Page 58 of Thorns of Lust
“Running?” Konstantin’s voice came from behind me. My heart thumped to an odd beat, sending a shiver through me. I didn’t like this reaction to him. I’d like to convince myself it was fear, but I knew it’d be a lie.
My steps halted, Yan holding the door and looking straight ahead. If I was smart, I’d get into the car and ask Yan to slam the door so I wouldn’t have to hear another word from the Konstantin devil. But I never claimed to be, so I turned around. Slowly. Maybe even sensually.
“I never run. Do you?”
I could feel his heat. I could smell that scent that became my aphrodisiac from my first sexual experience. During all my years in college I experimented with my sexuality. A lot. But contrary to everyone’s belief, I held onto my virginity. Until that night with Adrian in the gazebo. That night, the inexperienced virgin became the experienced woman.
“I never run,” Konstantin responded in that deep voice.
He closed the space between us. My breasts brushed his chest and heat, unlike any before, shot straight to my core. A soft gasp parted my lips and his hand curled around my nape, grabbing a fistful of hair. He closed the distance, his lips hot on mine. My stomach dove, stealing my breath. His tongue swept over my bottom lip as butterflies erupted in my lower belly, then spread fire through my veins.
Addicting.It felt so goddamn addictive.
His tongue brushed against mine and a rough sound vibrated deep in his chest. My ears buzzed. My blood seared.
Then he bit my lip hard enough I yelped. I fell back a step, staring at him in confusion while my bottom lip tingled like he branded me.
“This is not a goodbye, Tatiana Nikolaev.” His voice was soft, like black velvet, set to catch me with his hooks.
His twin brother I could probably handle. But this guy, definitely not.
He stepped away from me and suddenly, my lungs filled with air. I could finally get some oxygen into my brain. Just in time to realize what an idiot I was to play with someone as powerful as a Konstantin. This Konstantin. But I’d be damned if I’d stop.
Like a glutton for punishment, as I slid into the back seat of the Mercedes, my eyes darted to the tall dark figure.
“I really hope it’s a final goodbye,” I told him dryly, then offered a fake sweet smile. “For your sake. You seem a bit too obsessed with me. It’s not healthy.”
His gaze flickered with something akin to dry amusement, and I quickly pulled the door shut so I didn’t have to hear his reply.
* * *
The tension in Yan and Yuri was visible in their shoulders as they drove me to Sasha’s home. Damn Konstantin. This man was making me feel things I haven’t felt in so long, and I feared latching onto it. He overwhelmed every fiber of my being. He made me feel wanted unlike any other man, even Adrian before things went askew.
Jesus Christ!
I was a grieving widow. I couldn’t go around kissing well-dressed men. And this one was nothing like Adrian who preferred to wear jeans and combat boots. This guy was all suave and charismatic. Powerful. Dangerous.
In short, bad news.
Adrian was the man who I loved and missed. He was my life.
But he kept you in the dark, the corners of my mind whispered.About so many things.
“Not a word to anyone,” I warned my guards, ignoring the whispers in my head. They both nodded and I reached for the little flask sitting in the console. I gulped it down, this time it wasn’t vodka. It was a fruit flavored brandy. Instantly the alcohol slid into my blood and warmed me from the inside out.
I had somewhat reduced my alcohol consumption, but I still resorted to it. It was just to take the edge off.
Like now.
So technically, it was the damn Pakhan's fault.
By the time the car pulled up in front of Sasha’s home, I had one too many sips from my flask. Self-control wasn’t my strong suit and alcohol filled the hollow in my chest.
At least temporarily.
I entered Sasha’s home, the one he kept in the French Quarter, to find him in his office. Unlike Vasili who spent the majority of his time in the office, Sasha was rarely there. It meant he was strategizing how to fuck someone up. And I had a feeling I knew who.
“I hear Branka Russo is engaged.” The dark look he gave me was my confirmation, and I knew that Branka would never tie the knot with that man. He remained silent. “Do you want to know who the lucky guy is?”
