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She makes her mouth a hard line. I can sense just how much she wants to argue. Instead, she nods, once.
“Good. Yuri will be your point of contact. I took the liberty of putting his contact information in your phone. If you want him directly, he’ll be here.” I open the door, and in rushes the cold, blustery morning wind. As expected, Yuri stands at attention down the drive, his back to us and a rifle indiscreetly held against his chest. I point at him. “That’s Yuri. You need anything, you go to him, do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be back later. Until then, lay low. And Kat—make sure your family does the same.” I don’t want to remain any longer and risk giving her any sense of hope or interest, so I simply turn and go, closing the door behind me.
Still, strangely—even after one night with her, not even one night trulywithher—walking away feels like leaving something behind.
Chapter Five
Kat
“I know, Mom, I’m sorry.” I pace, chewing on my thumbnail. Every once in a while, I stop in front of the living room window and push back the blinds. But every time I do, the scenery remains unchanged. There are the black SUVs. There are the Russian guards, posted like sentinels in the rain. There is the road that would lead me to my son; the road I am not permitted to take. “It came on so suddenly, out of nowhere. This woman who works in the office, she’s been sick all week—I should have known to keep my distance.”
“No, you’re right,” says my mother, but still, she sounds put-out. I can hear her doing something, washing dishes maybe, or fixing breakfast for Adam. “If you’re sick, you can’t be getting Adam sick, or the daycare won’t take him. And God knows I don’t want any bug that’s going around.”
“As soon as I’m fever-free, I’ll pick him up.” I lean against the counter, letting the blinds fall back into place behind me. I don’t like lying to my mom. I’m not good at it. The only reason I’m getting away with it is because it’s over the phone. “Which, by the way—mind if I talk to him for a minute? I’m—”
Mom breaks away from the phone to call out something, then gets back on, sounding harried. “He’s getting cleaned up for the day just now. I’ll have him give you a call a little later, OK? Look, I have to run, work is calling, and—”
“OK,” I say, biting my cheek. “Yeah, no, no problem. I’ll just give you a call later—”
“Great, Kat, bye.”
I’m left with a dead tone, holding my phone against my ear like an idiot. My brain is almost blank, and I can’t help but feel stung. Mom is always in a hurry. And I feel bad leaving Adamwith her on such short notice…but still. The brush-off never does feel great.
And now I’m left at home for the day, with nothing to do but stress. I glance at the table, the remnants of our breakfast still left there like a crime scene.Breakfast. Our breakfast. I ate breakfast with Aleksander Lukin this morning.In my house. At my table. Drinking my coffee.
Like he was my boyfriend.
I shake my head, startled by the thought that had overtaken my mind. A familiar warmth begins to peak in my chest, and for a moment, I let myself indulge in the feeling. It’s not like he was treating me horribly. I mean—by nature he didn’t really have that option. He’s here to protect me, after all. At least some part of him still gives a damn about me. And that’s…something. Right?Or is it just duty? Just housekeeping? Just old loyalty to my brother, his best friend?
I start gathering the dishes and piling them in the sink. He didn’t look at me like I was a nuisance. Not the whole time, at least. No…there were a few moments where he looked at me very differently. It was a hard, deep stare that made me feel pinned against the wall. He always knew how to shoot those looks that were penetrating in a way that made even my bones feel like they were breaking into a nervous sweat. And there were those near-smiles, the amusement that would barely show itself in his dark, beautiful eyes…
I brace my hands against the counter as the water begins to run hot onto the dishes, not helping the spinning thoughts that were beginning to take over my mind. It’s been so, so long since I’ve been with a man. Aleks wasn’t the last man I’d been with, though he was certainly the last good or memorable or meaningful one. With Adam, there hasn’t been a passing thought that had the availability to be about my dating life.My world is chaos, orbiting my four-year-old. And although sometimes it’s hard, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
But still…when was the last time I even thought about my needs?
When was the last time I thought about a man—thatman—satisfying them?
I feel a heat grow between my legs, deep in my core, and I let my eyes flutter closed as the memories begin to flood back into my mind in the silence of my kitchen, overwhelming me and my senses. Aleks and I had slept together once. We had stayed up through the night, and the booze was constantly flowing, as was our conversation. Eventually, as the hours passed, our bodies had scooted closer and closer, until our fingertips were grazing one another over the fabric of the couch. It’s been so long since that night of intimacy, and yet I can remember the way he touched me in such vivid color it could be happening right now, in this very moment: the heat of his breath that oh so gently fanned against my neck, sending shills down my spine; the way his lips first grazed the skin of my jaw, sending a jolt of energy through my already warm body; the way he slid his tongue over my bottom lip, his hand gliding up my back, and coming to rest as the nape of my neck, dominant but gentle. As if he was holding me still, as if to say:You’re mine, now, Kat. And as much as you might think it best that you run away…you’re not going anywhere.And then he kissed me. It was a kiss that I had imagined in my naïveté state, one that I wished I could experience. And then it was happening, and even as intoxicated as I was, the memory couldn’t have slipped my mind through the years if I tried.
And then, our kissing turned into hands moving and groping fervently, turned into fingers and tongues stroking one another. As one thing led to the next, I was practically ripping his clothes off with desperation, pulling him on top of me, wanting nothingmore in that moment than for his weight to be on top of me, for him to be inside of me. I didn’t want him inside of me—Ineededhim inside of me. It was like I’d never craved or hungered for or wanted anything else. Like I was a starving girl who had never eaten, and was tasting food, real food, for the first time in her life.
The heat of his body against mine was electric, and I felt as if I couldn’t breathe as he slid into me, filling me entirely with exactly what I’d begged him for. It was like nothing I had ever experienced, and it still shocks me in this moment to remember how intimate he was. So… soft with me. As if my skin was made of porcelain. We moved in synchronicity, as he pushed in and out of me, and my hips meeting his, grinding against him, feeling completely lost in the moment. An ache was beginning to grow somewhere deep in my core, and he understood what he was doing to me, as he snapped his hips into me, his grip on my hips holding me in place as he brought me to climax. His smirk has been tattooed into my memory after that night. That stupid, sexy, tightlipped grin he gave me as he thrusted his cock into me, silencing me with pleasure.
A knock at the door shocks me hard out of the memory. I can feel my heart pounding out of my chest as I bring myself back to reality, and I lift one palm to my cheek, feeling my face that is now burning with a peachy blush. The warmth of my skin brings my awareness to my other hand, which, in my nostalgic moment, led me to lean against the kitchen counter, and my thumb had subconsciously travelled to add pressure to the zipper on my jeans.
Jesus Christ, what am Idoing?I shake myself back into the moment, removing my hand from its pleasurable placement, and rushing to answer the door.
It’s the man Aleks pointed out to me—Yuri. His face is hard and unyielding in that way I might ignorantly just describe as Russian, and he’s smoking a cigarette.
“Hi,” I say, blinking in confusion. I hope that the color in my face has subsided. “Is everything alright?”
“Everything is fine. I just wanted to do a cursory look around the house every few hours. Just to make sure we’re clear.” His accent is strong, his gaze blunt and cold.
I realize he’s waiting for my permission to enter. “Oh,” I say, stepping aside. “Yeah, of course. Come in.”
