“Same.” He moved closer and I stepped back into the shadows between the railing and the olive tree.
“You probably shouldn’t be alone with me,” I said, my breath coming a little too quickly. “Won’t your handler have something to say about this?”
“I make my own choices.” He closed the gap and pressed me back against the wall. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that kiss.”
“Same,” I replied, my voice tiny. I looked up into his ice-blue eyes.
“My team might be panicking over it, but you were soft on me in that panel.” His breath smelled of alcohol but was hot on my face.
“Would you prefer it if I went hard?” I asked, all too aware of my choice of words.
A strange noise rumbled from his throat. Almost a growl. Well, damn. His body was pressed right against mine and I could feel just how hard he was. His left hand was planted on the wall beside my face, his right ran up my bare arm, sending a shiver up it. His fingers brushed across my shoulder and down my neck, skimming over the swell of my breast. My breath caught and my pulse raced.
“Elena.” He said my name as if he was testing it on his tongue.
“Aleks,” I whispered back. My eyes fluttered closed in anticipation of his lips. But he didn’t kiss me. His hand swept down my body, over my hip and down my thigh. He began gathering up the thin fabric of my dress. I gasped, the sound too loud in the quiet.
His other hand darted to cover my mouth. He pressed firmly and my eyes pinged open, fixing on his.
His right hand had found my skin and he ran it slowly upwards, under my dress.
I finally let my hands make contact with him, clutching his arm with one but my right hand seeking out the hard bulge in his pants.
Aleks’s wandering fingers found the edge of my lace underwear and my hand wrapped around his firm length. Oh man, this was jumping ahead fast and I couldn’t wait.
“Aleks?” A loud voice called out from the other end of the balcony, Ross’s voice.
My eyes went wide and I held my breath.
“Your room number?” He hissed before releasing my mouth.
“814,” I whispered back.
Aleks pulled away from me with lightning reflexes, leaving me cold against the wall.
“What?” He snapped, stepping into the pool of light.
“Don’t take that tone with me,” Ross snapped back. “The reigning champion’s presence is required. Come on, no more hiding.”
Aleks cast me the tiniest glance, careful not to give me away, hidden there out of sight. He walked away and my heart sank.
I smoothed my dress, straightened my spine, and stared into the city lights—half turned on, half torn open, and entirely unsure what came next.
I left the event with my swag bag but a little less dignity, and got a cab back to the hotel. I paced the room. Drank a bottle of wine from the mini bar. Paced some more. Peered out through the peep-hole for the tenth time. An hour passed. Then two. I fought back the frustration, trying not to feel like I’d just been fucked and ghosted by a man who hadn’t even taken off my clothes.
I changed into my shorts and cami pyjama set and washed my face. I was just about to hit the light switch when a soft knock on my door halted me in my tracks. I gathered myself, ran to it and flung it wide.
Aleksandr Volkov
Resentment seethed beneath my designer suit as Ross paraded me around the ballroom. I shook hands, took photos, did my duty. But my mind was a mile away, nestled between Elena’s thighs.
I was handed drinks, but didn’t touch them. They asked questions I had no answers for. Honestly, it was a shit show, but at least people were used to me being a man of few words. Ross didn’t seem to notice much of a difference from my normal behaviour at these events.
But I couldn’t get away. It was an endless night and every passing minute increased my frustration and guilt. I’d left her with an implied expectation of more. I didn’t want to disappoint her.
After checking my watch for the fiftieth time, a firm hand took my arm and guided me away from a group of sponsor executives. Mac’s cool, calm voice was a balm.
“Get out of here while you still can, lad. I need your head settled for qualifying tomorrow, so go a few rounds with a punchin’ bag or somethin’. I’ll see you at ten sharp. Got it?”
