Page 26 of Devotion

But Fyo’s our best trainer and fighter. He also has a temper that Ciro and I have been fueling for too long.

I should have realized this was coming.

“Look. We can bring this up with Pyotr later, see what he thinks, alright?”

“You already brought it up, if you know what I mean.” He grinds into my front, his erection pressing through the front of his tight pants. His lips inch closer to mine, and I’m ready to bite down hard when a cheery voice echoes in the hallway.

“Oh there you are, I was just looking for the two of you!” Ciro kicks the door open a little too hard, slamming it against the shelves, making a ruckus.

Fyodor wheels away from me immediately, startled and flustered.

And pissed off.

“Fuck off, pleb! Can’t you see we are in the middle of something?” Clenched fists at his sides punctuate the threat in his voice.

“I wanna play assault in the closet too!” Ciro snickers. The glimmer of anger in his eyes offsets the smile stretched across his lips.

“Do not test me, fuckerfacer. One of these days I will find you alone and have you all to myself. Then you will see how you like it, Diamante.”

“Oh, Fyo, are you saying that you wanna have your way with me? At least buy me dinner first.”

“That…is not what I meant!”

“Feels a little Freudian in here, huh? Or should I say Fyo-reudian? Oof, that was bad, but I can see your boner.” He points down, snorting derogatorily.

“Shut your fucking mouth!”

“No. You need to shut yours,” I shout, storming toward Fyo, shoving him off balance and out into the hall. The two guards at the back door turn to look and he balks, like he got caught. “Try this again, anything like it, and I will cut your testicles off and feed them to you in your sleep, Fyodor Morozova.”

“This is not done,” he growls, stomping off down the hall and out the back door.

A long, shuddering sigh escapes my lips, easing some of the fury clenched in my chest. Leaving only the tension of how achingly close Ciro is standing to me.

So I stomp off in the opposite direction, rushing into one of the unoccupied rooms we use for storage. The door clicks shut behind me and I know he followed.

Not that I didn’t want him to.

No. I didn’t.

Fuck! Why is he…

Rounding on Ciro, I stab a finger to his chest, backing him against the door.

“What gives you the right to interfere with my life? Messing with Fyodor out there is one thing, but you have no business stepping in between us. It only makes it worse!”

“I was diffusing the situation…er, trying to.”

“No. You were being just as much a dickhead as him, trying to assert some claim. Quit trying to piss on me.”

“What?”

“Like you and Fyodor having pissing contest, but also trying to mark me as your territory,” I fumble, flustered to be so close to him and frustrated with trying to express my anger in English. In the next breath I rattle off a series of curses in Russian, telling him off smoothly.

He seems to get the gist of it.

“Mixed metaphors aside,” he chuckles, raising his hands in defense, “I do push too hard with him. I can’t help it. Especially when he?—”

He always does this, getting me fucking worked up. Pissed off. Turned on. More pissed off at how turned on I am.

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