Page 7 of Heart of a Villain
He’d perfected ignoring most feelings, emotions, and the like; anger, hatred, and murder were all his playthings. When necessary, he could turn his empathy off with the flip of a psychic switch. Some things, however, never went away completely.
He smelled her in the shower.
As he dried his hair.
As his clothing touched his body.
Once again, a veiled Ayesha crawled on top of him in his dreams, and he didn’t pause, hesitate, or try to push her away. Instead, he pulled her nightgown off over her head and softly trapped her nipples between his teeth. He heard her moan and felt the buds grow firm in his mouth as he sucked until his cheeks caved. And when she rode him, kissing his lips, face, and neck and rolling her hips until pleasure sparked all the way down to his toes, he woke up and groaned as he came in his hand like a fucking juvenile.
Disgusted, he went to the bathroom to clean up.
Rather than return to bed, he went to the back patio, lay on a lounge chair, and stared up at the stars. Many people had purely sexual relationships. Why did his body insist on needing more?
During his life, he’d had only two lovers. Either he was a pitiful fuck, or, despite his most desperate wishes, he remained a secret, hopeless romantic who needed a connection as deep as the space between the soft legs he hoped to lose himself between.
“Adrían?” Dez’s wife’s sister appeared on the other side of the screen with a pair of heels in one hand, a large bag slung over her shoulder, and her hair pulled up into a braided bun. “It’s me, Wren. Larke’s sister?”
“I remember,” he said.
“Do you mind if I crash here? It’s full at Dez and Larke’s, and I need a little more breathing room. I’ve stayed here before, but I didn’t want to wake Julien up and ask him to program a code for me.”
He shook his head. “No, I don’t mind at all.”
“Are you sure? Really, if I’m imposing?—”
“I would enjoy your company, Wren.”
She smiled, chewing on the corner of her bottom lip. “Okay. I’ll be out front.”
He met her at the front door and stepped to the side to let her pass, her body lightly brushing his. Although the contact didn’t stir any immediate feelings of lust, that didn’t mean he didn’t find her attractive. She and her sister favored one another, except she had hair like a paprika spice blend and a face covered with dark freckles. Because she was almost done with law school, her visits were short, but Larke had shared that she would soon be taking the bar. Once she passed it, she planned to spend time in Sweden, which meant getting to know her better was possible. Unfortunately, a massive obstacle remained in his way.
“So, it’s just you, you said?” She slipped off her shoes and set the heels next to them in the entryway. “No one else? Just…us?”
“No one else,” he echoed. “It’s just us.”
He released the door, but it didn’t shut.
Without looking, he knew why.
Thanasis Korakas entered the house, so focused on Wren that Adrían took a few steps back, half-expecting Thanasis to bend and sniff at Wren like a wolf nearing an animal carcass.
Wren looked up at Thanasis, brows raised, waiting for him to say something, but intensity ran in Thanasis and Giorgio’s genes. The main difference between the two half-brothers was that Thanasis spoke perfect English and could maintain a conversation longer than four or five words. The main similarity was that the concept of “mine” was equivalent to locking onto a target with a surface-to-air missile.
“Thanks again for walking with me, Athanasios,” she said. “I’ll be all right from here. I, uh, won’t be alone.”
Adrían waved.
Thanasis looked over, noticing him for the first time.
It was well after midnight, but Thanasis was also wearing the same outfit from Theo’s party—an olive green jacket, a black shirt, and black pants. Based on the little bit Dez had shared, Thanasis appeared to have a “thing” for Wren, but it wasn’t clear, to anyone, what that “thing” was. Possibly, it was even less clear to Wren herself.
Wren cleared her throat.
Adrían caught her gaze, and she discreetly tipped her head in Thanasis’ direction and then looked at the ground, tucking stray pieces of wispy hair at her temple behind her ear.
“Well, I’m tired,” she said with a yawn that was nothing short of theatrical. “Good night, Athanasios. Adrían, I’ll see you in the morning.”
She hurried up the stairs, and Adrían watched her until she disappeared behind the wall of the upstairs hallway. Then he faced Thanasis again, whose narrowed gaze shoved a jagged shard of glass into his stomach.