“Chyort voz’mi,” he cursed in his father’s tongue. Then caught H-girl’s hand when she attempted to pull down his zipper.
“What’s wrong, babe?” she asked, her red lipstick mouth forming a confused pout.
“I am no longer interested in this.” He could not be bothered to soften his natural tone as Uncle Alexei had advised before Yom came to American university. “You can go.”
“I cango?”
She was up for anything, apparently, except being dismissed. The sorority girl’s sexy bombshell expression darkened with anger. It was likely the first genuine emotion she’d shown him since they met, Yom guessed. Unlike Lydia, whose nervousness had flickered across her face like a neon sign in Berlin.
Though, that hadn’t been real, either, had it?
How had she managed to deceive him so thoroughly?
“What are you? Like, gay?”
The sorority girl was back on her feet now, teetering on the high heels she’d never taken off as she reached for her discarded bra and tank top.
“I wish,” he answered, thinking jealously of one of his favorite cousins, Spidey, who never appeared to have any turmoil in his romantic life, despite being an internationally ranked gymnast who openly preferred men.
“You wish,” the sorority girl repeated. “Like, you’d rather get with a guy than me?”
Tears welled in her eyes.
But unlike this morning with Lydia, Yom remained unmoved. Her tears didn’t create strange cracks in his chest like Lydia’s had.
“You are pretty enough girl. Go find someone else to fuck you tonight,” he instructed, the same as he would a dog to go back to its spot.
“You’re a fucking asshole, do you know that?”
“Da, I am already knowing this,” he assured her. Before reminding her, “And you signed NDA. Talk about what is happening in this room to anyone else, and there will be consequences.”
“Are you threatening me? Oh my God…” Her face flickered with realization. “Is this how things went down with Restraining Order? Is that why you made sure to trash her reputation—because you knew there was nothing she could do to fight back?”
That accusation hit too close to home.
“Go!” His cold voice took on a vicious edge. “Go before I am telling my hockey teammates to throw you from my home like trash.”
Her bottom lip trembled. “You wouldn’t dare.”
He stood up, letting his ice-cold glare speak for him.
She must have heard his answer clearly. She ran from the room, slamming the door behind her.
Leaving Yom alone to… to… sink back down on the couch, feeling like a defeated moron.
He hadn’t been able to raise his cock for someone who actually wanted to be with him. Simply because she wasn’t the girl who’d offered to fuck him just to make him leave her alone.
What was wrong with him?
Perhaps Lydia hadn’t been incorrect about him being some kind of crazy person—he could only assume that was what sociopath meant.
This was supposed to be his focus—winning championships, cementing his legacy. His final college hockey season only had about a month left before the Big Ten, followed by the USCA Championship that would etch his name into both American and Russian history books. He needed to focus….
Instead, here he was. Pathetic. Weak. Sick with lust for a girl that had turned out to be a lie.
Setting the baijiu aside, Yom laid back on the couch, pulling down the zipper he had stopped the H-sorority girl from undoing.Just once more. Perhaps it will work this time.
Lydia.
