I roll my eyes. "It's very orderly. Bet yo uget off on color-coding your bullets, huh?"
He doesn't answer, just step back so I can get out. My legs feel like jelly, and I'm not sure if it's leftover adrenaline or just being around him.
That's when I spot it. Tucked in the corner, there's a workbench covered in… model cars.
What the actual fuck?
I move closer, curiosity getting the better of me. They’re everywhere—little plastic kits in various stages of being built.Some look like kids’ toys, others are fancy as hell with tiny engines and shit.
I turn to D, unable to keep the surprise off my face. “These yours?”
For a split second, he looks almost embarrassed. It’s so unexpected I feel a little dizzy.
“Everyone needs a hobby,” he grunts.
I look back at the models, not sure what to think. It’s weirdly… sweet? Definitely not what I expected from Mr. Anger, Dangerous, andSexy.
“Huh,” is all I can manage.
He clears his throat. “House is this way.”
I follow D out of the garage, the cool night air hitting my skin like a slap. The fucking sequins under my jeans itch like crazy, a glittery reminder of how close I came to being some psycho’s play thing tonight.
“Hey, what about my clothes? I can’t exactly prance around in stripper gear all night.”
D doesn’t even look back, just grunts, “I’ll find you something.”
Great. I’ll probably end up swimming in one of hisshirts. The thought sends an unexpected jolt of heat straight to my core.
Fuck.
As we walk, a house comes into view. It’s not the Bond villain lair I was expecting, but a modest two-story joint. Wooden siding,a porch with a swing. It looks… normal. Almost cozy. Who knew the big bad Russian had a soft spot for Americana?
“Where the hell are we?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.
“Safe,” he replies, cryptic as ever. His jaw is set, eyes scanning the perimeter like he’s expecting trouble to pop out from behind a tree.
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, but safe where? We drove for a long time, Dimitri. You planning on keeping me prisoner in your little love shack?”
He stops so suddenly that I almost crash into his back. His head tilts up, and I follow his gaze. Holy shit. I’ve never seen stars like this, not with all the city’s light pollution. They’re everywhere, like someone spilled glitter across black velvet.
“Upstate,” D says finally, his voice softer than I’ve ever heard it. “No one knows about this place.” His hand twitches at his side, like he wants to reach out but is holding himself back.
I turn to look at him, and my breath catches. The starlight softens his hard edges, making him look almost… human. He’s close, so close I can feel the heat radiating off his body. His scent—gunpowder,expensive cologne, and something heady—fills my lungs, making me dizzy.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, not sure if I’m talking about the stars or him.
His eyes meet mine, and suddenly, the world narrows to just us. The air sizzles with tension, with possibility.
D moves first, his calloused hand cupping my face. His thumb traces my bottom lip, rough skin catching on the soft flesh. I can’t help the small gasp that escapes.
“Wren,” he growls, and it’s a question and a warning all in one.
Fuck it.
I answer by closing the distance between us, pressing my lips to his. For a moment, he’s still as stone, and I worry I’ve royally fucked up. Then he growls—actuallygrowls—and takes control.
His kiss isn’t gentle or sweet. It’s hungry, demanding, like he’s trying to devour me whole. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, and I moan, pressing closer. I can feel the vibration of his answering groan in his chest.
