Page 27 of Beneath the Light of the Moon
Mikko glanced back up at Anika andgiddywas not the word he’d use to describe her. She seemed focused, rearranging something in her living room before disappearing out of sight. If she was excited about purchasing the industrial property, she had a unique way of showing it.
Great:Mikko
Keep her talking:Mikko
And he knew Levi would.
Locking his phone, Mikko searched for signs of Anika again only to see she’d made her way upstairs and was currently standing in front of an upper window. Her phone was tucked between her ear and shoulder as she unbuttoned her blouse.
Mikko tasted copper as his teeth sunk into the flesh of his cheek.
Slowly, she undid another button as blood continued to flood his mouth.
Is this a trick?
And as he was about to hop off his motorcycle—
The curtains closed. Mikko swallowed.
And the fantasy that was beginning to bloom in his mind turned to ash.
What the fuck am I thinking?
He wasn’t,simple as that.
And he certainly wasn’t using his head—well, the right one—when he yanked his key out of the ignition and slipped into the vegetation lining the edge of her yard.
Maybe I can catch a glimpse of her if I sneak in closer.
As he was about to open the gate leading into her front yard, a second window upstairs illuminated.
And there she was, in all her glory.
Somewhere along the way, she’d pulled her hair up into a messy bun and lost her blouse entirely. Standing in front of the window without a care in the world, Mikko could damn near see the lace of her bra.
Blood raced south; his mouth watered.
Why had she chosen him to antagonize? And why was he letting her get under his skin?
A demented form of escapism, perhaps? It was the only thing he could rationally think of, and even then, that didn’t deter him. He wanted her to touch him again, trace his tattoos and damn near spit in his face—anything as long as she distracted him from the responsibilities weighing on his shoulders.
A sliver of envy weaved through his chest. He longed to be normal, to break free of the duties holding him captive, but there was nothing he could do. People were counting on him. This infatuation had to go away.
Or else.
Instead, he was forced to be a Romanov; a man resigned to real estate and money laundering.
And long ago, he’d discovered just how dangerous women could be. Especially for men like him—obsessiveones. But there was no one to be mad at, to blame. He’d chosen this, he’d put himself in this situation. All those years ago when he should’ve retaliated against his father, he’d chosen to grit his teeth and stay silent.
Now he was paying for it, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t taunt her in other ways.
Together they could play this game.
And play he did.
With every piece of clothing she dropped, he unraveled a little more.
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