Page 68 of Sexting the Single Pakhan

The words hit like a spark straight to my core. Heat floods through me, making my thighs press together under the blanket. My breath catches.

He smirks as he reads every flicker across my face. “Get that look off your face. You’re not strong enough for what I want to do to you right now.”

I shift closer, pressing my body against his until I feel the thick, hard length of his morning wood trapped between us. I rock my hips just once. “Who says I’m not strong enough?”

He exhales sharply through his nose, then drops his hand from my jaw. “Nope. Not happening.” His voice is strained, but there’s a thread of amusement in it.

I groan in protest, flopping my head back against the pillow.

He laughs, shaking his head. “You’re trouble.”

I bite my lower lip, fighting a smile. “Thank you… for taking care of me.”

His expression softens instantly. The teasing fades, replaced by something raw. “I was scared when I found you like that.” He swallows, Adam’s apple working. “I don’t scare easily, Laurel.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

He leans in and kisses me, soft at first, then deeper, like he’s pouring everything he didn’t say into it. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine.

“Don’t scare me like that again. If you’re sick, if you need anything, anything at all, don’t hesitate to tell me. That’s why you have me.”

A small, wicked curve touches his lips. “Well… aside from giving you mind-blowing orgasms, of course.”

I laugh weakly, warmth blooming in my chest. “Thank you.”

He brushes a strand of hair from my face. “I need to get more food in you. How about some chicken noodle soup? I can heat up the one from last night.”

I shake my head.

“No?” He frowns, concern flickering. “Was it too spicy? Shit, I shouldn’t have used so much pepper. I—”

“You prepared it?” I interrupt, eyes widening.

“Yeah.” He shrugs like it’s nothing. “I used to make it for Igor when we were younger and he got sick.”

My throat tightens at the image of a younger Leonid, caring for his little brother. “You’re sweet,” I murmur.

He snorts, but there’s no real bite to it. “Don’t tell anyone.” He kisses my forehead, lingering.

I shift a little in his arms, the question that’s been hovering in my mind for a while now rising to the surface. I’ve seen his brother a couple of times at school, picking up Alexei. He looks exactly like Leonid. Same dark hair, same eyes, same build, just a few inches shorter.

“I take it that you two are close?”

Leonid’s chest rises on a slow breath. “Yeah, we are.”

I swallow, then ask the part I’ve only read about in passing, the part that made my heart ache when I first looked him up. He was barely a teenager.

“You two grew up without your parents, didn’t you? I… read about what happened.”

His whole body goes rigid beneath me. For a second I think he might not speak at all.

“Yeah,” he says finally, voice flat. “Robbery gone wrong at my parents’ convenience store. They didn’t make it.”

I press my palm to his chest, feeling the quick thud of his heart. “I’m so sorry. So you both grew up in foster homes?”

He exhales through his nose. “Yeah. Bounced around a bit. Igor and I stuck together as much as we could.”

Before I can ask any more questions, he sits up slowly, the sheet pooling at his waist, and rubs a hand over his face. “I’ll go make that breakfast now.”