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I walk past her, and she follows me through the front doors and into the parking lot. My phone buzzes. I pull it out. The screen glows in the darkness, Akim’s name flashing with a new message.
Have fun at your slumber party, he texts. Followed by a string of increasingly sexual emojis.
Then I hear the familiar rumble of my motorcycle and look up as he tears out of the parking lot for the main road.
78
PIPER
I want to give you everything.
Timofey’s voice echoes through my head as I stare out over the city below. The view of the skyline from his penthouse is as close to having “everything” as I’ve ever been.
Cars weave through the snarled tangle of city streets. In glimpses between the buildings across from us, I can see moonlight sparkling off the surface of the river. It’s late, but the city is so alive.
And yet, even with all that to be seen, the better view is from the outside looking in.
High ceilings, arched doorways, warm wood floors, and plush white carpets—Timofey’s penthouse is a full-blown palace. I never want to leave.
I want to give you everything.
“Water?” Timofey appears next to me, two tall glasses of water in his hand.
I smile up at him as I grab the glass, our fingers brushing. “Thanks.” I take a long drink, trying to swallow some of my desperation along with it. “This view is incredible.”
“It’s not quite a mountaintop, but it’s as close as we can get in the city.” He looks at me from the corner of his eyes. “I thought you’d enjoy it.”
I’m fully clothed, but the tattoo on my hip tingles as if he’s running his fingers over the delicate lines.
I want to give you everything.
He said that. I heard it with my own two ears. While I can usually be accused of harboring more than my fair share of inconvenient, unrealistic hopes, I’m not actually delusional. Yet.
Timofey looked me in the eyes and told me that he wants to give me everything.
I think through the different interpretations of those words. He wants to give me everything professionally? Emotionally? Sexually?
Yes to all three. Sign me up.
No matter how I slice it, it seems like a good thing.
Which is a very, very bad thing.
I need to get away from Timofey Viktorov. That should be my goal. To put distance between us, to sever this connection and escape.
And yet…
I turn to him, a smile on my face. “You thought I’d like the view, but you were going to send me with Akim?”
“I never said I was going to show it to you. Just that I thought you’d like it.”
I snort. “So you were going to hold out on me? Not nice.”
“I’ve warned you about that already,” he says, voice low. “I’m not nice.”
I take another drink of water, draining my glass. Timofey plucks the empty cup from my hand, and I curl my arms around myself to fight off the shiver that wants to race through me.
Every step of the way, Timofey has told me who he is. He’s been honest about it from the start. So I’m not sure why I’m standing here instead of back in my room at his mansion.
