Page 16 of Brutal Secrets
The sound of footsteps brings me out of my daze. Kesera edges into the room, her gaze darting to everything but focusing on nothing. A black belt winds around her slender waist, holding up a pair of my sweatpants beneath a massive wooly gray top of mine. She looks so scared as she stands in the bedroom doorway and looks up at me with her arms wrapped around herself.
“Moya zolotaya.” I wave her toward a seat, and she pads over to the rickety table, gaze bouncing around the room. I tip the butter into the pan and watch it melt into brown bubbles. The eggs hiss when I pour them in, and I focus on that, trying to ignore feeling as if I’ve failed again.
“I’m so hungry, I could eat anything.” Her voice is artificially bright and strained.
I plonk down a plate of rye bread and eggs that have crisped at the edges and slide it toward her, then pour us both some coffee. “That’s good, because I’m not much of a cook. When did you last eat?”
She picks up a fork, her arms awash in the fabric of my old sweater, and waves it back and forth pensively. She’s so tiny, swimming in my old clothes.
“Dunno. Yesterday morning, maybe. I can’t eat before a show.” She scoops a forkful of eggs into her mouth, closing her eyes and letting out a soft moan that makes me think of how she looked naked. I shift in my seat. My sweats don’t hide much, and the noise she makes sends all the blood in my body rushing south.
She opens her eyes and mechanically scoops up the remaining eggs as she watches me. My discomfort must be visible, but not for the reasons she thinks. She eats the last mouthful and points the fork at me.
“What’s going on, Vadim? If you don’t want me here, you can take me back. I’ve been on my own a long time, and I’ll survive whatever Jimmy throws at me. He’s worse when he’s drunk, but he’ll be sober by now. Look, I don’t want...” Her voice trails off as she stares over my shoulder at the expanse of trees and snow beyond the window. “I don’t want to put you to trouble, okay? You don’t need to look after me. I’m a big girl.”
She sits up a little straighter in her chair, pulling her shoulders back and trying to look brave. She just looks young and scared in clothes ten sizes too big for her.
I lean across the table and tuck a finger under her chin to tilt her face upward. “It’s not you.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.” She offers a bitter laugh.
I cup her face in my hand and look at her. She’s even more beautiful in my old clothes, with no makeup to shadow her big green eyes. “I’m out of my depth, okay?”
I walk back to the sink, bracing my hands on the side and looking out at the sun sinking lower between the bare branches. Breath saws in and out of my chest.
“I don’t bring women out here. I don’t sleep in a bed with them or lend them my clothes. I’m good for a quick fuck, but I don’t know how to do anything more.”
A spider crawls across the sink and makes its way up the wall, looking for a fly to trap. It starts to spin a line of thread and crawls along it toward a corner of the window. I return my attention to the sink, thinking about whether to drive her back to Moscow when I hear her footsteps and feel her tap me on the back. My heart tries to beat its way out of my chest as I slowly turn around.
She looks small and breakable as she stands in front of me, shifting from foot to foot, her eyes looking past me to the snowy woods outside. I want to pull her into my arms, but what if I scare her? I lean back against the sink and watch her.
“I’m not very good with men either.” She chuckles and lifts her shoulder. “You tell me you look at me and think of sex. I find that hard to imagine, but I’ll try to believe you.”
“What else would I be thinking of?” I look down at her halo of bronze curls. Their colors shimmer in the light from the window, and I want to plunge my fingers into them and use her hair to move her body.
“Well, you were surrounded by beautiful women.” Her gaze sinks to my mouth, and she licks her lips.
“Yeah, and I’m surrounded by half-naked women every time Sasha and I are in one of those clubs with our boss. Not to mention the brothels.” I shrug and then wince. I shouldn’t bring up brothels. She must think I’m a pig. I stare down at her. Her eyes are the color of the woods in spring, but they’re clouded by doubt. “Why don’t you believe me?”
She tries to turn her head away, suddenly shy. “It’s just that . . . men, you know, they don’t want . . . I can’t. “
“Fucking hell, zolotaya. I’m the only man here, and I don’t want to think about anyone else touching your body. I lost control because I want you so much. I did it wrong.”
I give in to temptation, sliding my hand into her hair and pulling her head back until we’re both breathing hard as we look at each other. I sink into her green eyes like I’m lost in a forest, giving in and slamming my mouth against hers, kissing her like a plundering army. She gives a soft moan and I reach down to cup her buttocks, pulling her tight against my erection as she winds her legs around me.
God, I want her so much it hurts.
She mewls like a kitten as her tongue slides against mine and her hands thread into the hair at the nape of my neck. When she starts to rock against me, I go still. If I start now, I won’t be able to stop.
Drawing back, I press my forehead against hers, my breath coming in sharp pants. I can taste the mint from her toothpaste.
“Now do you believe me?” I breathe against her mouth, and she presses her lips to mine before she buries her face in my neck.
“You stopped,” she whispers against my skin, sending electric currents along my vertebrae.
“Because if I didn’t, then I wouldn’t be able to.” I lift her away from me and set her on her feet, spinning her to face the table where she’s left a slice of buttered rye bread untouched. “Eat, please. You nearly collapsed on me last night.”
She steps toward me and presses a kiss to my cheek before tiptoeing back to the table and jamming a large bit of bread into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully while she watches me.