Page 67 of 10 Days to Ruin

“I h-ha… h-hate…”

“What’s that? I can’t hear you.”

Something is building inside of me. Pressure condensing, heat rising, light coalescing like a Big Bang getting ready to birth whole new universes.

Sasha bends down. “Say it right to me, princess,” he orders. “I want you to come with a curse on your lips.”

I try. I swear to God I do. “F-f-fu—” But it won’t work right; nothing will; nothing but Sasha’s fingers spreading me open while my spine arches toward the ceiling. Fluttery mewls pour out of me, one on the heels of the next.

Sasha keeps going. He’s panting, too. “Seven days left,” he murmurs, lips grazing my ear. “That’s what you wanted. But you’re already halfway there, aren’t you?”

“Go tohell?—”

He bends down to ravage my mouth and swallow the curse, kissing me until the room spins. One hand fists my hair, angling my head to deepen the contact. The other pumps into me. Every atom in my body screams as I charge toward a breaking point that might just kill me.

Ploy backfiring in 3… 2…

A gong reverberates through the room.

Sasha freezes. So do I.

Emil’s muffled voice floats through the door. “Mr. Ozerov? The next stage of your session is ready.”

You cannot be serious.Inwardly, I’m not sure if I should be laughing, crying, sobbing, or shouting for joy.

Outwardly, my manic laugh echoes off the tiles. I sound giddy, insane. “Saved by the bell. Literally.”

Sasha rests his forehead against mine, grip tightening on my hips. The war in his eyes mirrors the one in my chest—need versus control, fire versus ice.

“This isn’t over,” he vows.

“Feels pretty over from where I’m standing, er— Lying. Whatever.”

His growl flays me raw as he steps back. “Keep telling yourself that. We’ll see who believes it first.”

He scoops my bikini up from the floor and drops it in my lap. Then he turns and strides out, shrugging into one of the waiting bathrobes as he goes.

The door slam reverberates down to my bones.

Alone, I sit up, knees hugged to my chest. The ghost of his hands brands my skin and my insides are moaning from the lack of release.

You’re already halfway there,he accused. He was part right, part wrong. It’s only day three—we still have a long way to go.

But my body’s made a leap.

The rest of me wants so badly to follow.

22

SASHA

The spa door slams behind me. I don’t look back. Don’t slow down. Don’t let myself think about the way her skin warmed under my palms or the fucking sound she made when my fingers passed so close to the cleft where her thigh met her hip. Sharp, short, and sweet, like a bullet to the gut.

Emil is going deeper into the bathhouse, but I’m headed in a different direction. “Sir?” he calls after me. “The plunge pools are this?—”

“I won’t be joining,” I bark at him over my shoulder. “Tell Ms. Ward to stay as long as she pleases. Or not. I don’t really give a fuck.”

Then I’m gone, pushing through the doors. The valet scrambles to bring my car. His face is pale as he tosses me the keys and gets the hell out of my way. I peel out of the lot, tires screeching.

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