Page 172 of Toxic Temptation
Sleeping with him once was a mistake. Yes, an earth-shattering, life-changing, best-orgasm-of-my-life mistake, but still a mistake. Yes, a mistake that makes every other man I’ve ever so much as glanced at seem like a grotesque, sexually incompetent amoeba in comparison—but definitely, undeniably a mistake nonetheless.
Too many of those mistakes might just kill me.
“What do you say, Vesper?” Kovan asks. The way he purrs my name does things to my insides that should be illegal. “We’ll stop by Carino’s. I know you love their chocolate espresso.”
“How do you know that?” I ask in surprise. “I mentioned it, like, once.”
“I pay attention to you.” He runs a hand through his thick black hair and shrugs, like that’s just a matter-of-fact thing that it’s completely reasonable for him to do. I beg to differ, but before I can argue, he grabs my hand and says, “Let’s go.”
So we go. And if I let him hold my hand until we get to the car, well…
There’s no rule against that, is there?
Halfway to the park, Kovan suddenly jerks the wheel left and makes a U-turn that has my stomach dropping into my shoes.
“Um, Kovan? Where are we going?”
“Testing a theory.”
His eyes keep flicking to the rearview mirror where Luka is absorbed in his GameBoy, oblivious to the tension radiating from his uncle.
But I notice. I notice everything about this man now, same as he notices me—and that’s the heart and soul of the problem.
“See that white Lexus two cars back?” he murmurs.
I check my mirror. “Yeah.”
“Been following us since we left the house. Pretty sure the passenger has a telephoto lens.”
I spot the white Lexus weaving between cars, trying to look normal and failing. The glint of camera equipment in the passenger window confirms Kovan’s suspicions.
“I see it,” I whisper hoarsely, fear clogging my throat.
“Watch what happens.” Kovan makes another U-turn, heading back toward the park. The Lexus drives past, then executes its own U-turn thirty seconds later. “Looks like we have company.”
“Yana?”
His jaw turns to granite. “Has to be. She’s hoping to catch us off-guard. Fighting, maybe. Or looking bored with each other. Whatever it takes to paint a bad picture.”
“What do we do?”
His smile frightens me. “We perform,krasivyy. Time for the show of our lives.”
He takes my hand once again, and despite the warmth of his palm, ice floods my veins.
An hour of public foreplay later, I’m ready to combust.
We’ve held hands, laughed, talked, kissed, and flirted until I’m dizzy with want. The only thing we haven’t done is strip each other naked and go at it on the playground equipment.
Not that I’m opposed to the idea.
I just prefer my exhibitionismwithoutan audience of private investigators.
But Kovan thrives under scrutiny. The PIs that Yana hired have been tailing us faithfully, and they’ve forced us to turn our park visit into an Oscar-worthy performance. While they lurk in the bushes, Kovan wipes ice cream from my chin with his thumb, then sucks it clean while maintaining eye contact. He kisses my nose when I laugh. He pushes me on the swings while Luka conquers the slide, his hands lingering on my lower back each time he gives me momentum.
It’s sickeningly sweet and couple-y and absolutely perfect.
And it’s killing me because none of it is real.
