“What are you in the mood for?”
“Uh… I…” I let out a shaky breath when his thumbs dipped into my waistband, grazing down the slope of my hip bones. Hands wrapped around his biceps, I steadied myself.
“Use your words, Cordelia,” he commanded as he tugged the fabric down an inch.
Words required thoughts - and all of mine were occupied by the rough pads of his thumbs pushing against the elastic of my panties. “Yeah, okay.”
His fingers stilled and my eyes flew open. He grinned a stupidly smug grin. “Blini?”
Damn him. He was talking about food. WhatdinnerI was in the mood for?! I nodded at his suggestion, but my voice came out clogged. “Blini sound good.”
“I’ll get started.”
The catchy popmusic was barely enough to cover up the buzzing sound. I just hoped the latter didn’t carry all the way to the basement, where Victor was swimming laps. In his black swim shorts. With the water pearling off all his muscles.
That mental image did nothing to stifle the hot gasps escaping my throat.
I clutched my free hand over my mouth and tightened my grip on the vibrator. My legs jerked under my blanket, causing my bed to creak, adding to the not-so-subtle sounds.
The memory of Victor’s hands inside my waistband mixed with images of him climbing out of the pool. Not swimming, not even jumping in - climbing out, hands wrapped tight around the railing of the ladder, arms flexing as he pulled himself up, water dripping from his hair.
“Oh god,” I gasped against my palm. The hot pressure between my legs was mounting higher and higher. I writhed on my sheet, my spine arching off the mattress.
And then that picture of him climbing out of the pool morphed, and the water from his hair was dripping onto my stomach. Cold droplets trickling down the curve of my belly and into my navel as his mouth left a scorching path down, down, down my torso. His teeth and tongue played with me, left a burning red trail on my skin. And then he dipped his head.
I whimpered, bucking against the vibrator, as the pressure became too much to contain.
I tasted him in my throat and I felt him between my legs, and the heat erupted from my core in shakes and moans. Memories and fantasies flashed through my thoughts. Theyblurred together. Until it was all him. His deep earthy scent. His bottomless green eyes. His strength flexing around my body. Victor.Victor.
“Victor,” I gasped, right before the world stilled.
Warmth radiated through my limbs as I crashed back into my pillow. Every breath was labor in my lungs. Fingers jittering like fall leaves, it took me a couple of tries to turn the vibrator off before I let myself fully sink into the softness of my bed.
I waited.
And I listened.
Because I’d just come with Victor’s name on my lips, and I wasn’t sure whether I wanted him to walk in or not.
But the house remained quiet.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
My feet poundedinto the whirring machine. The display shot some electronic fireworks across the screen as I added another mile to my total. Even the days I didn’t spend at Petya’s, I’d started working out more. It was self-preservation. If a hit took me out, it wouldn’t be because I hadn’t been prepared.
“I can’t focus,” Cordelia whined as she trotted into the gym. She was pulling an adorable grumpy face that lacked any sort of conviction. Her little pink skater dress and the thick fluffy socks meant she hadn’t come down here to work out.
“Want to jump on the treadmill?” I offered, because I knew that whatever I suggested right now, she wouldn’t do on principle.
She grimaced. “I’m distracted, not bored to death.”
“Okay,” I huffed, “what’s so distracting?”
“You,” she sighed.
“I’m not doing anything.”
“I’m distracted by the idea of you.”