Page 70 of The Harbinger
“No. Just sore.”
I must’ve landed on it funny, bruising it.
He nodded, then placed my hand on my lap with ease. Did he suffer from multiple personalities? Had I hit my head so hard I’d imagined some sort of his personality that contradicted the rest?
“We’ll have Sergei look at it if it gets worse.”
“I’ll be fine.” I scooted away from him and turned my gaze toward my pillow. “Besides, I won’t be staying.”
“Is that right?”
Sacha snapped his fingers, pointing towards the pillow, and without a second thought, I crawled across the bed. Tucking myself under the covers. I curled in on my side, the sound of phantom footsteps in my head.
“Yes. I want to go home.”
“You think you have a choice?”
“Don’t I?”
“Not in the slightest.”
I pulled the covers over my chest, tucking it under my chin, when he shrugged out of his suit jacket and tossed it over the chair. His tie came next, tugging it from side to side to loosen the knot.
“What are you doing?”
He slid the tie from his collar and unbuttoned the first two buttons at the top of his shirt. “What does it look like?”
“Like you’re getting into bed with me?”
“Well, aren’t you observant?”
I was observant of him—more than he realized. Like how I’d figured out he preferred things a certain way—I’d found that out the hard way with the books. Or how I’d studied the tattoos on his hands, arms, thighs, and chest.
“What if I don’t want you to sleep with me? I mean… not with me, but in my bed?”
“I don’t remember asking.”
Sacha pulled his dress shirt up and out of his trousers, then draped it over the back of the chair. His belt came next, and the sound of it clicking against itself sent a chill down my spine. He shucked off his shoes and placed them beneath the chair, then pushed his pants down, revealing his lack of underwear.
I gasped and tore my gaze from his thick penis hanging between his legs. “Are all Russians like this?”
“Like what,milaya?”
My attention snapped away from his tattooed skin as his timbre tore through the air, and I gasped a reply, my words barely escaping my lips. “Baring yourself without shame?”
Sacha glanced down at the growing member, and I tightened the sheets around my throat as if they’d protect me.
“I guess you’re not sure if you’ve ever seen one before, am I right?”
“Would it matter if it was? You walk around here naked like you don’t care that anybody sees you. Doesn’t it bother you?”
“Why should it?”
“It’s not normal,” I murmured, turning my back to him.
Sacha climbed onto the bed and slipped beneath the sheets. “You may not remember much, but your American upbringing sure hasn’t faded away.”
The hairs on my neck raised.