Page 81 of Dirty Damage

His deep chuckle makes me want to throw myself overboard. He takes a step toward me and I jump back like he’s brandishing a weapon instead of his anatomy.

“Don’t worry, princess. He doesn’t bite.”

I pinch my bottom lip between my teeth, desperately trying to keep my eyes above his waist.

And desperately failing.

“You sure? He looks ready to take a bite out of me.”

His cock twitches as if in agreement, swelling to attention.

Oleg doesn’t seem even remotely embarrassed. He just stands there smirking at me likeI’mthe one who’s naked.

“Your turn.”

The fact he’s this hard while I’m still fully clothed gives me a tiny spark of confidence. Which is the only reason I start taking my clothes off.

The sweater comes off first. Thank God I at least wore decent underwear. My lace bra is made for appreciating, because it doesn’t do anything else.

It doesn’t even cover my nipples—a quality Oleg seems to appreciate.

When I glance up at him, the hungry look in his eyes obliterates any lingering insecurity.

I may not be as polished as the women he usually dates, but right now, he wants me. That much is obvious.

I peel off my socks and my jeans, pausing when I’m in nothing but my tiny undergarments.

“Don’t quit on me now,” Oleg growls.

The rough, hungry sound of his voice is all the push I need. I feel his amber eyes on me as I unclasp my bra and slide my panties down my legs, but I don’t look at him.

I can’t.

I’ll combust.

Finally, I stand tall, completely exposed, my heart slamming so hard against my chest I’m sure he can hear it.

“My God.” His reverent tone sends pride coursing through me. He closes the distance between us, his gaze tracing fire down my body. “You are so damn beautiful.”

The wind whips my hair across my face. Before I can push it back, his fingers are there, tucking the strands behind my ear.

“Hm.” His thumb grazes my cheek. “You’re shaking.”

“I used to be terrified of deep water,” I whisper, desperate to distract myself from his intensity. “When I was little, before foster care, my mom took my sister and me to the lake. She got drunk and passed out in the sand. My sister was playing with some other, older kids, so I decided to wade in by myself.” I swallow hard. “Got caught in a current. Almost drowned. No one even noticed I was gone.”

His hand stills against my face. When I meet his eyes, they’re liquid with an emotion I can’t read. “How old were you?”

I don’t know why I’m saying this. I never talk about my past.

But right now, completely naked in the moonlight with Oleg Pavlov, I think I feel safe.

“Four. That’s actually why we ended up in foster care. Someone called CPS about my mom leaving us unsupervised at the lake. They investigated and found out we were living in her car.”

His thumb is still tracing patterns on my skin, making me shiver. “I bet your sister felt guilty. Like she should’ve protected you.”

Something I don’t understand flashes in his eyes, and I think about what Faye said.

Oleg has a past, too.

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