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“What’s your agenda, Tore?” I ask.
“My agenda?”
“I’m not going to sleep with you, so you can stop with this seduction thing you have going on. Playing with me, walking around shirtless. It won’t work.”
“This is my home, I can do whatever I please.” He leans forward and bends his head. “And if it won’t work, does it matter whether I’m shirtless or not?”
His eyes remind me of a hawk’s, sharp and focused, with prey in their sights and preparing for the kill. He’s doing this on purpose.
“It doesn’t.” I shrug. “I’m absolutely indifferent where you’re concerned.”
One corner of his lip curls upward a little. I wouldn’t have even recognized it if I wasn’t so accustomed to seeing him with a face that’s constantly grim.
“I can’t wait to have you in my bed, Milene,” he whispers, and a shudder passes through my body.
“That will never happen. I don’t even like you.” I turn my back to him, place the bowl of strawberries on the counter, and pop one into my mouth, pretending to be focused on the cityscape visible through the window.
Salvatore’s body leans onto mine, and his hand comes to my waist. Hard lips press to the side of my neck, then teeth, biting lightly at the sensitive skin.
“Are you sure you’re indifferent toward me, cara?” he whispers and bites at my neck again.
I grab the edge of the counter and close my eyes. His mouth is now on my nape, kissing and nibbling. I need to fucking move away from him, but I can’t make myself do it.
“I’m sure,” I choke out and will my eyes to open.
“Let’s test that conviction of yours. Shall we?”
He moves his hand down my belly and inside my shorts. I take a deep breath and concentrate on the path his palm is taking. It feels so good I almost crumble.
His hand travels lower to between my legs and applies pressure onto my pussy. I suck in a breath, then exhale slowly as his fingers keep stroking me over the drenched fabric of my panties. Jesus. I close my eyes again, wondering where my composure has gone.
“Liar,” he whispers into my ear as he gently takes my earlobe between his front teeth. “Good night, Milene.”
Gently, he withdraws his hand from my shorts, and a few seconds later, I hear him leave the kitchen. Only once I am sure he’s gone do I open my eyes and bolt toward my own bedroom.
Chapter 14
I lean my shoulder on the support column that marks the kitchen area and cross my arms over my chest, watching Milene as she stirs whatever she is cooking on the stove. Why does she keep trying when she burns everything or sets something on fire whenever she attempts cook?
“If I remember correctly, you are forbidden to approach the stove,” I say.
She sends me an exasperated look over her shoulder, then goes back to her stirring. “Kurt has diarrhea. The article I read said to feed him boiled chicken.”
“Why didn’t you ask Ada to prepare it?”
“I’m capable of boiling two pieces of meat by myself.”
“Is there a medical issue your cat doesn’t have?”
“He’s had a hard life, Tore. Stress can lead to many medical issues. It’s obvious he was bullied.”
“Bullied?”
“Of course. Didn’t you see his tail?”
“Yes.” And its eye. And ear. And it’s also missing some hair on the back. That cat looks like it survived a nuclear catastrophe.
Milene reaches for a plate and fishes out two pieces of meat—enough to feed at least five cats—from the pot and cuts them into small cubes. When she’s done, she blows on the meat for almost a minute, then places the plate on the floor in the corner. Meanwhile, the pot is still on the stove with the burner on. Shaking my head, I walk over and turn it off.
