Page 16 of One Love

“Coincidence is the nightlight we use when truth is the monster under the bed.” His voice drops to a whisper as every hair on my body stands on end. “Never pegged you for someone afraid of a little darkness.”

“How did you know where to find me?”

My body presses harder against his, my forearm at the base of his neck and my blade poised right above his carotid artery. One nip and I could have him bleed out.

“Hmmm, I love that we play with the same toys.” His knife isn’t threatening any vital areas as he digs the blade a little too deep and breaks the skin. I don’t flinch but I’m not going to lie, it stings.

Worse, I like it and it’s all the distraction he needs to bring his free hand up to my jaw and turn our positions so that my back isnow against the door. Behind me, the music and loud voices in the bar drown out the sounds of our panting.

It’s just him and me in a shitty bathroom playing with knives and I can’t help the thrill that sings throughout my bloodstream. I’m fully aware that being turned on by violence probably means there’s something wrong with me. Wrong and without hope of repair. In this moment though, I couldn’t give any less of a fuck.

“Tell me,” I start, my voice even and low. “Do you have a death wish?”

Dmitry brings his dagger to my cut and scrapes up just a little before he holds the metal up to his mouth, the tip smeared with my blood. I watch, rapt attention focused on his bold moves, as he slowly drags his tongue along the blade and closes his eyes like he’s tasting a fine wine.

I roll my eyes at his overly dramatic antics, almost smiling but pushing that shit down fast.

“What the fuck do you want, Dmitry?” I grit out, tired of playing games.

“This.” One word is all he says as his eyes linger on my mouth then drag up to my eyes. “You and me, alone, in a compromising position. But more than anything, I want to hear you say my name again.” I narrow my eyes at him, searching his face for any malice, any clue that might indicate he’s a danger to me.

I grin when a slow groan drags out of his mouth, his body going completely still.

“Now, by my calculations,” I begin, narrowing my eyes but speaking slowly, like I’m giving instructions to a two-year-old. “I’m willing to bet a big—no, a huge—sum of money on the fact that one awkward move on my part and you’ll never be able to father children.” My head cocked to the side, I press my knife to his balls just enough to accentuate my words.

Dmitry tsks once, twice, his mouth closing in on mine, his breath fanning out across my face as he murmurs just loudenough for me to hear him clearly. “What am I going to do with you,muj dáblíku?” At this point, I have no idea what he’s saying, his words suddenly turning foreign with hard syllables and dominant vowels. For all I know, he’s calling me a cunt.

“It’s okay, though. You’ll soon learn that your threats don’t scare me. They turn me the fuck on.” I narrow my eyes again, this time to search his face. Calm confidence oozes from him. He isn’t buff from the gym but he is definitely solid, probably nothing more than good genes. The scar that travels from just above his eyebrow to land in the middle of his cheekbone doesn’t take away from his features. If anything, it brings more attention to the chilling green of his eyes, the sharp edges of his jaw and the prominent, straight Roman nose that is currently breathing me in from my collar bone right up to my temple.

My personal space doesn’t exist anymore. Every inch of me is covered by every inch of him as his fingers press just a little harder around my neck and his lips brush across my own. The moment is brief, the electricity traveling through me lasting only a second, but I feel it. The sting, the slight burn, the tantalizing ignition of every one of my nerve endings, is real. It awakens something in me that I lost with Murphy and that thought just pisses me the fuck off.

I don’t know this guy and I’m not in the business of getting into the proverbial bed with someone I met five seconds ago.

My knife presses against his balls, his sharp intake of breath telling me I’m in the right place, before I tell him a few truths of my own.

“Look, you delusional fuck. I’m not some naïve, sheltered college kid looking for a good time. My weapons aren’t props.” With how close he is to me, there’s no need for me to speak loudly. Hell, I could whisper and he’d hear me perfectly. I do, apparently, need to speak clearly. “I’m in a good mood.” I’m not anymore but I’ll take one for the team. “And you’re Zavier’s littletech guy so I’m just going to say this once then I expect you to walk away.” My blade pierces the thick denim of his jeans as I make sure it’s not too close to his baby makers. I’m generous like that.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, zero fear or willingness to back away clear in the way his pupils dilate and his nostrils flare. “You’re so fucking hot when you lay down the law.” Instead of pulling away to avoid permanent damage, this fucking sociopath leans in closer, like he’s searching out the pain.

And that? It is a small clue that pain and probably violence has the same effect on him as it does on me. For a fraction of a second, everything around me disappears. No more music thumping, no more stuffy smell from the bathroom, no more cool feel of the closed door.

This blissful moment holds us in a bubble where I can let my body dictate what it wants.

“It doesn’t matter what you believe right now, Little Demon. All that matters is that you and me…” His nose returns to my cheek where he inhales me like a wolf sizing up its prey. “We’re the same. There isn’t a single soul out there in the world that can understand us and, baby, I’m okay with that.”

When his mouth captures mine, I’m so lost in this weird twilight zone where I’m getting hypnotized by a stranger who thinks he knows me, that I allow the kiss. No, that’s not right. I don’t allow it, I fucking welcome it like a breath of fresh air after a lifetime in a coal mine.

Our mouths are deadly as he takes what he wants with every lashing of his tongue against mine, every hard bite from his teeth when I try to take control. This only fuels me on, knowing that I can’t scare him with my violent needs. That I can’t hurt him with my rage.

My free hand curls into a fist, rearing back before pushing against his shoulder, not because I want him gone but because Iwant to know how far I can take this. How far he’s willing to let this crazed moment go before he walks away.

Fingers tightening right under my jaw, it’s becoming clear that he’s cutting off my air supply just enough to get my brain to kick into survival mode.

Adrenaline releases in my bloodstream and my body freezes. My entire body, that is, except for my mouth. The same mouth that, instead of stopping this ridiculous kiss, ups the stakes, trapping his bottom lip between my teeth and biting, hard, until skin breaks and blood coats my tongue.

We both moan, the coppery taste like a burst of vivid colors in an otherwise black and white television show.

I’m so fucking turned on, I don’t realize my knife is still threatening his groin, or that the thumping outside is no longer from the music, but someone banging for us to get the fuck out of here. We just can’t be bothered to care as we fuck each other using only our mouths, letting our bodies predict what this could feel like if we were flesh to flesh and he fucked every hole I had.

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