Page 42 of Nemesync
To my surprise, Elijah was there, casually leaning against the counter, clad in gray sweatpants. He didn’t have a shirt, muscles on display, inked from the chest to the visible V line on his waist.
He was beautiful, not in Niko’s way.
His beauty was dark and paradoxical, he had this aura that makes you want to touch him to feel if he was real. The color of his eyes reflected the way I saw him, just as enchanting as a darkforest, long green trees making it impossible to see anything else.
I was attracted to danger, to things that could make my heart race and explode with adrenaline and life.
And he weirdly had that effect on me.
He glanced up from his glass of water on the countertop, meeting my gaze with annoyance and amusement. “Your shirt is cute.”
My shirt was black and simple, but on it, a raised middle finger made a bold statement.
I smiled and faced him fully, “Oh, do you like it? The message on it is for you.”
“Only for me?” He teased, his lips curling into an arrogant smile.
“Only for you,” I confirmed, grinning.
He chuckled proudly, satisfied with my answer, and took a step closer, “You couldn’t do it in my face, so you’re wearing it, it’s even cuter.”
I raised my middle finger with the sweetest smile ever, because I didn’t care about his little threats.
He smirked and came near me, leaning closer. His presence was intoxicating, magnetic. The space between us felt like a ticking bomb; each breath I took and each exhale he made drew us nearer to a sweet and destructive explosion.
“What are you doing?”
His eyes lingered on me as his lips enclosed my raised middle finger. He sucked and bit it before stepping back to the sink, grabbing a glass of water for me.
I didn’t move, frozen, surprised. I couldn’t believe he did that.
Handing me the water, he said, “Do that again, and my mouth won’t only be sucking your finger, Zanae. Don’t tempt me.”
I was aware that my cheeks were hot and flushed, my anger growing, urging me to unleash it on him with a punch that would fuck up his little smirk and face. But I couldn’t move or say anything.
He sensed it, shooting me a sidelong glance with that same little tilt he always does—he was playing, and I was losing. “Are you eye-fucking me?” he asked.
I almost choked on my water. I was eye-fucking him.Fuck. When did I start doing that? Great, now I have no self-control.
I regained my composure, leaning against the counter. “I’d choose death before doing that, Volkov. Don’t do that again; I don’t want to catch any STDs.”
He chuckled, the sound low and rare, “You’re funny, Zanae, really.”
Taking a sip of my water, I met his eyes. Always on me, even when I’m not watching. “I’m not joking. Don’t ever do that again.”
“You know, Zanae,” he began, his voice clear, “If you don’t stop provoking me, I’ll do something bad to you, and it would only make me hate you even more.”
“Is that a promise, Elijah?” I asked, feigning excitement.
A dark grin appeared on his lips, “Your mere existence grates on my nerves. So, consider it a promise,Milaya.”
That stupid nickname again.
I arched an eyebrow, a smirk playing on my lips. Stepping closer, I batted my eyelashes when I looked up at him. I felt his breath on my face, and my fingers brushed gently against his chest.
“My existence is a problem for you, Elijah?”
His eyes flickered with a dangerous heat.
