Hidden Monsters (Volkov Bratva #4)(69)

Swallowing, she didn’t bother to answer that. “Is there a reason you’re breaking into my place instead of knocking?”

Grabbing the metal kettle from the top cabinet, she filled it with water, setting it on one of the burners before turning it on.

His footsteps were unhurried as he joined her, his presence at her back making her more nervous than she already was. When she turned, slipping past him to get some room, she noticed that his jacket was gone now, along with his boots.

Him getting comfortable in her apartment when she was too high to notice was one thing, but doing it while they were both completely sober was something else entirely. She didn’t want to think about it, but something about tonight was different, even if she wouldn’t acknowledge it.

Steam was just emitting from the kettle, and as though it was the most interesting thing in the world, she didn’t take her eyes off it, as least until he forced her to.

He slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans, the muscles in his biceps straining with the movement. She tried not to, but her eyes betrayed her as she watched the action, wishing she could trace the veins with her fingertips. She looked away before he could notice.

As he rounded the island, moving toward her at a leisurely pace, she bought time, entering the pantry to peruse the boxes of tea inside, taking a deep breath as she went.

She didn’t want to look like she was running from him so she grabbed a box without actually reading the label and rejoined him.

Not looking at him, she asked, “Do you want some? You can grab your own if you don’t want—” she glanced down at the label “—peppermint. In case you think I might poison you…”

“I don’t drink tea.”

“Of course not,” she mumbled, going back over to the stove to wait. He was one of the pickiest eaters she knew.

Folding her arms across her chest, she chewed the inside of her cheek. It was hard facing off with him when she was fully dressed, but with hardly anything on, she needed all the help she could get.

“Why are you here again? I don’t remember extending an invitation.”

He looked toward the whistling kettle, turning off the fire beneath it before facing her again. Plucking the box of tea from her hand, he tossed it on the counter.

Gently, he put a hand around her waist, turning her so that she was facing him before resting his hands on the counter on either side of her, caging her in. She felt the coolness of the granite on her back, the heat of his body closing in around her. From the way his mouth kicked up again as he eyed the part in her robe, it was blatantly obvious that he appreciated the knowledge, even if he couldn’t see anything, and at that thought, blood rushed to her face.

“I told you I was coming,” he remarked, getting closer if that were possible.

She thought back to what he’d said before he had left, moments after she could catch her breath again after kissing him. “Not really,” she said finally meeting his gaze. “You weren’t very clear on that.”

“Wasn’t I?”

Refusing to bend, she said, “You weren’t clear on a lot of things.”

“I’m here now. What does that tell you?”

“Absolutely nothing. You were here two nights ago and I still don’t know what that meant.”

She’d thought she did, but that assumption had clearly been off.

“You…no, look at me,” he urged when she’d tried to turn away, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You wanted me, I’m yours.”

Such pretty words, words that she had longed to hear since the moment that she realized Luka was it for her. It was almost too good to be true. She wasn’t ready to believe that he’d actually said those words.

She hated feeling vulnerable, showing more than she meant to, but with Luka, even if she tried to put up a front, he’d see right through it. Hating the vulnerability that she felt, she pressed her hand to the center of his chest to push him back a step.

“But for how long.”

Ever sincere, he said, “For as long as you’ll have me.”

“Luka—”

His hand curled around the base of her neck, tugging her forward as he shut her up with a kiss.

“Do you really want to fight now?” he whispered against her lips, his other arm going around her waist.

The answer was no.

No, she didn’t want to fight him, not about this. Not anymore. Whatever had made him come to her tonight, she wouldn’t question it. She might regret that decision in the morning, but for now, she would enjoy him for as long as she could.

“But that’s still—”

“Until someone drags me away, I’m right here. With you. With us. Yeah? And even then, I’m still yours, Alex.”

He must have sensed the fight drain out of her because his smile grew bigger and he reached for her hand. “One thing…”

The tea that she had been so adamant about was quickly forgotten as he led the way back to the living room, taking a seat on the couch before pulling her down on top of him. Her hands flew to his shoulders to steady herself, and she was intimately aware of their new position and how the folds of her kimono parted further, barely hiding anything anymore.

“That’s for you,” he said, gesturing with a tilt of his head to the papers neatly folded on the table in front of them that had gone unnoticed when she’d first noticed him.