“You’ve had enough.”
She laughs once and braces her hands on the counter. “You think I invited you up here to discuss my drinking habits?”
I set the bottle down out of reach. “I think you invited me up here because you’re furious and scared and trying not to feel either.”
She lifts her chin. “At least you’re done with half-answers.”
“Do you want some water?”
“I want one hour.” She raises her index finger in the air as she adds, “I want one hour where my brain shuts up.”
“Polina… I don’t know if?—”
She steps into me and grabs my shirt. “You’re right, okay? I’m furious with you. I’m terrified. I want to throw things at your head again, and I also want you to put your hands on me until I stop thinking. I am not in the mood for a speech, Lev.”
The force of that confession knocks me back.
I catch her wrists gently and look at her face, not her mouth. If I look at her mouth, I am done.
“You’ve been drinking.”
“I know.”
“You’re angry.”
“No shit.”
“Look at me.” I wait until she does. “If I touch you tonight, it is because you want me to. Not because you’re too drunk to decide.”
She stares at me for a second, then jerks one hand free and shoves me.
“Don’t do that,” she snaps. “Don’t stand there and act noble after everything else. I know what I’m asking for.”
She reaches for me again, drags me down by the front of my shirt, and kisses me before I can answer.
She bites my lower lip hard enough to make me curse into her mouth, and I grab her waist before she can lose balance. The taste of vodka hits first, then anger, then the desperate edge under both that wrecks me.
I should slow this down, but God help me, I can’t.
I slide my hands under her shirt and over warm skin, and she makes a broken sound that goes straight to my cock.
She breaks the kiss just long enough to say, “Bedroom. Now. And just so we’re clear, I’m the one running this.”
I don’t argue as I catch the back of her thighs and lift. She wraps her legs around me on instinct, and I carry her down the short hall while she kisses my mouth, my jaw, my throat, all teeth and tongue and no patience.
She grabs my hair and pulls my head back. “If you say one careful thing, I swear to God?—”
I toss her onto the bed before she finishes.
The mattress bounces. She props herself up on her elbows, her eyes bright and wild, and drags her tank top over her head. Her naked breasts spill free, and she watches me watch her with fury and challenge written all over her face.
“Don’t stand there,” she says. “Do something.”
I strip my belt free in one pull and let the leather slide through the loops with a snap.
That gets her attention.
Her eyes drop to my hands, then slide back to my face. “You think you’re in charge?”
