Page 63 of Inked Adonis

And there’s theotherbeautiful boy.

Sam leans against the wall like he owns it, all coiled power in casual clothes. The soft blue t-shirt stretches across his chest in a way that makes my mouth water. His dark slacks hug his thighs, and for a moment, all I can think about is how those thighs felt bracketing my hips last night.

“And who might you be, sweetheart?” Grams asks, but I catch the knowing glint in her eye.

Sam pushes off the wall with predatory grace, extending one large hand. “Samuil Litvinov. I’m the owner of this oversized attention seeker currently drooling on your lap. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Hogan.”

“Call me Serena.” Grams takes his hand, her eyes dancing. Then she turns to me with a look that spells trouble. “Nova brought a boy to meet me?”

“A friend,” I cut in quickly. “Samuil and I are friends.”

Friends.It even tastes like a lie.Friendsdon’t do what we did last night.Friendsdon’t snarl dark vows or threaten almost-kisses that would undo both of us in unfixable ways.

We aren’t friends.

Not even a little bit.

Sam drops into the chair beside her like a king claiming his throne, those long legs stretched out before him. Every woman in the room—from the residents to the nurses—is staring. I don’t blame them. I am, too.

“I have lots of questions.” Grams grins.

“Oh, God,” I groan.

“Let me guess,” Samuil interjects smoothly. “You want to know all about Rufus. Well, that’s a great place to start, because he’s the one who introduced me to your granddaughter. In a manner of speaking.”

I sink into a chair, caught between them like a ping-pong ball. For the next twenty minutes, I barely get a word in edgewise. Sam has Grams eating out of his hand, telling stories that make her laugh until she wipes tears from her eyes.

The bastard is charming my grandmother. And he’s doing it effortlessly.

“Well, it’s this old lady’s lunchtime,” Grams announces finally, clapping her hands together. Her eyes sparkle with mischief. “But I’m not done with you yet, Samuil. You’ll both stay for lunch. I insist.”

My stomach drops. I know that tone. It’s the same one she used when she convinced me to adopt a three-legged cat in high school. The one she used when she talked me into starting my own business instead of working for my father’s friend’s security company.

It’s her‘I know what’s best for you’voice. And right now, she thinks Sam is what’s best for me.

Fuck.

Because the worst part? Watching him with her, seeing how he leans in when she talks, how he keeps Rufus calm without even thinking about it, how his sharp edges seem to soften just a fraction…

I’m starting to think she might be right.

I have only myself to blame, though. I made a mistake by bringing him here, by letting him charm my grandmother, by not just allowing butinvitinghim to step into my world and annex it as part of his.

Now, he’s not so easy to hate. He was a kidnapper before. A bad idea. A distraction. Asin.

After twenty minutes, though, he’s suddenly the man who makes my grandmother laugh, who notices when her water glass is empty and refills it without being asked, who looks at me like he wants to devour me whole but speaks to her with genuine respect.

How the hell am I supposed to keep my walls up when he’s systematically dismantling them brick by brick?

Even as I watch him wheel Grams toward the dining room, his massive frame dwarfing her wheelchair, my chest aches. This isn’t what I signed up for. One night of pleasure in my cramped apartment shower wasn’t supposed to turn into... this.

But as he glances back at me, a small, private smile playing at his lips, I realize it might be too late to stop it.

I’m already falling.

And something tells me the landing is going to hurt like hell.

22

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