Page 10 of Wrath
He held his breath, slowed his heart and listened.
Seconds ticked by.
Then a woman’s moan hit his ears and everything went on red alert.
What the actual fuck?
A shuffle. Something dropped.
“Where’s the goddamn light?” she hissed through the dark.
Wyatt tensed. Either he was having a weird dream, or there was a woman in the room with him. Two thunks reverberated on the cheap floating floorboards. Boots? Sliding and scuffling followed. Why would a female be searching his room, and—another soft thud as something fell to the floor—Christ, she was getting undressed!
Who would be getting undressed? Must be the daughter who used to live there.Therebeing the semi-detached apartment above their suburban home garage. It was only one room, a bathroom and a tiny kitchenette. One bed. Sliding doors opened onto the garage roof that doubled as a balcony with external steps leading down to ground level.
It had to be her. What was her name, again?
Movement as his bed dipped and another moan, as though she wasn’t feeling too good.
He swallowed, mouth dry.
“Ahh,” she sighed, landing ungracefully, face first onto the pillow beside him, sending a waft of feminine perfume and alcohol into his lungs. “Home at last.”
She’s drunk.
Her hand arced out, perhaps to stroke the sheet beside her, but hit his ribs instead. She patted around to test the odd shape her bed had taken. Her soft palm hit his face, his hair… down his naked chest. Wyatt winced and froze, holding his breath as if it would turn him invisible.
What should he say? He couldn’t say anything! He couldn’t speak.
She was going to freak.
But she didn’t. She made an appreciative sound while her hand headed south, bumping low over the ridges of his abdomen, slick with sweat.
An electric shock sparked between them and they both jackknifed up.
Fifteen years of martial arts and combat training had him springing to land deftly on his feet, while she stumbled and grabbed her head with a pained groan.
“Stop spinning, room,” she muttered.
He turned his side-lamp on but, when his thumb went to depress the switch, he pushed right through it. The damned thing crumbled in his hand like a cookie.Shit.
She switched her lamp on and the room illuminated.
Wyatt lost all train of thought as his eyes locked onto her body—pure, lush feminine curves, toned in all the right places—naked except for a dark crop-top and panties. It was the kind of body men would give their left nut to see in the flesh. Blond hair stuck up in a disarray of curls around her head. Wide blue eyes blinked but, where he expected fear, he found desire burning back at him.
Aw, hell no.
He scrambled back, hands out, and shook his head. He wanted none of this. No fucking way. He didn’t care how cute she looked, or how many of his atoms were clambering to touch and taste her like—he shook his head to dispel his derailing thoughts. What the hell was wrong with him?No.
“I like this dream,” she purred and seductively crawled over the mattress toward him.
He refused to speak, and she made a girly growl of appreciation that shot straight to his groin like an aphrodisiac. He thickened immediately, and she noticed. She licked her lips, eyeing him at the crotch. When he didn’t move, she glanced up, confused. “You’re so quiet… like akoteczek.Come to Misksha…” She couldn’t say that last word properly and repeated it a few times, then she broke out laughing. “Miscop. Mishko. Mizzzz.” She giggled again. “I’ll get it right at some point.Koteczek,come to Misha.”
She tripped over her knees, collapsed and rolled off the bed, calling out for herkoteczekto come out and play. He didn’t know what the fuck she rambled about, only that he’d better take control of the situation. The last thing he needed was for her father to think he took advantage of her, especially when they were already disagreeing about most other things.
He should kick her drunk ass out. Surely there was room for her at the main house. It would teach her a lesson for turning up unannounced. But Vooyek would be pissed. He was a good man. Alek was a good kid. In fact, the entire family was decent, even that chatty older sister. He shouldn’t give a shit about the way they ran the restaurant. He should just fix Betty and get the hell out of there, but he couldn’t help inserting his expertize, especially when it came to meal prep. For Christ’s sake, they used instant potato in their kopitka. There was no way in hell, he’d serve that in his restaurant. He’d skin any chef alive if they tried that shit with him.Seriously, fucking Betty Crocker instant potatoes. If it was his—
It’s not your restaurant,an insidious voice clipped from the back of his mind.You’re only there to earn enough dough to fix Betty, and then you’re out.
