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“Yeah,” I breathe as he hands me my shorts sans panties.
Tugging them on, I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, knowing that I really should clean up, but I don’t want to move from where I am. I don’t want him to ever take his eyes off of me. His gaze searches mine and I continue to smile as I watch him.
“Fuck,” he hisses, closing the distance between us. He lifts his hands and cups my cheeks as he stares into my eyes. He sees everything. Every single thing about me. Dipping his chin, he touches his mouth to mine, just holding it there.
“When I thought you were hurt,” he sighs. “I failed you again after I promised I never would again. I’m fucking useless.”
“No,” I exhale. “No. You did not fail me. Not at all. Those women, they are the ones at fault. They are the ones who did this. I answered the door. I shouldn’t have. It has nothing to do with you. The precautions you took were spot on.”
He grunts against my mouth. “We’ll talk about you answering the door after we deal with the living room, after everyone has left.”
Ruslan takes a step back, then jerks his chin toward the door, his demand for me to move clear without him saying a single word. He’s angry with me. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him at all that I answered the door, but I can’t lie to him, and I can’t allow him to feel guilty for something that is clearly not his fault.
Stepping to the side, he reaches out for my hand. Slipping my palm into his, together we walk out of the bedroom and into the living room.
Judging by the looks on the men’s faces as we make our way into the room, they heard everything. I should probably feel embarrassed, but when I see the looks of pure hatred on the women’s faces, it makes up for any and all embarrassment.
