I heard him open the shampoo bottle and his lean fingers were in my hair. His touch was incredibly gentle and my body relaxed slowly as he massaged the soap into my scalp. His fingers moved and started gently massaging the tight muscles along my spine.
“This weekend, I’d like to take you into Charleston. Get a nice hotel, wine and dine you,” he murmured. “Then I’ll give you a first time to remember.”
It sounded almost too good to be true. “What about birth control?” I asked hesitantly.
“I don’t mind wearing a condom,” he said.
“Really?”
“Yes, it’s not an issue,” he said, turning off the water. “Of course, I’d rather feel you raw, but I’m also not an idiot. Pulling out didn’t work for me once and I’m not stupid enough to try it again.”
He stepped out of the shower and I stood there, frowning as I turned over what he’d said. What did he mean by saying pulling out hadn’t worked for him? Did he already have a child with another woman?
I followed him out of the shower where he stood in front of the mirror, running his hands through his hair. He’d put on a pair of gray sweatpants and I couldn’t help but let my eyes trail over the slender plane of his stomach as it disappeared beneath his waistband. If I hadn’t been distracted by what he’d said, I would have slid my hand beneath his waistband.
“Enjoying the view?” he said.
I wrapped a towel around my breasts. “What did you mean by what you just said?”
“What did I say?”
“You said that pulling out hadn’t worked for you.”
He braced the heels of his hands on the sink. A quiet sigh escaped his mouth as he studied his reflection. “I should probably tell you about Yulia at some point. It’s not going to get easier, so now is as good a time as any.”
Chapter Eight
Viktor
Twenty minutes later, we sat across the kitchen counter from each other, the room drenched in a pregnant silence. Sienna cradled a cup of herbal tea that smelled faintly of cinnamon and I had a glass of vodka on ice. There was a plate of some kind of powdered lemon pastry between us, but neither of us had touched it.
“You’ve staked your claim on the house, I see,” I said lightly, looking around.
“Do you like it?” she asked.
“It’s nice. A little feminine for my tastes, but as long as you don’t touch my office, I’m fine with it.”
“I didn’t,” she assured me. “But maybe I should have. It’s like a sterile bachelor pad in there.”
“I like things clean and orderly.”
“I noticed.”
“Better that then the jars of marsh creatures you have all over the back porch. It’s starting to look like a laboratory out there.”
She narrowed her eyes, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Her slender fingers lifted the teacup to her lips and I let my eyes linger on her mouth. God, it had been soft and perfect when she’d wrapped it around my cock. Drawing me into her mouth, her soft tongue lapping against the underside.
Her expression changed as she looked down, biting her lower lip. “So, who is Yulia?”
A sharp wave of pain moved through my chest and I looked away, my eyes falling on the darkened window. In the distance I could see the crescent moon hanging over the marsh. It would fade soon and the sun would rise.
***
The world moved around me in a whirl of sound and color. I was newly nineteen and high on the euphoria of excess. Tonight would be just the same as all the other nights. I would drink, inhale lines of white powder until my jaw was so tight I bit my tongue, but it wouldn’t matter because I was too drunk to feel the pain.
I wandered down the hall, already inebriated although it was five-thirty on a Tuesday. From the living room came the faint sound of laughter and music. If I cocked my head on the other side of the door, I could just make out the sound of a woman moaning. Someone was probably doing something depraved to one of the prostitutes.
Lighting a cigarette, I pushed open the door. The lights were dim and several of my father’s higher ranking men were sprawled out over the couch, smoke swirling around their heads. My father sat in the leather armchair by the fire in his habitual black dress pants and button up shirt.