Page 28 of Deadly Sins

18Ksenya

IWOKE IN THE MORNING groggy from sleep. For a few seconds, I almost forgot who I’d become, my heart remembering a time when I’d slept in this bed almost nightly when Grant had been mine. Back then, I had been loved, whole, beautiful. Last night, though, I enjoyed pleasuring him, being in control, taking him in my mouth…afterward, I’d felt cheap.

I wanted to make love to Grant. No…I wanted Grant to fuck me. Raw, hard, rough. But I wanted him to fuck Mia, not Ksenya. No matter what I did with Grant as Ksenya, I still loved him. But he was probably just having fun playing house with his newest Barbie doll.

I slipped into the T-shirt he’d left out for me, the scent of steak and eggs permeating the air.

I peered around the corner, watching my ex-boyfriend pouring coffee. Hero jumped up to greet me. I rubbed his ear like he always liked, and he let out a groan.

I noticed Grant watching my interaction with Hero. Uh-oh. I’d seen Hero with new people. He was fiercely protective of Grant and would lunge at anyone for getting near his master. Hopefully, Hero wouldn’t give me away.

“Morning, beautiful. Have a seat. I made you breakfast.” Grant motioned over to the reclaimed wood table that occupied his eat-in kitchen area; a warm smile graced his handsome face. The mere sight of him made my chest tighten.

A steak topped with a fried egg awaited me, a glass of orange juice standing next to the plate. He placed the mug of steaming coffee next to me and poured in hazelnut-flavored creamer.

Dammit—I was a vegan. I’d had sushi on our date and still felt sick. But avoiding this food could raise suspicion. I wasn’t going to take any chances.

Grant used to make me breakfast every morning, no matter what time he had to go to work. Back in the day, he would always make me a special meal—tofu scramble with soyrizo. At the time, I didn’t realize how thoughtful that small act was, but now my gut wrenched, thinking about how stupid I’d been to throw this wonderful man away. Maybe everything would be different if I’d told him the truth about why I left him; maybe he would’ve forgiven me.

The problem was, I didn’t really know the truth myself. Yes, I knew what had happened, but since I didn’t know who was to blame, I could never fully heal. I couldn’t move on. I was incapacitated with the daily reminder of the looming shame that had become my existence.

I halted that train of thought right in its tracks because I could feel myself retreating. I straightened my posture and fought to meet Grant’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Thank you. You did not have to cook for me this. It is sweet.” My knife sliced into the meat, blood squirting into the yolk of the egg. I took a deep breath, shoved a bite into my mouth, and prayed I wouldn’t gag.

Grant watched me intently. Was he testing me? A huge meat-centric breakfast for a stripper he’d known less than a week? Maybe this had become his modus operandi for all the women who spent the night in his bed.

I was clearly being paranoid. He was probably just infatuated with the submissive character I was playing.

My face didn’t flinch as I chewed the animal flesh. Perhaps I should’ve forced myself to eat meat for the past six months to prepare my stomach. “It tastes very good to me.”

He winked, and that devilish smile crossed his lips. “Glad you like it, babe. I know this great steakhouse downtown. I’ll take you there on a date.”

I gave him a big, wide-eyed nod, batting my eyelash extensions like that was the best date suggestion ever. “I’d love to go to there.” It would be a blast—I could don a cow costume and pour a bucket of red paint over my head to protest the slaughter of those magnificent animals. That would definitely be preferable than attempting to have a romantic dinner there. I probably wouldn’t make it in the door without yakking all over the place.

I focused my energy on remembering not to bite my lip when I lied. Lord, Grant was already driving me crazy. With my luck, for our next date, he would suggest we go hunting.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “So, I’ve decided,” he said, scratching the sexy morning growth he hadn’t yet bothered to trim this morning. My eyes dropped to his fingers, and I momentarily remembered peppering that jaw with butterfly kisses in the mornings to get him to wake up. “It’s time for you to quit Panthers.”

My eyes jumped back up to where they belonged because what the fuck did he say?

“Quit? No, it may not be dream job, but it is job. What do I do to get the money if I quit? I am not hooker. I will not take it, your money.” Why was he taking such a personal interest in a stripper?

I needed this job to exonerate my brother. This ruse wasn’t about pleasing Grant; it was about gathering information. I had to keep reminding myself that. He’d never take me back anyway. He was too proud; I’d hurt him too deeply. He deserved better than me—someone who would never deceive him like I had.

He reached across the table and took my hand. “I don’t want you working there anymore. That place is trashy. You’re better than that.”

My eyes scanned his face. Something was off. It was one thing to take a stripper back to his place but wanting her to quit her job after two dates and a blowjob—not to mention no sex yet—didn’t seem natural. “It is very kind that you to want to make me better person, but I am not broken bird for you to fix it.”

His face didn’t register any anger. “Ksenya, I like you. You intrigue me. We could have something here. But you have to quit stripping.” His brow furrowed as he gave me his I’m going to kill you stare that was normally reserved for the SEAL recruits he trained. “I need to come clean. I’ve been lying to you. I don’t work in pharmaceutical sales. I’m a Navy SEAL. Do you know what that is?”

Orange juice dribbled down my chin. My heartbeat raced.

He’d just told Ksenya the truth. Did he really want to let his guard down, let this foreign girl into his heart?

A flash of anger took control of my mind. I’d purposely modeled Ksenya to be my opposite. Mia had been principled, ambitious, self-sufficient, and compassionate. Ksenya was none of those things. She took her clothes off for men, didn’t seem to have any real goals besides making money, was barely able to provide for herself financially, and was ice-cold. And physically, Mia was soft and feminine, but certainly not a bombshell.

After all these years, knowing that my soul mate could possibly find love with a woman with so many characteristics that I lacked gutted me. Maybe everything I thought was true had been nothing more than a figment of my imagination. Maybe Grant never really loved me, he only thought he did, but in the years since I’d left, he’d come to discover the kind of woman he truly wanted.