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I shouldn’t be surprised. And I shouldn’t feel as dejected—or rejected—as I do. “Hit it and quit it. I get it.”
Demyen actually flinches like the words themselves slapped him. But he nods again. “Something like that.”
And then he walks out of the laundry room and into the midnight air.
I shouldn’t feel so disappointed.
I shouldn’t feel like I could cry.
But I can’t understand how it’s possible to be so full and so empty at the same time.
58
DEMYEN
Well,thatwas a colossal mistake.
A fucking delicious, mind-blowing, toe-curling, dick-draining mistake.
One that I definitely don’t regret making.
Except now, I’m distracted from actual work and responsibilities by the constant thought ofWhat if we do it again?Or what if I just moved Clara into my bedroom and we make it a nightly occurrence? Shit, why just the night? My libido doesn’t give a fuck what time of day it is.
I almost sleep straight through both my alarms the morning after. When I do finally wake up, I feel more refreshed than I have in months.
“Oh no, no, no. Tell me you didn’t.” Bambi scowls at me as she answers her own unasked question. “Tell me it was one of the escorts and not?—”
“Shit, who cares who it was?” Pavel grins at me over his mug of coffee as he joins her side. “Let’s just give thanks where thanks is due.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I’m not that?—”
“Yes, you are.” They declare it in unison, totally deadpan. Like it’s been obvious to everyone but me.
Pavel shrugs. “I mean, we all go through our slumps. Yours just happens to last a decade and results in more missing persons than it should.”
Bambi rolls her eyes but I notice she doesn’t exactly disagree with him. “Just be careful. Things are difficult enough on Willow as it is. I’m not sure introducing a new family dynamic is the best for her?—”
“Enough.” I hold a hand up to stop them both in their tracks. “You’re making a hell of a lot of assumptions, there.”
“Am I, though?”
I glare venomously until they leave shortly after. I spend the next who-the-fuck-knows-how-long staring at the wall of my office, trying to figure shit out.
My phone buzzes on the desk and yanks me from my thoughts.Thank God.
At least, that's what I think—until I see who’s texting me.
RAIZO:I’ve narrowed the list of interested buyers down. Each of those who made the cut agreed to cash on delivery. Very eager to acquire your artifact. Should bring an exceptional price.
There’s no ignoring the nausea that suddenly grips my stomach.
This is what I wanted. Everything is going according to plan. I found the person responsible for Tolya’s hell; I captured her; I struck a great bargain with Raizo; he’s pulling through on his end. I just don’t have the time or the energy to focus on trivial details like vetted buyers, payment processing, blah blah blah.
What’s troubling is that I also don’t seem to have thewillpower.
It’s not just the sex. It’s the way she… fuck, the way sheeverything. The way she walks, talks, breathes. Blinks. Giggles at the stupidest jokes and fawns over exotic flowers. Reads bedtime stories with the voices and sings lullabies that damn near knock down every last one of my walls.
The way she steals glances at me when she thinks I’m not looking and, when she does, it’s not hate or fear in her eyes.
