Page 10 of Ruthless Serenade

And as soon as she’s out of my sight and I’m left alone with my thoughts, my attention is drawn to a table near the back of the venue.

But it’s not the table that catches my attention. It’s the woman sitting there. Her back is slightly turned toward me, giving me a partial glimpse of her side profile. And I recognize her immediately. Every fucking cell in my body, every last nerve ending in my brain, knows.

Bozhe moy!

Is that…?

How the fuck is she here tonight?

Is she still performing here?

I am in shock. I really did not expect this. She probably doesn’t even know that I’m alive. My goddamn heart starts to pound so hard that I can practically feel it in my throat. How is it that I still lose my shit over her like this? After all this time? And why the fuck is she here?

Looks like seven years hasn’t been long enough. No matter how much I tried to forget her and her betrayal, she still fucks with my head. And now that she’s here, sitting just a few tables away from me, I feel like a horny, lovesick teenager.

Jesus Christ, she’s beautiful.

Maybe even more so than she used to be, if that’s even possible. Except she looks more mature. More serious. But she still has the same features, the features that used to turn me on so much that I couldn’t fucking control myself. The way those chestnut locks cascade down her back. The delicate curve of herchin. The way she sits at that table, leaning forward with her feet crossed at the ankles. It’s unmistakable.

Holy fuck, it really is her.

The more I stare at her, the more incredible she looks. Even from afar, I can see that the years have been more than kind to her. They transformed her from a beautiful young girl into a stunning, mature woman. She's got curves in all the right places and her body is even more voluptuous and lush than I remember. Her dress clings to her like it was made for her only, the neckline plunging just low enough to give me a tantalizing side-view of her cleavage.

I can't take my eyes off her as I drink in every inch of her smooth, flawless skin. Her hair is longer than it used to be, falling in soft waves around her face, and brushing against her bare shoulders. And her tits… Jesus Christ, those tits. They’re fuller, more luscious than ever, straining against the fabric of her dress like they're begging to be touched.

I feel a rush of heat to my groin, my cock twitching in my pants like I’m fucking seventeen. I have to shift in my seat to adjust myself, but it’s no use. The sight of her has me rock-hard and ready to go. Before I know it, my mind is flooded with memories of all the filthy things we used to do together.

I know I should look away. I should focus on something else, but I can’t. I’m transfixed, my eyes glued to her like a starving animal staring at a feast.

She’s here with a man.

Husband?

Boyfriend?

Date?

Dammit, Korolev!

Jealousy starts to rage through me. Actually, it’s more than just jealousy. It’s a toxic cocktail of emotions - shock, anger, resentment, and a twisted sense of joy that I can’t even begin to explain. Seeing Mindy so unexpectedly makes me feel alive in a way I haven’t felt in a long time. It’s like a jolt of electricity to my dead heart, a shock to the system waking me up from the numb haze I’ve been living in.

Eva slides back into the booth, a coy smile playing on her freshly painted lips. "How do you like my makeup, Maron?" she asks, batting her lashes at me like a schoolgirl feigning innocence. “Rachel helped me choose the lipstick. She says it emphasizes my lips and brings out my eyes more."

Fuck!

I barely spare her a glance, my eyes still fixed on Mindy. And the mention of Rachel only solidifies my resolve to end this relationship. I can’t take another goddamn minute of this.

"Did you change your makeup?" I ask.

It’s a dumb question, but it’s all I can come up with right now. Eva frowns, her perfectly shaped brows knitting together in confusion. "Yes. I put on this new shade of lipstick…"

…And she starts talking, going into an endless rant about her makeup choices and how they bring out her features. I’m not listening. I can’t pay attention to a single word she’s saying, not when every fucking fiber in my body is being drawn to the woman sitting at that table, in the far corner of the venue. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought Eva here. But how was I supposed to know that Mindy would be here tonight?

"Maron? What’s wrong?" Eva tries to catch my eye, her voice tinged with concern. "Are you sure you’re okay? You seem distracted."

I don’t answer. I can’t. My mind is a clusterfuck of desire, rage, resentment, and regret. I know I’m being a dick, ignoring Eva like this, but I can’t help it. Seeing Mindy after all this time, so unexpectedly, has completely thrown me off balance. I’m shaken to my core in a way I never expected.

"Maron, seriously! What’s going on?" Eva’s voice cuts through my thoughts, sharper this time. "I know you haven’t heard a word I said."

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