Page 33 of Paved in Hate

“No, I’m not,” I say, feeling my resolve start to slip a bit.

“Mm-hmm,” he says, and I can hear the doubt in that little hum.

I point my half-eaten cupcake at him. “I’m not.”

“Of course. You will definitely not be making sweet, sweet love to that woman.”

I laugh and shake my head. “Jesus Christ, please don’t ever let me hear those words come out of your mouth again. Ever. Jolene’s made you soft, man.”

He smiles. “She has. Only for her, though.”

I eye the bruised knuckles on both his hands, knowing he’s right. There isn’t really anything soft about Lev. He doesn’t do near as many underground fights as he was doing, but he’ll still occasionally go to keep David happy and off our backs, especially now that Konstantin and Osip have taken an interest in placing bets. We can’t afford to make too many changes and draw unnecessary attention.

While I heat up the leftovers, Lev and I go over the meeting we’d had with Konstantin earlier. It’s getting harder and harder to be around that jackass, especially now that I’ve been around Katya. He may not have beat her, but he sure as fuck did something to her. She’s terrified of him, and I want to know the reason for it. I’d nearly punched the fucker when he’d smiled and asked if his sister had done what was expected of her.

Grabbing two drinks from the fridge, I lean against the counter and cross my arms over my chest. “Once we find out where Alina’s at, all hell is going to break loose.”

“It is,” he agrees, and I can tell by the way his brow is furrowed that he’s worrying about Jolene.

“They’ll be safe,” I remind him. “All of them will be.”

“And the wife you might be tossing back?”

“Fuck, man,” I groan, scrubbing a hand over my face, disgusted at the thought of Katya being around her brothers again. “I won’t let that happen.”

“I know you won’t throw her back to them, but you and I both know the safest place for her is right here.”

“For now,” I agree.

“Okay, answer me this,” he says, because he’s determined to not let this go. “Do you feel anything for her?”

I ignore him and grab the leftovers, dishing it out onto two plates. When I look up, he’s giving me a smug grin. “Matvey was right.”

“About?”

“He said you wouldn’t be able to resist her.”

I gesture to myself and smile. “Really? This is me resisting her.” I don’t add that my hand still smells like her pussy and that I can still taste her arousal on my tongue. Minor details that he doesn’t need to know about.

“For now,” he says, still grinning, because evidently my brothers have all become wise, married men now, more than happy to dispense unwanted wisdom at the drop of a hat.

“Take your fucking pearls of wisdom and shove them straight up your ass. I’ve got this under control.”

He’s still laughing when I take the plates and walk back upstairs. I hate it when he’s right, and we both know he is. There’s something between me and Katya, and I don’t know what in the fuck to do about it. The plan was to annul this and never speak of it again. Move on and pretend it never happened, but when I walk into the bedroom and see her curled into a ball on the bed, fast asleep and looking so goddamn beautiful it makes my chest ache, the last thing I want to do is let her go.

Setting the plates down, I sit on the bed and watch her sleep. She’s on her side, hands tucked up by her chin, knees pulled up so she’s in the fetal position, and I can’t resist reaching out and brushing aside the hair that’s fallen across her cheek.

“Ptichka,” I whisper. “You need to eat something.”

She lets out an annoyed grunt and burrows deeper into the pillow. In a moment of pure insanity, I lie down on the bed next to her, so we’re facing one another. Dragging my finger down her cheek, I whisper, “What the hell are you doing to me, Katya?”

I keep watching her, memorizing every detail of her face. At some point I fall asleep, because the next thing I know it’s morning and there’s a warm, soft body cuddled up against mine. She must’ve found me in the middle of the night, because her head is on my shoulder, her leg hiked over mine, and her hand is resting on my chest. She’s not the only one cuddling, though. My arm is draped over her in a very possessive grip that is not at all my style. I almost laugh out loud. None of this is my style. Yet here I am, sleeping all night with a woman for the first time in my life, and I haven’t even fucked her. My life has taken a drastic turn.

Instead of feeling suffocated or like I need to get up and run out the door, I let my fingers slip into her hair before holding a thick strand up to the early morning light. When I pull it closer so I can smell the vanilla-scented shampoo, my cock reminds me that I still haven’t gotten to come. I’m not used to denying myself like this, and I’m curious how long I can last. It’ll either be my hand or Katya’s pussy, though. I don’t care if this marriage wasn’t by choice or if my initial plan was to have it annulled, I made a promise to her when we exchanged rings, and I never go back on my word.

The thought that I can’t fuck anyone else should have me losing my goddamn mind, but I’m too busy smelling my wife’s hair to care. When she starts to stir, I tighten my grip on her and kiss the top of her head. Her whole body freezes when she wakes up enough to realize who she’s snuggled up against.

I give a soft laugh and drop her hair so I can stretch my arms above my head. We’d both fallen asleep fully dressed, and when she braces a hand on my chest, using me for leverage as she sits up, I look down, admiring the bare leg that’s still draped over me.

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