Page 53 of Sweet Deception
Chapter Nineteen
Well, what the fuck was that?
I stalk back and forth through the corridors of the safe house, my body still buzzing from adrenaline.
That was not supposed to happen.
Sex is meant to be a weapon.
Not…whatever that was.
I yank my favorite lighter out of my pocket, flicking it open and closed while I think. I’m struggling to piece together the various tiny bits of information I’ve squeezed out of Veronika Kotova because the math is still off. Every single time. And the constant intrusion of these visceral, sensory flashbacks isn’t helping anything.
The soft strength of her hips, snug in my grip as I worked my dick inside her, over and over. The sound of her moaning in hot, hazy Russian… Jesus.
What was I thinking?
That it would be like last time?
That it wouldn’t mean anything?
Fucking hell. Focus.
I shove the image of her naked, writhing form straight out of my mind.
No matter how I think about it, if she’s been telling me the truth, and all this is just about her trying to find her friend, then she’s in way over her head.
But that’s a ridiculous scenario.
Her friend goes missing, she’s searching for her, and somehow, she thinks I’m involved? Or the Kings are? So she crashes the wedding and hacks my phone, but then what? I can’t even imagine what possible plan would or could progress from there. Her logic and motivation remain a mystery.
Still seems more likely that what little bit of the truth she’s shared is deeply connected to some bigger part of a truth she’s continuing to hide.
Like she might be acting on behalf of the Petrov Bratva, whose heir we murdered. Or that she’s somehow allied with Troy Sullivan, and the “friend” she’s searching for is an escaped human trafficking victim he wants back… While I hate both of these hypotheticals, I can’t rule them out.
What a waste if I have to kill her.
Honestly, I don’t even know how I would if someone ordered me to.
I paced around for the better part of two hours until I found myself back in the living room, where Napalm snoozes on a rug nearby. It’s taken Herculean effort not to go back upstairs and crawl back into that bed with her.
My dick won’t stay down.
Out of nowhere, the squeal of metal cuts through my thoughts. I stop and look up at the ceiling. Veronika’s bedroom is directly above.
Shower sounds follow.
“Fuck, I need to go for a drive…”
I wrestle with my options.
My brain and my body are off-kilter. The best remedy for that is getting behind the wheel, but I’ve already done thatonce tonight, and I…I don’t want to do it again. Not if it means leaving her locked up here.
The heat of her anger from earlier is burned into my brain.
No.
I definitely don’t trust her here without me, but I also don’t want to leave her all alone. Just leaving her locked upstairs this long has been agonizing. I only did it because I needed some time to think, and I knew if she followed me out, things could’ve gotten really out of hand.
