Page 42 of Rough Exile

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“What do you mean?”

“He’s jealous about you, Ilya.”

He snorted, but his half-smile faded as he searched my face and realized I wasn’t joking.

“No. He is only worried Vas will blame him for not teaching me properly. He wants to make sure I don’t learn bad habits with women, so he wants to supervise us when we are together.”

“That’s what he keeps telling you, but if that was the only thing bothering him, why does he get so angry when I smile at you and laugh at your jokes?”

“Because he wants you for himself, Delilah. You can’t blame the man. I think it grates on him that when we go to visit my family, they will see you as mine and not his.”

I sighed. This was probably too big of a discussion to have in a lingerie boutique.

“Why don’t you practice taking command now? Show me what you’d like to see me wearing, the way you did when we were shopping for dresses.”

He cleared his throat. “This is different.”

“Not really. You’ve seen me naked, so what’s the big deal? These are just bits of cloth.”

His gaze drifted over to the displays and mannequins, lingering.

Bron approached us, gesturing to the selection. “Don’t you like any of these? The quality seems good.”

Aware of the fact the women were watching, I browsed through the underwear, feeling fabrics and taking stock of what they had available. Considering I usually bought my underwear in a pack of ten from a department store, it felt like I had far too many options here.

Eventually, the salespeople went back to work, chatting with each other in Russian and not paying us much attention.

“You’re almost as bad as he is,” Bron said, tsking. “Here.” He started handing me things, aware of what size I needed without me needing to tell him. Bras were trickier, and he asked me rather than guessing. If I hadn’t been measured by professionals on the Island, I would still be shopping for the wrong size.

“What are these for?” Ilya asked, looking at some less practical lingerie.

“They’re for women to wear so men want to fuck them.”

“They’re for unattractive women?”

“No,” Bron chuckled. “They’re for any woman.”

“Why does a woman need clothing like this to make a man want to fuck her?”

Bron dragged a hand down his face. “It’s like wrapping on a gift,” he finally said.

“Women put it on so men can rip it off?” His eyes glinted, and he looked at me speculatively.

The words drove a spike of arousal through me.

“If that’s what the man likes to do,” Bron conceded. “I think Delilah might like that, but usually it’s to make women look more beautiful.”

“They’re already too beautiful. Are they trying to blind a man with lust?”

“Maybe.”

“I can’t imagine her being more beautiful than she is when she’s naked and covered in dirt.” He shook his head in disbelief. “If I saw her in something like this, it would be the most exquisite torture.”

Laughing quietly, Bron perused the selection of lingerie and handed a succession of little hangers to Ilya, who looked at it all, mystified.

“I’m never going to wear all of this,” I complained. “You shouldn’t waste your money.”

“You think I’m too skupoy to buy nice things for my fiancée?” Ilya said almost haughtily, arching a brow at me.

Had I hurt his pride? It seemed wasteful, buying so much. “There are only so many things I can wear.”

“Bron says we can rip them off you,” he pointed out. “If we don’t buy much now, soon you’ll have none left.”

I swallowed at the earnestness of that declaration. I looked to Bron for help, but his grin was wolfish.

“He has a point.”

The total when the woman rang us through made her eyes go wide. If they got paid commission, the two of them could close early.

From there, they outfitted me with cosmetics that didn’t come from a drugstore, then brought me for a mani-pedi, then waxing.

After a nice dinner at the restaurant in our hotel, during which I realized both had good manners if they cared to use them, I was ready to fall into bed.

Bron had other plans. As soon as we got back to our room, he’d pulled out his phone and started texting someone. I almost fainted.

“You use your phone for more than getting directions?”

“Rarely.”

“Not as rarely as Ilya.”


Tags: Sorcha Black Crime