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The limo pulls away, and I let out a sigh. “They won’t call.”
Vlad unzips the backpack. “This should help.”
Inside the bag is a drill, a keychain, and a box with, presumably, the video doorbell.
When we get to my door, I watch Vlad install it all in a matter of minutes—an unexpected display of handyman abilities that’s a stronger aphrodisiac than urchin gonads.
Once the doorbell is set up and I have the prerequisite app running on Precious, Vlad says, “Let’s test it.”
I go inside and flip on the new keychain, leaving him on the doorstep.
He rings the doorbell.
Precious shows me his gorgeous face.
“Yep. It works.” I open the lock but not the keychain.
He tries to open the door, but the keychain thwarts him.
“Great.” I let him in for real, my heartbeat speeding up as I prepare to be bold once again. Looking him in the eyes, I say as steadily as I can manage, “Now we should probably resume the other kind of testing.”
His face goes taut. “You sure?”
Instead of an answer, I lead him into the living room and open the suitcase again.
Like one of Pavlov’s dogs, I’m already salivating at the promise of more orgasms.
“I almost forgot.” Vlad takes out a small bundle of lacy cloth from his pocket. “You left this in my bathroom.”
Holy crap. I forgot my underwear at his house and didn’t even realize it.
Cheeks going nuclear, I snatch the panties out of his hand. “Sorry about that. Had to leave in a rush and all.”
“About that.” He steps closer, his eyes impossibly blue behind the lenses of his glasses. “I hope you’re okay.”
Okay? What is he—oh. All the warm fuzzies leave me as I recall last night and the way he so abruptly pulled away.
“Was it because I looked like a freak?” I blurt.
His brow furrows. “What are you talking about?”
“We kissed. You pulled away. You thought I looked like a freak, right?” I gesture at my fake eyebrows.
His expression shifts from confusion to unmistakable desire, his lids lowering as his eyes sweep hungrily over my body. Stepping up to me, he cradles my face in his broad palms. “Fannychka…” His voice is rough velvet. “You’d be beautiful without a single hair on your head.”
Oh. My. God. If I were a computer, system error messages would be blaring through my speakers. As is, my heart hammers, and every hair on my body stands on end, as if an electric current is running under my skin.
I. Am. So. Turned. On.
“You had vodka in your system,” he continues without letting me go. “And I—” He takes a deep breath. “I want your mind clear when you beg me to fuck you.”
Wow. Now the computer would explode.
I was not expecting to hear those words come out of his mouth—and now that they have, the images dancing in my mind are beyond X-rated.
And hot.
So scorching hot that I seem to have lost my tongue.
