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I find myself looking forward to what he’s going to say. This is the most playful he’s been the whole trip, and I’m weirdly enjoying this text banter.
Sex God of the Seas: Can I show you how sorry I am?
Tempting, but he needs to work a little harder for it.
Me: Try again.
Sex God of the Seas: Fine. I have just the thing.
Me: ?
Sex God of the Seas: It’s a surprise. Tomorrow AM. Meet me on the main deck nice and early.
Me: Details?
Sex God of the Seas: Nope.
Me: Fine.
I take a deep breath, my fingers hovering over the keys. But he has to hear this.
Me: And Leo… no more getting involved in my shit. I can handle myself.
Sex God of the Seas: I know you can. You proved yourself with just a pocketknife.
I’m still surprised at myself, if I’m honest. Never in a million years did I imagine I’d rely on Leo’s training in a life-and-death situation. But when it comes down to it, he is the reason I’m not being held captive right now.
Me: I did have a good trainer.
Sex God of the Seas: It was not just fighting if I recall…
A small smile curls my lips. Yeah, his training was extensive, and it certainly wasn’t just fighting.
Me: Right. Going to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.
The little blue dots appear, and then stop. And then appear once again.
Leo: Sweet dreams, butterfly.
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
7 YEARS AGO
ALYONA
Leo standsin front of me, knife in hand, his eyes locked on my own. I wipe my hands on my thighs, trying to swallow down my nerves. “Is this really necessary?”
“You know it is,” he responds, with a raised brow. I nod, but I can’t tear my gaze away from the blade glinting in his grasp. I don’t feel comfortable with knives, no weapons really. Even if it is just for self-defense. As I’ve reminded Leo a hundred times, most people don’t need to learn how to defend themselves with a knife, and since I plan on living life like most people—far from the world that stole my beloved papa from me—this lesson is pointless.
But Leo insisted, and I can’t say no to this man. Especially not after the last four weeks—we’ve barely managed to make it out of bed. If I’m going to be honest, at some point it became less about Leo teaching me, and more about us exploring. Discovering each other. Devouring each other. I had no idea sex was supposed to be like this.All-consuming. My girlfriends never talked about sex like it was an addiction, the best high one can imagine. But with Leo, that’s what it is.
We’ve spent most of July living life. Doing what normal people do. Exploring Long Island on his bike, spending hours lounging on sandy beaches, the sun warming our skin, while our evenings are spent around a bonfire, wrapped up in each other and talking under the starlit sky.
Even while we're immersed in our own little world, Leo doesn’t lose sight of the bigger picture. Which is why he’s dragged me out of bed and down to the training room this morning. He insists that there are bad people everywhere, even outside of bratva life, and that self-defense is a necessary skill. He already insists that I keep my bedroom door shut when I'm not in my room—a precaution, he calls it—a way to spot any sign of intrusion.
I’m not crazy about the idea of knife training but I’m willing to play along if it puts his mind at ease. There’s not much I wouldn’t do for him.
“Ready, butterfly?” He kisses the side of my head, and my stomach flutters at his show of affection.
