I don’t bother turning around while I sigh and take my shoes off. “And you can’t handle silence.”
“I can take a lot of things…but not the way you look tonight,” he says, taking a subtle step closer before gently putting a hand on my waist and turning me around to face him. His eyes nearly burn into mine with want. “You wore that dress to torment me, didn’t you?”
“You wanted me to wear something nice,” I tell him, lifting a brow. “But what if I did?”
Sergey pulls in a slow, deep breath as if to calm himself. “Do you know what that does to me, Katya?”
Something about my name in his mouth sends a shiver down my spine. I hate how easily it affects me.
Closing the distance, his hands settle on my hips while his body grazes mine, and his lips lower to my ear. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for weeks…you haunt me. And seeing you in something like this makes me feel like I’m about to lose my mind.”
Something in me shivers at his words and the raw honesty in them, wanting to melt further and just give in.
But as his hand slides to my back and down to the curve of my ass, the rational part of my brain snaps back into place. I put a hand against his chest to maintain some space.
“Don’t.”
He pulls back enough to look at me, and a hint of confusion lingers in his green eyes. “Don’t what?”
“Do this,” I murmur, fighting that urge inside myself too.
Sergey takes another breath, seemingly prepared to back off before moving a little closer again, as if trying to get me to give in.
“You’re killing me,” he murmurs, words almost breathy like he can’t stand waiting another moment. His hand grazes my hip, looking like he’s ready to undo me completely. “Please, Kat…”
“No,” I tell him flatly, reaching for his hands to pull them off me. “I agreed to dinner. I didn’t say I’d act like your obedient wife once we got home, too.”
Sergey’s expression falters as he flinches just enough for me to catch, but I see it. The words hit a bit harder than I anticipated.
I suck in a breath and try to remind myself that I need to stand my ground. I need to advocate for myself even while I’m at war with my own desires.
“That night…it never should’ve happened. It was a mistake.”
His jaw clenches, carefully adjusting my hold on him to take my hands in his. He studies my expression closely. “You don’t mean that.”
I don’t hesitate. “I do.”
Sergey moves back, running a hand through his hair while pacing a few feet like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He doesn’t say anything for a long, drawn-out moment,and when he finally looks at me again, the hunger is still there, but it has dulled enough to be more restrained than before. On the surface, what looks like hurt remains.
I’m not one to revel in causing anyone to feel that way, and it takes incredible resolve to ignore the slight twist of guilt in my stomach.
I never asked to be here, and I never asked for any of this.
Regardless of what we shared that night or how incredible it was, I can’t let myself forget all the rest.
“Fine, no touching,” Sergey says with an attempt at resolve while he takes a breath, saying the words like they physically hurt to get out. “But you’re not sleeping in the spare room.”
My brows pinch together. “Excuse me?”
He’s already heading down the hall toward the staircase when he calls back to me, “You’ll sleep in the master with me. Sex or not.”
I stay in place, fighting against the subtle heat that moves through me at the mere mention of it. “You can’t be serious.”
Sergey stops at the bottom of the steps and glances over his shoulder at me. “I’m dead serious.”
I want to try and call his bluff, but I can tell from his tone that he genuinely means it, as if sleeping elsewhere would be the final nail in the coffin for him.
Weighing my options, I stand there a moment longer. I could fight him on it. I could shout at him, threaten him, or even sleep on the floor if I really want to. But regardless of how stubborn I am, he can be even worse at times.
