“Huh, I think that’s the first time I’ve ever been told I’m a reflex instead of hot.” She chuckles, unoffended, slowly turning away and walking back into the bathroom. She stops in the doorway, glancing over her shoulder at me. “You keep lying to yourself a little longer, Goliath, but we both know we’re not going to be able to hold out on this forever. Attraction is a bitch.”
I barely contain the groan that’s building in my chest as she shuts the door. I’m itching to follow her. To taste every inch of her and feel her against me. To feel her walls wrapped around my cock, squeezing every last drop out of my balls.
I grip my cock tight, trying to get myself under some semblance of control. How the hell am I supposed to survive this? I need to get the hell out of here, or I’m going to do something I’ll regret.
Like, walk into that shower and find out exactly how combustible our chemistry really is.
I look at Hades, who is still munching away on his ball, but his gaze moves to mine, and I swear to God that damn dog is laughing at me. “Fuck,” I mutter.
Turning, I stalk out of the bedroom. I really don’t need to do something stupid, no matter how tempting it is.
10
RORI
Comingface-to-face with a wolf has my heart melting, even though I’m careful to keep my expression cold and distant. Shit, it’s magnificent. Tall, gangly-legged, and pure black in color, it reminds me so much of Hades, even down to the gold chain around its neck as a collar. Those snarling teeth remind me of him, too, and I have to bite back a sad smile.
Damn it, I miss Hades. Though I don’t know that he would win against this animal if it were to attack. Something tells me that this wolf will tear anything apart the moment it’s allowed to have freedom.
A healthy amount of respect fills me. I don’t want to be on its list. The question is, does the wolf answer to all of the Romanovs and this man, or just the man?
I force my eyes away from the magnificent beast to focus on the man watching me with a cool and distant expression of his own. He’s an inch shorter than Ilya’s six-three frame, with lean muscle much like his charge, but he is covered head to toe in tattoos and has no facial hair, unlike the Romanov brothers. Hisface is far more angular and sharper, his eyes dark and sharp, taking everything in with a glance. On his tattooed hands are thick rings on each finger, and around his neck is a thick gold chain.
This man lives and breathes the Bratva. Everything about him tells me he is not someone who is easily manipulated.
“Did you get her?” Ilya snaps at the man, shoving his coat at a waiting butler impatiently.
The man gives a small shake of his head, his eyes never leaving me. I hold his stare, refusing to let him think I’m nervous. Confused, hell yes, but I’m long past fear.
Ilya lets out an angry snarl before turning to pin me with a cold, hard look. “We’re going to get this shit ironed out, and then I have business to attend to.”
“Sounds like you have a problem with a woman. And here I thought your charming personality would be enough to have them falling at your feet, Romanov.” I can’t help the sass that falls from my mouth, even as reckless as it is.
Ilya Romanov is a Pakhan, and he’s in his every right to punish me for it.
Zakhar snorts out a laugh. “Fuck, you’re going to be fun to have around. You remind me a little of?—”
“Don’t,” Ilya snaps, his eyes flashing with a dangerous fury that sets my nerves on edge.
Zakhar must realize that he’s stepped in it, because he shuts up quickly, glancing at the new man with a look I can’t quite decipher.
Huh. I wonder who the hell they’re talking about. Color me intrigued.
“As entertaining as this is, perhaps we can get back to why the hell you’ve brought me here.” I pour cool steel into my tone.
Before Ilya can respond, the new man demands in Russian, “This is the Chameleon? No fucking way.”
“No, she’s not, but she is the closest we have to getting the job done that we need and the closest thing to catching him. Now, where is our other guest?”
Other guest?
“He’s running late. He’ll be here shortly.”
Ilya’s face flashes with annoyance. He mutters something sharp and angry under his breath, but I can’t quite catch it. “Let’s go. We have shit to figure out and I don’t have all fucking day.” He stalks past the grand staircase leading to the second floor, heading down a hallway toward the back of the house.
Zakhar nudges me forward, and I shoot him a warning glare over my shoulder, which he ignores with an amused grin. I follow, my senses on high alert, braced for anything.
Especially with the wolf at my back, its chain collar rattling with each step to let me know where it is. The hallway is long, but we finally reach the end, where we find two double doors open and Ilya taking his place behind his desk.
