Page 19 of Deck the Skulls
Zan followed her gaze and frowned a little. “He won’t be in pain, but yeah, let’s put him to bed.”
Tucking his phone away, Zan strode to Anatoly and lifted him easily, cradling the smaller man against his chest. Anatoly remained limp despite the jostling.
“Wow, he is a deep sleeper,” Rissa said.
“You have no idea,” Zan said with a chuckle. “Could you get the door, please?”
“Sure.” she hurried to the apartment's front door. “I take it this isn’t your place?”
“It’s the empty second-floor apartment,” Zan answered. “We didn’t want you to feel like we were taking advantage, and this place seemed more neutral.”
“That was thoughtful,” she agreed, feeling a strange warmth in her chest. It’d been a long time since anyone cared this much about her. Even for the brief times she’d been in the system, it was all about seeing to the basic needs of food and shelter. There hadn’t been any worry over her mental state.
After her mom died, there’d been no one that truly cared if she lived or died. Except now she got the feeling that Anatoly and Zan were different. They might be a couple, but they had enough love and affection to extend to her.
That was both exciting and terrifying. No one in her life ever stayed. Social workers and teachers came and went through the years. Her mother left her in the most permanent way possible, death. If she started sleeping with them, how long would the relationship last? If she got attached, it would be devastating to lose them.
She could already tell it would be easy to fall in love with these two.
All these thoughts jumbled around in her head as she followed Zan up a flight of stairs. At the top was another door, and she had to squeeze her arm around him to open it. She hesitated to follow him inside the apartment. It felt intrusive.
“Come on in,” Zan called back. “There are a few things up here for you.”
Things for her? Curiosity and the desire to stay near the men pushed her to enter their space. She was startled to find that the apartment was larger than the one below. It took her a moment to realize that this space must extend over the empty shop next to Sanguine. Did they own the entire building?
The living room was nice sized, with an open kitchen to the right of the door. All the furniture was sleek and stylish, probably more Anatoly than Zan. Except for the battered easy chair in front of the TV. The recliner screamed Zan. She could easily picture him stretched out in it with only boxer shorts on, watching something with a beer in his hand.
She could also picture Anatoly’s disgruntled expression at the piece of furniture, but he’d never say anything to hurt Zan’s feelings. Not even suggest buying something newer or nicer.
Hurrying to catch up to Zan, she stopped at the doorway to their bedroom and watched him gently deposit Anatoly on the bed. He hummed as he started stripping Anatoly. It was only when he got to the man's pants that Rissa turned and walked back into the living room.
As much as she wanted to see what was under those clothes, it needed to be when Anatoly was awake and consenting. She walked over to a window to look down on the quiet downtown street. She could even see the ocean from here.
“You’re a sweetheart,” Zan said, coming up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and rested his head on top of hers. He’d done this with Anatoly too. Was it a move he did with everyone, or did it mean something?
“Why do you say that?” she asked, trying to get out of her own head.
“You left the room when I was getting Anatoly naked. It was considerate,” he explained. His muscled body was pressed against hers, making it hard to concentrate on his words. “I bet you would’ve done the same even if I told you he wouldn’t mind if you saw him.”
“You’re saying that, not him,” she murmured.
“Later, he’ll tell you himself that he wants you to look and touch as much as you like,” Zan said, then abruptly let go and turned her around with gentle pressure on her shoulders. “Come on, let me show you what he ordered!”
“Ordered? When?” she asked, following Zan to the kitchen area. She’d noticed the table with shopping bags earlier, but assumed they were things the guys hadn’t put away yet. As they got closer, Rissa recognized the logo on the bags. They were all from a high-end boutique only a few miles away.
“Last night,” Zan said, digging into one of the bags. “Anatoly knows the owner of this place and asked her to send over a bunch of stuff. He’s got a great sense of style.”
Zan paused, then looked at her. “You don’t have to wear any of it. I promise Anatoly won't be hurt. He only wanted to make sure you had something to wear today. If the outfit works, I thought we could grab some breakfast, then you could run some errands with me before we need to open.”
Rissa didn’t know how to react. No one had done anything like this before. “He bought me clothing?”
“And some shoes and other stuff,” Zan said, pulling out items and handing them to her. “Do you want to try them on?”
He looked so excited she didn’t want to disappoint him. “They might not fit,” she warned him.
“We can take them back today for other sizes,” Zan said. “Shannon won’t mind.”
Taking one of the items from him, she held it up to find it was a deep red, flowing top in the style she favored. The other item was a thigh-length skirt in a light gray with a matching jacket. They were both soft and light, perfect for the temperate San Diego winter.