by Abbi Cook
I don’t care. Whatever this is between us left the realm of chance that first day I did my Boy Scout routine out on Route 144.
At the apartment building, I shuffle her inside and into the elevator as quickly as possible. Even if I don’t believe she’ll cry out for help, who knows what may happen if we run into other people. The last thing I want to do is make small talk with anyone today.
The doors close, and I release my hold on Natalie’s arm. She quickly hurries to the spot in the elevator farthest away from me and lowers her head. Her refusal to even meet my gaze bothers me more than it should.
“I wanted to see you,” I say as some half-hearted explanation that says nothing more than the obvious.
“Why are you doing this? I’m a married woman,” she pleads, still refusing to look at me.
“I know what you are. Look at me,” I order, but still she won’t lift her head.
As she continues to ignore me, I take a step across the space and stop in front of her. “I’d rather not do this here.”
That breaks her resistance, and her head snaps up. “Do what? What are you going to do?”
Before I can answer her, the elevator rings to signal we’ve reached the third floor. As she steps toward the door, I wrap my fingers around her wrist and hold her to me.
Natalie looks down at where our bodies touch and then up at me with pure terror in her eyes. If we happen to run into anyone at this moment, they’ll likely guess she’s here against her will. Not that they’d be wrong in that assertion.
“I thought you were a nice man that day you stopped to help me with my tire. Why are you doing this?”
We step out into the hallway and I pull her to the left toward the apartment. “I told you. I’m not nice, and that’s not what you want.”
“Yes, I do. Actually, what I want is for you to leave me alone.”
When we reach the door, I quickly unlock it and push her inside. Before she can say another word, I pin her back to the door and stand close enough to her that her breasts press against my ribs.
I cage her in with my arms on both sides of her and press my palms to the door. She has no way to escape. Not this apartment and not what I have to say.
“You don’t want me to leave you alone. That’s a lie, and you know it, Natalie.”
Again, she refuses to look at me, so I take her chin and lift it. God, she’s beautiful, and now as she stares up at me with those watery blue eyes, I almost think I won’t be able to go through with what I plan to do today.
But that guilt quickly fades.
“Why do you insist on pretending that you don’t want me as much as I want you?”
She answers my question with her own. “Why would you want me at all? I’m just some plain housewife whose husband doesn’t even want her. Why do you insist on playing games with me? Is that how you get your fun? Toying with sad women?”
As she speaks, right before my eyes she becomes that broken thing I suspected lived inside her. I instantly dislike this version of her and need to rid myself of it.
Cupping her cheek in my palm, I tilt her face up toward me and shake my head. “No toying, Natalie. No games.”
She stares up at me for a long moment and says nothing. Finally, she closes her eyes and whispers, “Can you read my mind? Are you some kind of magician or something? How do you know these things? It’s like you know what I’m thinking without me even saying a word.”
I hate that she wants to hide herself from me. I want to see those soft blue eyes. I want to see the sweetness and innocence in them. I want to look inside her and see her very soul.
Leaning down, I brush my lips against hers and answer, “I know them because I feel them too. It’s like you’re inside me, like someone mixed madness and happiness together and injected it into my veins. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
She slowly opens her eyes. “I don’t want to think about you, Alexei. I’m not supposed to. It’s wrong.”
“It’s never wrong to want someone, little bird.”
“Why do you call me that?”
“Because it’s in my nature to crush those weaker than me under my heel, but all I want to do when I look into those beautiful blue eyes of yours is hold you close and protect you like a broken bird.”
“I’m not broken,” she says sadly before closing her eyes on me again.
“Not to me.”
She lets out a heavy sigh and looks up at me. “Do you know my husband? Is it that you feel pity for me because he doesn’t care about me anymore?”
I work to keep the truth from showing in my expression. I don’t want him involved in anything between Natalie and me.
“No. All I know is that from the moment I laid eyes on you I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I’ve tried. I can’t get you out of my head.”
“This is wrong, Alexei.”
“I’ve seen a lifetime of wrong. I’ve done a lifetime’s worth of wrong. This isn’t wrong.”
Covering her face, Natalie sobs into her hands, “Then why do I feel so guilty when I think about you if it isn’t wrong?”
I pull her to me and kiss the top of her head, loving the smell of flowers from her shampoo and the silky feel of her hair against my lips. “Shhhh. Don’t say that.”
Natalie tilts her head back to look up into my eyes, and I see that sweetness in her that calls to me like a siren’s song. “How could this be anything but wrong? I have a husband. He may not love me anymore, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m married.”
“I don’t want to hear another word about him,” I say through gritted teeth, tired of Adam Anchoff’s presence in this place he doesn’t belong.
She falls silent, but I feel her trembling against me. What is she afraid of? Me? Or what she feels?
“Why did you go to that therapist today?” I ask into the quiet of the room around us.
“Why do you know that I went there?”
I drag the pad of my thumb along her jaw and then over her bottom lip. “Answer the question.”
“Someone attacked me a few months ago, and ever since then, I’ve had nightmares and I see things that aren’t there. I’m worried I’m losing my mind.”
Searching her face to see if that’s the truth, I ask, “Is that the only reason?”
I know by the sheepish expression that comes over her that it isn’t. She hesitates to answer me and tries to turn to look away, but I hold her chin between my fingers to force her to face me.
“Answer me, little bird. Is that the only reason you went to see him today?”
She presses her lips together, as if she’s trying to keep the words from slipping out, but I won’t let her escape telling me the truth. I keep my focus on her, unrelenting because I want to know the answer.
Finally, she winces and says in a tiny voice, “I needed to talk to someone about how I felt about what happened between us the other day.”
“Did you?” I ask, continuing to press her.
Looking away, she answers, “No. We never got to that today.”
“Look at me, Natalie.”
This time, she obeys without a fight. “I swear we didn’t.”
I brush her cheek with the back of my hand and lean down to kiss her lips. Against them, I whisper, “You don’t have to talk to a stranger about what you feel. You can talk to me.”
“How can I talk to you when you’re the one who makes me feel these things?”
“Tell me what you feel.”
Again, she tries to look away so she doesn’t have to face me, and again, I don’t let her. Stuffing my hand into her hair, I tug it gently so she can’t move her head.
Looking into those blue eyes, I repeat myself. “I want to hear you say it. Tell me what you feel, Natalie.”
“Like you’re inside my head and making it impossible not to think about you. Why didn’t you want me the other day? Why did you tease me and then humiliate me like that?” she asks in such a pleading voice I feel like someone�
�s tightening their fist around my heart.
“I wanted you. I want you now. That’s why I brought you here. I thought I should fight it, but I can’t.”
I’ve never been more honest with another soul in my life.
“We should fight this.”
I hear her words, but her heart isn’t in them. She needs to convince herself she’s not doing something wrong, but I can’t let her do that. Whatever this is—wrong or right—she needs to see the truth as much as I do.
“You want me like I want you. You lay in bed thinking of what it feels like when my lips touch yours. You wish you could feel my hands on you, touching you in places like no one else has.”
“No!” she cries out, shaking her head against my hold.
So I tighten my fist in her hair and bark, “Yes! Admit it. Stop lying, little bird.”
The sound of my voice echoes off the walls around us, frightening her. Her eyes open wide in shock, and for a moment I think she may burst into tears.
But then a second later, resignation fills them, and she lets out a heavy sigh. “How do you know that’s what I feel? How could you know that?”
I release my hold on her hair to cradle her beautiful face in my hands. “Because that’s what I feel when I think about you.”
None of those words are a lie. What is, though, is what I don’t say because I don’t want to admit that truth.
Not yet.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Natalie
He stands so close that I can’t stop myself from wanting to touch him. He doesn’t look like he’s shaved in days, and his beard makes him look more ominous than usual, yet still I need to run my hands over it.
Usual. We’ve already seen each other enough times for me to think something is the usual with Alexei. What is wrong with me?
“Your beard is soft. I always thought a beard would feel picky.”
He smiles for a brief moment and then a look of confusion comes over him as he draws his eyebrows in. “You’ve never felt a man’s beard before?”
I know how ridiculous and unworldly that sounds. Adam never lets his facial hair grow. I’m not even sure I’ve ever seen him go a day without shaving in the entire time I’ve known him.
Shaking my head, I shrug as embarrassment fills me. “No. I’ve only been around two men in my life, and you’re the only one who’s ever had a beard.”
Alexei brings my hand to his face and drags it along his jaw. “Do you like it?”
I nod. “Yes. It feels like the hair on your head. The top of your head, I mean.”
He kisses my fingertips one by one and sucks my forefinger into his mouth. Instantly, my legs feel like they might give out as need courses through me with every flick of his tongue. His eyes watch me intensely, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable.
Easing my finger out of his mouth, he smiles. “Then I’ll keep the beard for you.”
No one has ever said anything like that to me. I’ve never had anyone offer to do anything to please me.
“You would do that for me?” I ask in amazement.
Alexei’s dark eyes scan my face, and then he kisses me softly before giving me his answer. “I’d do anything for you, little bird.”
Everything about him is utterly intoxicating. His interest in being close to me. His willingness to do things to make me happy. The way he wants me as much as I want him. The feelings he creates in me that I’ve never felt before merely from a kiss or the touch of a man’s hand on me.
I shouldn’t want any of this. I have a husband. I don’t know if he loves me anymore, but he doesn’t beat me or hurt me. I have a nice life. I shouldn’t want more. I shouldn’t want Alexei.
He leans in toward me and nuzzles my neck, brushing his soft beard against my jaw. “What are you thinking about that you’re so quiet?”
When I don’t answer, he nips my earlobe with his teeth and says low and deep in my ear, “Whatever it is, Natalie, it isn’t here. Only we’re here now.”
His hand slides around my neck and tightens ever so slightly. I should be frightened, but his touch excites me more than my brain can handle, pushing everything but need out of my thoughts, and I moan softly.
“My little bird likes that, doesn’t she? Mmmm…”
I shouldn’t like that his hand threatens to choke me. I shouldn’t like any of this. But I do.
“How tight should I make it, Natalie?” he asks as he slowly slides his hand up and down the column of my neck, pressing his fingertips against my skin and then letting go.
“Please don’t hurt me.”
As if he doesn’t hear my plea, Alexei squeezes my flesh and leans back to give me a wicked smile. “There can’t be pleasure without a little pain.”
Fear spikes in me, but as quickly as he began tightening his hold, he releases it. My emotions whirl inside me—fear, need, desire, guilt—all twisting together and threatening to overwhelm me.
“I should go,” I say and try to push him away, but it’s no use.
He’s too strong for me, and he won’t let me go. Not this time.
His intense gaze pins me to the spot. “I made that mistake the other day. I won’t let you make that mistake now.”
And then his lips meet mine in a kiss that makes my head swim. I can’t think clearly. I can’t think at all. The singular thought in my head when his tongue snakes into my mouth to tease me is that I want to feel this. Every time Pilar’s told me stories about the wild sex she and her husband have, I’ve compared it to my sex life and I can’t help but wish someone wanted me like he wants her.
Now someone does. Why does it have to be a man I shouldn’t want?
Alexei leans back and winces as he studies my face. “Little bird, you make me want to do things I shouldn’t.”
I don’t know what he means. A man like Alexei probably has done a myriad number of things sexually that I’ve never even heard of. What I could make him want to do that he shouldn’t I can’t even guess.
He takes my hand and guides me into the living room of the apartment. The person I normally am would notice the color of the walls and the design choices, but all I can focus on is the feel of his strong hand holding mine and how large he looms in front of me.
When he stops in front of a dark grey sofa, I suddenly realize what I’m about to do. All week, I’ve felt guilty for almost sleeping with Alexei. What will it be like after I actually go through with it?
Lost in thought, I don’t hear him speak and see him looking down at me, not like that helpful man who changed my tire or even the sweet one who just said he’d do anything for me. Now he looks like an animal sizing up his prey.
“Sit, Natalie.”
For a fleeting moment, I consider running, but it would be no use. He’d catch up to me. I am his to do with as he pleases in this place. He controls everything here, including me.
I do as he orders and sit on the grey sofa. My legs tremble, so I press my knees together to make them stop. God, I feel so foolish. I’ve fantasized about him since the day we met, but now I’m sitting here like a frightened schoolgirl.
Alexei stands over me and unties the bow of my dress on my left shoulder and then my right, making the top of my sundress flop over onto my chest. As he tenderly strokes his fingertips over the skin on my collarbone, I feel my nipples tighten in excitement.
“You have the most perfect skin I’ve ever seen. It’s like you’re a doll someone’s just taken down off the shelf and brought to life. Maybe I should call you my little doll instead,” he says with a wicked smile.
Without thinking, I shake my head at the thought of being called someone’s little doll. It reminds me of how my mother used to talk about my appearance when I was growing up.
Then I remember that I’ve just disagreed with a man holding me here and I hurry to explain myself, but Alexei stops me with a kiss. “No little doll then. Little bird it stays.”
I’ve never had anyone give me a nickname before. Adam always just calls me Natali
e, and sometimes when he’s being especially sweet, he’ll call me honey. It’s not terribly original, but I used to think he meant it.
Little bird should mean nothing to me, but every time Alexei says those words, I love hearing them more and more. I don’t want to be broken, but to be protected sounds so good.
“Let’s see how you like the feel of my beard on your thighs.”
As those words float through my consciousness, he kneels down in front of me, loosens his tie, and unbuttons the first two buttons on his dress shirt before shrugging his suit coat off. He’s power personified, even on his knees.
“What are you doing?” I ask, unsure what he plans next.
He licks his lips and smiles up at me in a way that makes my breath catch in my chest. Leaning forward, he slides his hands up under my dress and over my thighs, spreading my legs as he moves along.
They begin to shake, so he stops and a frown darkens his face. “I won’t hurt you, Natalie.”
“I don’t know what you’re doing,” I quietly admit, afraid he’ll think I’m too naïve.
He stays silent but stares up at me as if he can’t understand what I don’t understand, so I nervously bite my lip and look away in embarrassment. Now he’ll certainly not want me because I’m so inexperienced in all the things a woman does with a man.
“Look at me, Natalie.”
I can’t. I feel too stupid and don’t want to see his face when he tells me he doesn’t want this.
Alexei leans forward and wraps his arm around my waist to pull me to the edge of the sofa. I still refuse to face him, but now he’s close enough to force me to turn my head to look at him.
“I can’t tell if you’re just a tease or if you’re really as innocent as you seem to be. If you’re just teasing, I promise it’s working because I’m so fucking hard my cock could probably cut glass right now. If you’re just that innocent, then I need to know because I’m not normally gentle enough for someone like that.”
His hand lingers on my throat as he speaks, and his voice catches every time he says the word innocent, like the very syllables excite him. I hate that I have to admit that I’m a married woman and I don’t know what’s he doing down there on the floor in front of me.