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I grit my teeth and walk toward the bedroom at the end of the hallway.
She grouses behind me as she follows. “This place isn’t any bit babyproofed. Daniela walks. Did you know that? Your daughter is mobile. You have to get rid of all of this glass and marble and metal crap.”
I slant her a glance over my shoulder. “Now you’re redecorating my place?”
She fires off a glare in my direction. “This place is decorated for your whores, not your daughter. If you want to salvage any of your stuff, I suggest you get it out of her reach.”
A scoff escapes her lips when she walks into the open doorway. “I should have known. You don’t even have regular pillows?”
“I don’t do much sleeping.”
She pushes past me without answering, and with one free hand, pulls the comforter off the bed and starts making up the black leather recliner set up in the corner of the room.
“At least this chair has arms so she won’t move around too much,” Larysa mutters, creating a perimeter of throw pillows to provide more of a barricade.
I lounge in the doorway, folding my arms over my chest while she works. Finally, she settles Daniela in the center of the makeshift bed and tucks the comforter around her like she’s a human burrito.
Jesus, a nuclear bomb could have gone off and the kid wouldn’t have stirred.
A grin tugs at one corner of my mouth.
Just like Mom used to say about me when I was little. It hasn’t really changed much since I’ve gotten older. I still sleep like a champ…whenI sleep.
And so does my daughter.
“What are you smiling at?” Larysa stomps over to me. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes sparking with disgust. “Me working to keep our daughter safe while you played with your dick over here, watching?”
“I was remembering the last time I had you bent over with your ass in the air.”
She recoils, like my recollection of fucking her ass is offensive to her ears. “Good that you have the memory since you’ll never have my ass anywhere near you again.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“You’re crazy if you think I want—”
I fist the neck of her t-shirt and pull her close. “I know exactly what you want. But I won’t take it. I want you to beg and scream and cry for it.”
“Well, don’t hold your breath since that’ll never happen.” She flashes a smirk and claws at my hand. “Or actually,dohold your breath. So you fucking die waiting.”
“Is that a challenge?” I move my hand from her shirt to her neck and give it a little squeeze. “A battle of the wills?”
She sputters with my hand constricting her throat. I relax my grip after a second or two, enjoying the deep purple shade that floods her face.
Matches her fake eyes and her bullshit promises.
“I am not into your freaky, twisted, kinky shit,” she hisses.
“More lies.” I loop my arm around her waist and flip her around so her back is to the wall. “Don’t you remember the hotel room? The shower? The balcony?” I lean my forehead closer so that it grazes hers. “The ladies lounge in the hotel lobby?”
“We didn’t—” She snaps her lips shut before finishing.
“Oh, we fucking did.” I slide my hands down the side of her torso, my head flooded with X-rated memories I buried a long damn time ago. She shivers when my fingers dip beneath the hem of her shirt, her shoulders quivering as I grasp her tits, massaging them as she chokes out a moan.
Hold my breath, my ass.
Her head falls backward, hitting the wall. Soft pants slip from her lips, her eyes already drooping and I’ve barely laid a finger on her.
Fuck me, I can’t pull away. I want to touch, I need to taste.
