Page 170 of Dirty Grovel

It seems she still doesn’t understand:Sheis my power.

“I-I can’t swim anymore,” she sighs. “I’m t-t-too t-tired.”

“Three more strokes, princess,” I promise her. “Three more strokes and you won’t have to swim any longer.”

She nods slowly and I guide her past the debris, to the largest, most solid piece of floating hull I can find.

“Come on. Up you get.”

I have to push with all my might to get her up onto the waterlogged piece of metal that looks like it might have belonged to the boat’s stern. The moment she’s up there, I push the little island out from underneath the boat’s carcass.

My body is aching by the time we’ve put some distance between us and the smoking remains of our boat. I could close my eyes and sleep for hours.

But all I have to do is look at Sutton to get the boost of strength and resolve that I need.

The only thing that matters to me right now is keeping her alive.

“O-Oleg,” she whispers, her face resting on her hands. “What happened? Is it the Martineks?”

“It’s very likely.”

She shudders. “Well, they failed. We’re not dead.”

“No, we certainly aren’t. It’s going to be okay. I’ve got you. This is not the end of our story, Sutton Palmer.”

She clutches my hand, but her fingers are weak. They can barely keep a firm grip. “You’re my hero, Oleg Pavlov.”

For the first time in my life, I feel like one.

54

OLEG

It’s funny how tragedy and comedy can exist side by side. How lust and love are two sides of the same coin.

Because I’m staring down at Sutton’s sleeping, naked body, wriggled and wrangled up in my bedsheets, and the thoughtI love heris flowing through my head right alongside thoughts of just how badly I want to be inside of her.

She’s beautiful.

Soft, glowing skin. Sun-kissed, smooth. Hair draped like a curtain separating me from everything I thought I never deserved.

And she’s sexy.

The peak of her nipple where it’s bared just above the edge of the duvet. The tempting crease of her thigh.

It’ll never fail to make me laugh and shake my head, how one woman can stir up so much in me.

How it’s possible to fuck the mother of my child and the love of my life like a slut in one minute and then cuddle her to my chest as if she’s the most precious thing that’s ever graced the face of the earth just a few seconds later.

It’s funny, too, how she can breathe and sigh in her sleep like a gentle lamb…

… then snort and snore like one of Snow White’s dwarves.

Despite my better judgement, I lean in and cup a hand to her ass as I run my lips along her exposed spine. She stirs but doesn’t wake.

Warmth radiates from her.

But despite that, all I have to do is close my eyes and see the way she shivered the day the rescue team plucked us from the ocean. She was so cold that her lips cracked and her skin turned blue.

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