Page 39 of Lilies from Hell

“Just because I find you attractive doesn’t mean I like you. I want nothing to do with you. Perhaps we can try to be friends because I promised you and I always keep my promises, but nothing else.” I let the words come out on their own without really paying attention to what I’m saying. Not until I stop talking and notice the smile they are unsuccessfully trying to hide behind his lips.

Before I make a fool of myself even more than I already am, he receives a call and walks away, saying something in Russian. Chocolate doesn’t help, but I still take a bite of my Reese’s bar, a futile attempt to distract myself from the liquid on my inner thighs and my stupidity for staring at him.

The minutes I have to wait are torture. I hate waiting. His calm voice makes me wonder who the person on the other end is. His blonde, maybe-maybe-not girlfriend again? Well, if my boyfriend spent a Friday night away from home without telling me, I’d call him too. In fact, I think I would call him back home and cut his legs off so next time he wants to get out he’d need me.

His eyes move around my room, discovering for the first time what it looks like in daylight, until they stop on the red rose in the window with displeasure. Then he picks it up and, before throwing it in the bin, he crumples the petals, squeezing them in his hand. I open my mouth to complain, but before I can, he hangs up the call, looking at something on the wall, next to him. It’s a crucifix that my maternal aunt gave me.

She’s bloody religious. If it weren’t for her, my parents probably wouldn’t have baptized me. The crucifix was a gift from her. The idea of getting rid of it would cause serious problems for the family after the promise we had to make to her. So there it is now, hanging on the wall like any other painting. I frown when he takes it down and holds it out toward me.

“I’m not religious,” I say before he can open his mouth, rushing to answer his question.

“You are. Quite devout, in fact.”

“No.” He sighs wearily, the bed sinking under his weight, and runs the crucifix over my bare legs.

“You should use that lying mouth of yours for something else and not for talking nonsense.”

“And you should spend your time with your blonde girlfriend instead of cheating on her with someone who doesn’t even like you,” I mutter. Jealousy pouring out of my pores, even though I have no reason to feel this way. When he looks up at me with a sly smile, I feel like hanging myself from a tree.

“Are you jealous?” he asks, not wiping that stupid smile off his face.

“No. I have no reason to be,” I say, ignoring that knot in my stomach.

“Polina isn’t my girlfriend,” he retorts irritably, almost as if he’s reproaching me for something. “She’s a friend who works for me.”

I sigh, not really noticing. Not because I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders, but because I’m exhausted. It’s been a long day. Resting is more exhausting than people think.

“You know very well that it’s impossible for me to set my eyes on anyone but you.” The smile I try so hard to hide widens.

“No, I don’t.” I tilt my head, forcing myself to wipe that smile off my face. My answer seems to anger him, and I don’t know why that makes the cramps that were in my stomach before now be replaced by a strange tingling sensation.

“You know damn well.” He digs his fingers into my face, preventing me from looking away. Then he opens his mouth, as if he wants to add something else, but ends up giving up on the idea and walking away from me with his jaw clenched.

Then he resumes the movie with the crucifix still in his hands and starts playing with it. A strange gleam takes hold of his eyes. My stomach keeps doing somersaults and my heart keeps beating hard, making my chest hurt. I hate the way he affects me, but that’s what makes me want him more and between my legs.

He’s bad news. I tell myself, remembering what happened with Matt, and yet my mouth opens, blurting out a question I shouldn’t have asked.

“Why did you do that to Matt?” He looks at me sideways, frowning for a moment until he relaxes his face and shrugs his shoulders indifferently.

“I don’t know,” he replies with a hint of amusement behind his eyes, as if sharing a secret joke. “Why did you lie to me?” He fixes his blue eyes directly on mine. My throat goes dry and my lips part, wanting to defend myself against his more than accurate accusation.

“I wanted to help a friend.”

“Mm.” He tilts his head to one side to get a better view of my profile, grinning slightly. “You’re a liar, lyubov’. I should cut out your tongue.” Hearing that and remembering how Matt ended up makes my breath catch, and he seems to notice it as he stares boldly at my chest. When he places two fingers on my jugular, discovering my racing heartbeat, I jump a little in fright.

“Calm down, Lena. I was just kidding. I already told you I would never hurt you like that,” he says in a low murmur, running his fingers along the curve of my neck. I swallow hard before I can look him in the eye.

“How would you hurt me, then?” He runs his tongue over his lower lip and stares at my collarbone as if he wants to bite it off. I shouldn’t have asked that.

“Be careful with what you ask.” He returns his gaze to the movie, deciding to ignore our conversation. But I don’t want to leave it just yet.

“I want to know,” I murmur. He snorts and looks at me one last time before moving the computer far enough away so he can loom over me.

His hand takes hold of my wrists and pins them against the bed. The other goes to my neck, forgetting the crucifix and the movie that continues in the background.

“How badly do you want to know?” he whispers above my lips. His grip on my neck tightens, but he doesn’t squeeze. I can’t move, and knowing that at any moment he could cut off my breath, far from threatening me, fills my stomach with butterflies.

I let myself be carried away by this sudden hunger for him. Our lips lock in a chaste kiss that he turns into a fierce one. Our lips move in a savage frenzy. A gasp dies in his mouth as he snatches my pants and underwear off in an instant. He takes advantage of my parted lips and slip his tongue in, searching for mine.