Page 35 of Sinful Promise

“Well, I have a few nasty scars and a tattoo on my chest and some on my arms. I can be an ass at times, but no woman’s ever complained about my performance.”

I expect her to bolt. Instead, she pulls a towel off the rack and hands it to me. I wonder when she’ll stop surprising me. I wipe the phone dry and toss it in my shoe temporarily. I need to keep her busy with bullshit until I can lock up her passport and the phone in the safe hidden in my closet.

“Would you like a shower? The faucets are tricky.”

She nods and slides out of her sneakers. She puts a hand on the vanity and peels off her socks. She unbuttons her blouse but keeps her eyes on me, as if she’s putting on a show.

This woman is a moving target when it comes to contradiction. One moment, she’s virginal and naïve, and the next, she’s bold, brazenly baring herself before me. What happened to the shy girl who changed her clothes while hiding under a wedding dress?

My breathing increases when she drops her top, unfastens her bra, and frees her voluptuous breasts. Her pink nipples immediately harden, and I try to resist the urge to nibble them.

She demurely unfastens her jeans and shimmies out of them, exposing her toned legs. I catch the enticing swivel of her hips and can’t wait to dip my fingers in her hard round butt cheeks. Stepping out of her jeans, she leaves them on the floor and stands in front of me, unabashed by her nakedness.

My cock goes up like a flag on a national holiday. She accesses my physique with curious eyes, and I’m doing the same to her. Her hair color is natural, matching the triangle between her thighs. She grabs a washcloth off the stand and enters the shower. Son of a bitch, she’s ballsy. I follow her, closing the door behind us.

“Shampoo.” I point to a unit on the wall. “Conditioner and body soap.” She steps to the other side of the shower and stands in the stream, wetting her body. She moves around so the jet hits her back. No doubt she’s stiff from the long trip.

I can’t look away. She’s facing me with her head tilted back, her eyes closed. Her breasts are ample white pillows beckoning me to caress them. I wonder if she would like my teeth to nip them. It usually heightens the intensity of a woman’s orgasm when it’s done at the peak of climax.

She opens her eyes just enough to catch me looking at her, then opens them the rest of the way and checks me out from head to toe. My cock twitches when her gaze lingers on my groin.

Fuck. I’d hate to scare her with my huge cock. I’m at a loss for words. Maybe there are no words. Do I make a move or wait? I decide to be patient and wait for the right moment. I can’t let her manipulate me into sex. I need to keep my distance until I figure out what I will do with her. Since we’re confined in close proximity for the foreseeable future, it’s easier if I don’t have a clingy woman following me around.

As difficult as it is, I tear myself away and rinse off again. I wait for her to finish before I turn off the faucets. I step out and grab the towel that I left on the floor. I walk to the stack on the wall and hand her another without making eye contact.

“Thank you,” she says as she begins to dry herself. I towel off quickly and wrap the large bath sheet around my waist.

“Let me get your back,” I suggest. She turns, and I take my time blotting the droplets off her delicate shoulders and back.

I shake my head in annoyance. I’m going soft. For Christ’s sake, I’m a mafia hitman. I’m not supposed to care about drying some woman’s back. She’s driving me crazy.

Seeing her naked is a vision I won’t soon forget. I could have easily kissed her in the shower. She gave me all the go-ahead signals, but I’m glad I didn’t take the bait. I can’t exactly send her back to Ratmim if she’s pregnant with my child.

This reminds me, I need to get her checked out by one of our doctors. It’s the one thing I insist my women do for me to prevent any accidents. Plus, I always use protection. I wouldn’t put it past a woman to intentionally get pregnant to trap me into marriage. In a nutshell, I trust no one except Alex and my family.

Dasha has flipped the switch from immodest, wrapping the bath towel around her gorgeous body. Her wet hair clings to her shoulders. Her toes are adorable as she curls them under my scrutiny.

She asks, “The clothes, are they for me?”

“No. They’re for me,” I say with a wink. She laughs. “Yes, they are yours to keep. I hope they fit. We’ll go shopping when we reach a port with stores.”

“It’s more than enough clothing,” she replies. I suspect she’s never owned more than two dresses, one to wear and one to wash. Most women have a closet full of shit and shoes to match. Dasha is not one of them.

“I will leave you to it. That sink area is yours. You’ll find everything you need, and if you don’t, let me know, and I’ll have it delivered.”

I shut the bathroom door behind me, take a deep breath, and focus on making my boner go down.

Hidden behind a cabinet in the closet is my safe. I open it and put my extra phone and our passports inside. I close the door and make sure it’s locked. I need to figure out a game plan. I text Alex to meet me at the pool bar.

I slide on a dry-fit T-shirt that hugs my biceps and run my fingers through my damp hair. I need to shave, but that can wait until tomorrow. I slip into fitted jeans and loafers before exiting my closet. I peek in Dasha’s closet and the bathroom, but she’s not there. Panic floods my brain until I find her peacefully sleeping in the bed.

I pause to gaze at her angelic face before leaving to meet up with Alex and Irina.

15

DASHA

Iwake up, and my first thought is of Roman. He’s on my mind more than I care to admit. It must be a crush because I have butterflies in my stomach every time he comes near. The man unnerves me, and not just because the chips are in his favor. He has the body of a man who’s genetically gifted in every area, and I mean every part. My lady parts yearn to be with him physically. I imagine his hands on my breasts and wonder what it feels like to have him fondle and kiss them. My nipples pebble at the thought.

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