"Tonight," he said. "Come back tonight."
"I always do."
I slipped into the hallway, shoes in hand, and started toward the back stairs. The house was still dark, still quiet. I could make it to my room, shower…
"Morning."
I spun around.
Mikhail stood at the end of the hallway, coffee mug in hand, looking far too awake for 5:30 AM.
Shit.
"Morning," I said, trying for casual and probably failing miserably.
He studied me—the dress I'd worn yesterday, the bare feet, the general state of someone who'd just been thoroughly fucked.
"Rough night?" he asked.
"Something like that."
He took a sip of his coffee, and I waited for judgment. For condemnation. For him to tell me I was crossing a line.
Instead, he said, "He's happier."
I blinked. "What?"
"Olek. He's happier than I've seen him in a while." Mikhail leaned against the wall. "Smiles more. Doesn't brood as much. Actually, sleeps occasionally. That's because of you. I thought it was you that he was seeing, but I couldn’t be sure. Now I know."
My throat tightened. "I don't know."
"I'm not judging you, Katrina. Whatever's happening between you two, it's your business." He paused. "But I need to ask you something. Ineedto know something."
"Okay."
"Are you using him?"
The question hit like a punch to the gut.
"Because if you are," Mikhail continued, "if this is about money or status or whatever—you need to end it. Now. Before he gets in any deeper. If it’s about money, tell me how much it’llbe in order to have you end it and I’ll pay it. Because he doesn’t deserve to be hurt for financial gain."
"I'm not using him," I said quietly.
"Then what is this?" He scrunched his eyebrows, almost as if he was trying to figure out if I was telling him the truth or not.
I was being as honest as I could be. Olek came to me with this contract. A clear set of rules that we would follow for his gratification. He knew I needed the money, and I knew he wanted to fuck. It was an exchange, but suddenly I felt guilty. Olek satisfied me in so many ways, and now I was standing here trying to figure out if I was giving him enough. I indulged in every fantasy . Showed up when he wanted me, morning, middle of the day, night … I never said no. Never wanted to.
But was that enough?
What was this really? A contract? A transaction? The best mistake I'd ever made? How did it feel to him?
"It's complicated," I said finally.
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I have." I met his eyes. "But I'm not using him. I wouldn't—I'm not like that. Olek and I are very honest about what we’re doing. You can ask him."
Mikhail studied me for a long moment, then nodded. "Alright. I believe you."
