Jesus. How did he manage to do that? One second, I was absolutely determined to remain steadfast. The next second, I’m singing like a bird.
“Kotyonok, there’s no amount of insurance in the whole fucking world that can keep me at bay.”
He’s managed to get even closer to me. He’s so broad that he wipes out everything else. I could be anywhere in the universe and it wouldn’t matter, because all I can see and smell and feel is him.
“I’m not scared of you,” I whisper.
“But you’re scared of something. What is it, Jessa?” He inches closer. “Scared you’ll make the same mistake twice?”
I thrust my chin up towards him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You want me to tell you?” he asks with raised eyebrows. Then he shakes his head. “No, no. I don’t want to make this too easy. The best games make you work for it.”
He traps me between his arms and the kitchen counter. His scent is so strong, a cologne I’ve never smelled before, uniquely him and uniquely dark and uniquely powerful.
“Just so you know, if anything happens to me, you’ll never find your phone,” I tell him. “And… and the cops will know who to come after.”
“Sounds to me like you’re lying, Jessa. I bet you think you’re being brave. Like you need to protect whichever unlucky soul you decided to involve in this.”
“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” I say—which, even as it crosses my lips, feels like the biggest, dumbest lie in the history of fibbing.
“Then that makes us even.” His eyes lower to my chest, but his gaze doesn’t linger there. “Tell me where you’ve hidden it and this whole messy business comes to a close.”
“You really expect me to believe that?”
“I think it’s in your best interests to believe whatever I tell you.”
“Yeah, I did that once,” I remind him. “With a man I promised to marry. Fool me once, shame on you, et cetera.”
“I’m a different sort of man, Jessa. You don’t want to stand in my way.”
“Why?” I demand. “Because you’ll kill me if I do?”
He doesn’t exactly jump to refute that point. Instead, he leans in a little. His hands grip my hips. Leaning forward, he brushes his lips against my ear and whispers, “Worse. I’ll keep coming back.”
I frown, but when his hands snake downwards, following the curve of my legs, I can’t stop a little gasp from escaping my lips.
“I’m starting to wonder if this is the very reason you took my phone in the first place,” he observes. “Because you wanted to make sure I would come searching for you.”
“Who’s to say it’s not the other way around?”
He looks amused with my theory. “Kotyonok, do you think I need an excuse to do anything? When I see something I want, I reach out and take it.”
I put my hands on his chest and try to push him away. It’s about as effective as doing the same thing to a mountain. “You’re not taking me.”
“I think you’re forgetting,” he murmurs, his hand sliding up between my breasts. “I already did.”
I bite my lip as a heated blush steals over my cheeks. “You think because we had sex, that means somehow you own me? It doesn’t. Not even a little bit. Did I want you in that moment? Yeah, sure. But that doesn’t mean I want you forever. No matter how strong or powerful or handsome you think you are.”
I’m all fire and brimstone—at least, it feels that way—but Anton just smirks and chuckles. “If that’s how you insult me, you should do it more often.”
I try to push him away again. Somehow, it’s even less effective than the first attempt.
“You know why you took my phone, Jessa?” he asks. “Because deep down, you like the excitement of it. You crave danger. You knew what you were doing when you took it. You knew what you were inviting in. And you did it anyway.”
“I wanted to be smart.”
“No,” he says, cutting me off. “You wanted to make an impression.”