Page 88 of Sexting the Single Pakhan

Leonid closes the distance in three long strides, eyes scanning me head to toe like he’s checking for damage. His hand cups my cheek, gentle, but I feel the tension in his fingers.

“You alright?” he asks, voice low.

I nod. “Yeah. Just… shaken.”

He exhales through his nose, pulls me against his chest for a brief, hard hug, then opens the back door to the SUV.

“Get in.”

I do, and as the car starts moving, I turn to Leonid. My heart’s still racing from the club, adrenaline mixing with the vodka.

“You had me followed, didn’t you? That's why your men were able to get there when they did.”

He doesn’t answer right away. His eyes scan me. “Are you sure you're okay? Did that bastard hurt you?”

“No, Dmitri and Sergei arrived right on time." I cross my arms. “Did you have your men following me? Even after I asked you not to?”

He reaches for me, pulls me into his arms before I can pull away. His hold is tight, almost desperate. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he murmurs against my hair, voice rough.

I want to argue, but my head is suddenly so heavy, the world tilting like the floor’s dropped out from under me.

“This conversation isn’t over,” I mumble into his chest.

Then everything goes dark.

I wake up to a pounding headache, like someone’s driving nails into my temples. Sunlight filters through heavy curtains, and I’m in Leonid’s bed, his black sheets cool against my skin, wearing one of his soft T-shirts that smells like him.

There’s a glass of water and two aspirin on the nightstand. I sit up slowly, swallow the pills, and chug the water in one go.

I shuffle to the bathroom, empty my bladder, brush my teeth with the spare toothbrush that’s permanently here now, and tie my hair into a messy bun.

Staring at my reflection, eyes a little bloodshot, the events of last night slam back in: the club, the creeps, Leonid’s men appearing out of nowhere, the way that guy touched me…

I shiver at the thought of what could have happened if Leonid's men hadn't arrived when they did. Even though I'm pissed at him for going against his promise and still having me followed, I'm grateful they were there.

I head back to the bedroom and grab my phone from the charger. No texts from Leonid. That’s weird, he always leaves one if he’s gone before I wake. I dial Tasha.

She picks up on the third ring, groaning. “Hello?”

“Did I wake you?”

“Yeah.” Her voice is gravelly. “My head is banging. Yours?”

“Same.” I sink onto the edge of the bed. “Just checking on you. We’ll talk later?”

“Alright.”

I hang up, and head downstairs in search of him.

The house is quiet. I check Alexei’s room first; there's no sign of him or the nanny. I head to the kitchen and pour myself a cup of coffee from the pot; it’s still hot, so it was made recently. I take a sip, the taste grounding me a little, and call Leonid. Straight to voicemail.

I sip my coffee as I wander, past the living room, the study, the gym he showed me once. The house is huge; even after the tour, I still get turned around sometimes.

I’m halfway down a hallway I don’t remember when I spot a staircase leading down, narrow, almost hidden behind a heavy door that’s slightly ajar. I don’t recall this part at all.

Low grunts echo up from below, pained, guttural.

I freeze, coffee cup halfway to my lips. What the hell?