guests, but after that, we’re ready to head back home. The two of us are staying in Ruslan and Amelia’s condo, and I have a key to the place already.
We get back to their condo and immediately head for the bedroom we’re staying in, but as soon as we pass through the doors, I’m in awe of the woman before me. She turns her back to me and moves her hair out of the way. “Would you mind unzipping me?”
“Of course not,” I tell her as I pull the delicate zipper down the length of her back. The satin-type material falls to a pile on the floor, then she kicks off her shoes.
“God, I’m beat. I don’t think I’ve been this tired in eons,” she confesses as she turns around in nothing but lingerie. My eyes follow the lacy material, and I’m damn certain this woman can’t look bad in anything.
She takes one step toward me and grabs ahold of my tie, steps up onto her tippy toes, and collides her lips with my own. The two of us work together to remove every article of clothing I have on, and once we do, we both get into bed. We’re both on our sides, kissing and touching one another, but Emily slows down, and after a while, she falls asleep next to me.
I can’t even be mad about it, and I don’t want to be. Emily’s proving to me that I’m much more than some playboy. I’m a man who actually gives a shit, and not too long ago, I didn’t think I’d ever be this type of man.
Chapter Eleven
Emily
The sun slipping through the blinds causes my heart to pump anxiously. I can’t believe I overslept, and I’m an early riser. Shit. I get out of bed, and as I do, I realize Lom isn’t anywhere around. So I make the bed and walk into the en-suite bathroom attached to the room. I go right up to the sink and turn on the hot water. Once it gets steamy, I grab a fresh washcloth and soak it in the hot liquid, then put it on my face. I do this every morning, and every single time it’s so refreshing.
Since I’m late, I quickly turn on the shower and strip out of my bra and thong. I was so tired last night that I ended up wearing these to bed. I get in the shower and lather up my body, then start on my hair. The suds of the shampoo feel so good against my hair. Within ten minutes, I’m out. I run a comb through my hair and then put on my clothes for the day. I don’t put anything too special on, especially since we’re leaving to fly back home tomorrow.
I finish sliding on my jeans and throw on my army green off-the-shoulder sweater. There’s a small blow dryer in here, so I take another five minutes to blow dry my hair, then put on some light makeup. Nothing too crazy, but just enough to give me a little bit of color. All I can think about as I’m applying my blush is that when I get back home, I need to speak to my parents—and to say I’m terrified would be a major understatement.
Even as I walk down the hallway, I can’t help but think that they’re going to lose their shit at me. I don’t want that to be my reality, but I know them. I know how much they truly don’t give a fuck about my side of the story. In their eyes, I’m the one who did the wrong. Everything they ever taught me tells me that, and I’m sure they’re going to condemn me for not only giving up mybaby girl but also for having premarital sex. It blows my mind that they even cared about such a thing, especially during the time I was raised. I know my brother has had a lot of sex. He was the manwhore of our small town, but I know they would never snap at him the way I know they’re going to with me.
It literally gives me the worst anxiety in the world. I grab onto my necklace as I continue looking for Lom or anyone really. Eventually, I find Lom in the kitchen. The fact is that no matter how much I try to ease my worries, I’m not going to. My parents aren’t going to react well in the least bit, and that’s obvious as hell to me. I shake my head because even though they’re going to be furious with me, I’m not the only one who took part in this whole ordeal. My aunt had a huge part to play, but I doubt they’ll even show me an ounce of the anger they have toward her, if they have any, in the first place. They might just blame me because I would’ve “known better”, as my mother always loves to say.
As much as I’m trying to anticipate what’s going to happen, there’s no point. All I’m doing is getting myself worked up in the process.
“Morning there,upryamaya mysh,” Lom states in a low tone.
I glance over at him, and he’s flipping eggs in a pan. He’s in a pair of plain black sweatpants and has a dark navy blue tank top on. His arms look delightful from this angle, and I’m caught staring at his perfect body. Lom isn’t overly beefy by any means, but he doesn’t have a thin swimmer’s physique, either. He’s like a perfect blend between the two of them. He’s slender yet muscular, but he isn’t too bony that I don’t want to cuddle with him at night.
“Good morning. Are you making us breakfast?” I cock a brow in surprise, and Lom chuckles lowly.
“I might be. Guess you’ll have to wait and see.” There’s so much playfulness in his voice that it causes me to smile. I lovethis side of him, the carefree Lom I’m starting to really fall for. As much as I’ve tried to hold my feelings back, I notice they’re starting to spark. Especially here lately. He’s just been proving himself to me more and more, and I’ve never had anyone like that. I can only hope that he doesn’t fuck it up somehow, but I’m doing my best not to get anxious or think that something bad will happen.
“Okay, well, while I wait, I’ll have to grill you with some questions, I guess.”
Lom turns to look at me and snickers. “Will you now?”
“Yep. What’s your favorite color?”
“Purple.”
“That’s not specific enough. What shade of purple?” As I ask, Lom flips the eggs over.
“Plum purple,” Lom immediately says, like he didn’t even have to think about it.
