Page 110 of Cruel Love

“I, uh…” I take a quick step away, briefly turning my back to him as I raise the glass to my lips to hide the sip I’m not actually taking, and sit down on the single armchair by the heart-shaped coffee table. “Okay, I’m a dancer. You got me.”

He takes a drink from his own glass and grins. “I knew it,” he says as he sits down in the second chair across the table from me. “So, you’re an American dancer and, judging by your accent, I’d guess you’re from the Midwest. Chicago area, specifically. Am I close?”

I think to deny it but the answer is clearly written on my face.

Gio laughs with smug, twisted lips. “My family is from there, too. Well, not from there, but that’s where they are now.”

I set my glass down on the table in front of me. “Small world,” I joke.

He nods slowly, his neck barely moving. “Yes,” he says. “So, I ask you again, where did you learn to dance like that?”

A chill crawls down my spine, taking over my lower back. I hear the clip of gunfire echoing in the back of my head, followed by the horrified screams of my friends before the auditorium ignites in a blaze of fire above Marty’s shrill laughter. My knee throbs once.

“A studio downtown,” I lie. “They do mostly hip-hop and Zumba but they had a pole dancing class last summer, so…” I shrug. “Figured it’d come in handy someday.”

“And you were right.”

Gio plunks his glass down and I flinch at the sudden sound. He studies me for a moment more, the edges of his lips twitching.

“You seem nervous,” he says.

I take a slow, soothing breath. “Just not really sure what I’m doing back here, that’s all.”

“You asked for it,” he says simply.

“I what?”

“You came here looking for someone.”

I shake my head. “No, I—”

“Someone, anyone really,” he says over me, flashing a smile. “It can get cold in Moscow, even at this time of year. Tourists usually come to the Obuvi looking to leave to a warm bed.”

“Right,” I say. I look down, showing a bit of feigned girlish embarrassment. “I looked out into the crowd and you were one of the more pleasant faces, so I focused on you.”

“Well, I don’t doubt that,” he says with a chuckle. “The locals are a bit…”

“Brutish?”

“I was going to say ugly as sin, but that applies, too.”

I laugh as he does. If I didn’t know more about who this man is, I might find him charming. On the surface, he’s nothing like his slimy younger brother. I hate to think what would happen to a girl who didn’t know who he was and fell for it.

I lick my lips and tap my nails against my knee. I can’t reach into my boot for the needle in front of him like this. I have to get closer to him.

My eyes linger on the couch beside him for a purposeful second too long. When I flick them back to gaze at Gio, I make sure he noticed.

“Come here,” he says.

I slowly rise, taking my drink with me as I wander over to his couch. He pivots his position as I sit down, his eyes taking a very obvious stroll downward toward my navel and back up over my breasts. Being so close to him feels absolutely disgusting but I feel a chill of hope travel up my leg from my boot.

“I didn’t just bring you back here for a quiet drink,” he says, a smirk on his lips. “Impress me and I’ll make sure you have a warm night.”

Gross.

I rest a hand on his thigh, letting my eyes fall to his crotch. He takes the silent cue and leans back, giving me access to his belt.

Bile rises quickly but I swallow it down, keeping a seductive gaze on him as I slide to my knees in front of him.

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