Page 153 of Dirty Damage

“I’m not good at this, Sutton. At… letting people in. I can’t promise I won’t fuck up again,” he says roughly. His thumb traces my bottom lip. “But I want to try. With you.”

“I’m not good at this, either.” I press my forehead to his, breathing him in. “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”

“Maybe that’s why this works.” His lips brush mine, so faint it’s almost unreal. “We recognize the damage in each other.”

The kiss deepens, and I let myself melt into it, into him.

For now, right here, there are no contracts or obligations. No family legacies or corporate takeovers.

Just us.

Two broken pieces.

One whole thing.

The morning sun glints off the boats in the marina and glares off the pavement. After three days alone on the open water, being back on dry land almost feels claustrophobic.

Oleg and I should’ve had more than enough of each other on the yacht, but he pulls me against his chest and my body responds instantly. I arch against him, hands fisting in the warm fabric of his t-shirt.

“I’ll come with you.” His voice is gruff, possessive.

“You can’t leave your car here.”

“Fine. Then you come with me.”

I laugh and press a kiss to his jaw. “I can’t leave my car here, either. We’ll see each other in ten minutes.”

He growls, making his displeasure known. “Too long.”

My insides are in a twist. Every second in his arms makes it harder and harder for me to keep this relationship in its proper place. I want him so badly I’d let him take me right here on the asphalt…

… which is exactly why I need ten minutes to myself. I need to breathe and get my feet back on solid ground.

Literally.

“I need to make a grocery run. We have nothing to eat at the penthouse.”

“Who needs food when I have you?”

His fingers tangle in my hair, tilting my face up for a deep kiss. When he finally releases me, I’m breathless.

“Twenty minutes, tops,” I gasp, sliding away from him.

He looks like he might toss me over his shoulder and carry me with him. Instead, his eyes narrow as if in warning.

“Drive safe.”

I smile and get behind the wheel, watching him stride towards his car in the rearview mirror. My body still hums from his touch as I turn out of the lot.

It feels good being alone. No Uri shadowing my every move. No security detail tracking my location.

Just me, running a simple, normal errand like a simple, normal person.

I’m driving past Pavlov Industries when a Ford Mustang peels out of the executive lot.

I slow down just a tad as it sails past me. Enough to see…

Oh, fuck.The sight of white-blonde hair sends tendrils of dread racing up and down my spine.

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