by A. Zavarelli
“Nina knew you.” I remember suddenly.
His expression doesn’t change, but his eyes close off a little.
“So, who are you?” I continue.
“Her father does some work for my uncle.”
“Who’s your uncle?” My mind is making up scenarios, that Russian accent suddenly much more prominent.
Our food arrives then, and Lev smiles up at the old man who keeps talking in Italian. A plate of gnocchi topped with red sauce is placed in front of each of us, and a moment later, he’s gone.
It looks delicious and smells even better. I haven’t eaten all day, and even given the uncomfortable situation, I’m starving.
When he leaves, I look up to find Lev’s eyes still on me. “Do you speak Italian too?”
“Too?”
“I heard you talking with your friend—”
“He’s not my friend,” he cuts me off, his expression hardening. “I was born in Moscow. Lived in the States most of my life, though and no, I don’t speak Italian, but I do understand some. Giacomo was saying that he finds you beautiful and to enjoy our meal.” His expression softens again, and he tries for a smile. “Lecture over, Kat. Now to the business of why I returned your scarf.”
“Because you wanted to see me again.” Am I stupid that the thought makes me feel warm inside? Makes me feel good?
He puts a forkful of gnocchi into his mouth and smiles wide. His expression and the little bit of red sauce on the corner of his mouth make me smile, too.
4
Lev
A soft glow blooms across Katerina’s cheeks as the evening wears on, and I can’t tell if it’s the wine, the candlelight, or me. She’s loosening up, telling me bits and pieces about her life. Her friends. Her living situation. Her work. These are details I wouldn’t typically care to know about anyone else, but with her, I’ve barely scratched the surface.
I want to know about her scars. Her pain. Every tear she’s ever shed and every secret that might pour from those lips. And worse yet, I want to know what she’d look like coming around my cock. Does she have freckles everywhere? Is her entire body as soft as her hands?
Christ. It’s been far too long since I’ve felt the warmth of a woman in my bed. This isn’t the one I should break that dry spell with because I’m already in too deep. But I can’t stop staring at her. Soaking her in. Inhaling her scent every time she moves and leans a little closer.
Before I realize it, Giacomo is asking if there’s anything else I need before he sends the staff home for the night. A glance around the restaurant proves that we’ve been here for hours. All the other guests have gone, and I failed to notice.
I thank Giacomo and give him an extra tip for his service before pulling out Kat’s chair and helping her into her coat. She looks a little crestfallen that the evening is coming to an end, and I’m tempted to tell her that it’s not. But as I walk her to the car and open her door, I know that taking her home is the right thing to do. I did what I came to do. I returned her scarf, and I made sure she was safe. There can’t be anything more to it than that. But when I sink into the driver’s seat and glance over at her, she smiles at me in challenge.
She hasn’t buckled her seat belt, and we’re playing a dangerous game. I lean into her again, dragging the belt across her thighs and tucking it into place. She shivers when my fingers brush against her arm, and I make the fatal mistake of glancing up at her. Her eyes are the softest shade of green I’ve ever seen. They seem to change with the light, and right now the deep ring of blue around the edges is vibrating with a want she can’t deny.
I’m not thinking clearly when my thumb grazes over her lips. It’s second nature to want to experience her this way. Kat sucks in a breath. Our eyes lock, and for a minute, all of my problems cease to exist. She grabs me again, like she did last night, and this time, I don’t fight her. My mouth crashes into hers as my fingers fall to the beating pulse in her throat. Katerina arches into me, dragging her fingers through my hair as she moans into my mouth. She’s a goddamn wildfire, and I can’t put her out.
“Katya,” I murmur against her lips. “You are so much fucking trouble for me.”
She blinks and pulls away, just enough to look up at me. “Katya?”
I smooth her hair back into place and sigh. I’m revealing too much of myself. Getting too familiar with her. I should lie, but I would demand honesty of her, so I can only give her the same. “It is another way of saying your name in Russian. Like a nickname.”
“Katya,” she repeats. “Will you say it again with your accent?”
She snares her lip between her teeth, and I bite back a groan as I consider her doing the same when I sink inside her. When I finally manage to speak again, my voice is rougher than I’ve ever heard it.
“I should take you home.”
“You could,” she answers hesitantly. “Or you could take me back to your place.”
“Christ.” I lean back against my own seat, trying to gather my thoughts. “You’re killing me here.”
“This doesn’t have to be a hard decision,” she says softly. “You’re hot, and I like you. And I think you like me, right? So, forget about all the rest. Let’s just focus on tonight.”
I open my eyes and glance over at her. My dick is uncomfortably hard. I know if I were to slide my fingers between her thighs, she would be wet for me. It isn’t smart or logical, but perhaps, she is right. For tonight only, I can indulge this fixation I have with her, and tomorrow, I will say goodbye to her for good.
“Fuck it.” I start the ignition and shift the car into gear.
“Is that a Russian yes?” She laughs softly.
I glance over at her with a smirk. “That’s a Russian yes.”
Despite the levity in my voice, tension returns to my body as I navigate the familiar streets back to my rental in the unsuspecting neighborhood of Chestnut Hill. I’ve never brought a woman back to my place before. But I’m not about to suggest a hotel, and Kat’s apartment is out of the question with her roommate there.
She is quiet as she watches the scenery outside the windows change from her familiar stomping grounds to mine. I don’t know what she’s thinking, but I can only imagine this will inevitably invite more questions. Questions I can’t answer.
“You never told me what you did for a living.”
My jaw flexes, and I think I hate this question more than anything. “I do odd jobs.”
“Like what?” she presses.
I glance at her as the car comes to a stop in my driveway. “I can’t tell you the things I do, Kat. That’s the deal, and it’s something I can’t negotiate on. If you want to back out now, it’s not too late for me to take you home.”
She frowns as her gaze moves to the one-bedroom stone cottage beneath the tree canopy that this area is known for. It doesn’t look threatening, and it’s not. Nobody but my uncle knows I live here, and I’ve been content to keep it that way, until her.
“I guess I just have one question then.” She folds her hands into her lap, obscuring the scars as she often does without thinking about it. “Can I trust you?”
It would be a lie to give her an unequivocal yes, but I suspect she already knows that. Intentions are only as good as the moments they are spoken in, and those moments are often fleeting. I have a feeling Katerina understands that better than most.
“You are safe with me tonight,” I tell her. “What happens now is up to you.”
Her shoulders relax, and she lets out a shaky laugh. “Then I want to go inside. Show me your world, Lev.”
I shudder at her choice of words, relieved she could never understand the full weight of her request. The only part of my world she can ever see is this small space where I sleep at night. This is all that can ever be ours, and it’s a limited-time offer.
After shutting off the car, I walk around to open her door and help her out. The gravel crunches beneath our shoes as we walk to the front door, and I can feel her sudden nerves as I turn the key in the lock. Wh
en the door opens, I gesture inside for her to enter first. It needs to be her decision. She was brave back in the car, but I don’t know that she will remain that way.
Once the lights are on and she can see the space for herself, it doesn’t take her long to relax. I take her coat, and she tests out the sofa while I drop my keys and wallet in the kitchen.
“Would you like anything to drink?” I offer.
“No thanks,” she says. “Did you choose this furniture yourself?”
I meet her gaze with a smirk. “Does it look like I did?”
She eyeballs the neutral tones and pieces that seem to fit together naturally. “Not really. Doesn’t seem like your style.”
“It came with the rental,” I tell her. “I wanted something that was move-in ready. It’s just more convenient.”
I leave out the part that I intentionally chose a place I could leave behind in a hurry if it ever came to it. Clothes, furniture, cars… these things are all disposable in my line of work. They have to be. The only thing of value I’ve ever kept is the metalwork my father and I used to work on together in his shop. And when it comes down to it, that’s the only thing in this house I’d ever need to take with me.
Kat nods as if my explanation clears up her own suspicions as I flip on the gas fireplace and kick off my shoes. I take a seat beside her on the sofa, and without thinking about it, my arm comes to rest around her shoulder. Kat leans into me like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and it chokes some of the air from my lungs.
I can’t keep her.
She turns to me and looks up, and I know what she wants. But if I only have tonight with her, I intend to take my time. I want to experience every inch of her, with nothing left on the table.
“Kat.”
“Hmm?” she murmurs, eyes soft and warm.
“You are so fucking beautiful. You don’t even realize it, do you?”
My words light the match to the slow-burning flame inside her, and her response is to crawl onto my lap and grasp my face in her palms. I groan as my lips collide with hers, and my hands come to rest on her hips. She rocks her pelvis against my swollen dick, arching her body into mine, and it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen.
Her hair is a mess from my hands. But right now, she’s mine. My tongue slips between her lips, and our teeth clash as the hunger in my veins demands more.
Kat peels off my coat as I kiss my way down the sensitive flesh of her throat. She shivers for me, so alive, so responsive, and I know I’m already half done for. When I get inside her, once isn’t going to be enough. I have every intention of fucking her until the sun comes up, and I tell her as much when I reach for the hem of her shirt.
She responds in kind, frantic, scrambling to eliminate the obstacles between us. At some point, she removes my belt, and then I get her shirt off. She unclasps her bra and tosses it aside, and I freeze.
“What?” She glances down in panic as though I’m seeing something I shouldn’t.
Before she can get too much in her head, I dip forward and suck her nipple between my teeth and then release it before moving to the other side. Her fingers thread through my hair, digging into my skull as she arches into me. She cries out when I tug on her jeans, loosening them enough to slip my hand into the cotton band of her panties.
“Lev!” She squirms as I make contact with her swollen clit, soaked with want for me.
I toy with her slowly, building her up and then backing off as I rub her beautiful tits against my face. It’s torturous and not just for her. I want to feel her body wrapped around mine, but not until she comes for me at least once. It won’t take much. I can feel it in the tightening of her muscles and the hiss of her breath every time I stop. Before she even realizes it, she’s pleading with me, gasping stuttered words between breaths as she begs me to free her.
I flip her onto her back, tugging her jeans and panties off and pausing to admire her one more time. She’s completely naked, and she’s never looked so vulnerable… or so sweet. My dick throbs when I realize that I was right about her freckles. She does have a few more scattered across her creamy skin. I want to connect all the dots with my tongue and devour her like the wolf she thinks I am right now.
“Spread your legs for me,” I command.
She does as I ask, her eyes never leaving mine as I position myself between her thighs. I kiss my way up the delicate expanse of skin until she’s a writhing, panting mess.
“Oh my God, Lev… please.”
Her words fall short when I bury my face between her legs and eat her like she’s my dessert. Katerina rewards me with everything I want to hear. Her body quivers and tenses as she claws at my back and mumbles incoherently. There is no coming back this time. She’s too far gone, and I only realize it when she spasms around my tongue and cries out in agony.
The orgasm seems to go on forever, scorching her every nerve and completely wrecking her. When she finally opens her eyes again, she is breathless and exhausted, but she understands what I need from her.
“Don’t stop,” she whispers. “Don’t ever stop.”
There isn’t time to think about it. I’m acting on autopilot when I tug down my briefs and drag my aching cock against her wetness. I close my eyes, and she digs her fingers into the base of my spine as I sink into her warmth. Pure. Fucking. Heaven.
I sigh and then thrust, and she wraps her legs around me, pulling me deeper into her body. Our mouths come together in another frenzy, and I fuck her into the couch, my own agony escaping between our lips.
We’ve run out of words. I have no need for them. I just need to keep fucking her like this until I have nothing left. And that’s what I do. I thrust into her over and over again, driving myself to the brink. There’s a small, nagging voice in the back of my mind that I need to stop before it goes too far. But before I can think it through, Katerina leans up and drags her teeth down my throat. That feeling travels straight down my spine and explodes into my dick. I’m not thinking straight when I bury myself inside her with a grunt, releasing what feels like a metric ton of pressure from my balls.
Fuck.
I blink and look down at her, and I think she knows we fucked up too, but neither of us can acknowledge it. Or at least that’s what I believe … until she speaks.
“It’s okay.”
I collapse into her and wonder how she knows it’s okay. Is she on birth control? I can’t voice my concerns. But she must be if she’s giving me her assurances, right? The alternative is too terrifying to imagine, so I let myself believe her. I’m still inside her, and she isn’t asking me to get off. So, I kiss her. I kiss the hell out of her. And pretty soon, that kiss evolves into something else, reigniting a need I never knew I had. I take her two more times before the sun comes up, and we finally collapse into a coma in front of the fire.
At some point during the night, my body curls around hers, and she sighs against me as though it’s exactly what she needs. It feels right, but I know everything will change when we wake again. My suspicions prove correct when I hear her mumbling something in her sleep, and it pulls me back to consciousness.
Her expression is pained, and it looks like a war is raging in her head as she murmurs the name again.
“Joshua.” Her body tenses, and it’s obvious she’s having a nightmare, but all I can think about is who the fuck Joshua is.
I watch her for several minutes, waiting for it to pass, but it never does. That’s when I notice another scar on her temple. I hadn’t seen it before because of her hair, and it feels like another secret. This girl has proven to be full of them. When she jerks awake, she catches me staring, and the resulting shame is written all over her face. She drags a handful of hair down to obscure the scar, and I can’t figure out why it bothers me so much. Last night she was open for me, and today, she is closed.
“You were having a nightmare,” I observe.
“I was?” She blinks.
“Who is Joshua?” I ask before I can think about al
l the reasons I shouldn’t.
In a split second, Katerina shuts the question down with a shake of her head. “Nobody.”
Nobody. It doesn’t feel like nobody as she scrambles to her feet and grabs her clothes.
“I need to use the bathroom,” she says.
I nod, and she disappears down the hall as I stumble to my feet and find my jeans. She’s lying to me, and if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s dishonesty. But then I remind myself it’s none of my goddamned business. That was the plan, right?
In the light of day, everything is clear again. I don’t know this girl. Not really. And I can’t afford to get to know her. However those scars came to be, I can’t fix that for her. I can’t slay her demons when I have my own. The best thing I can do for both of us is take her home and tell her goodbye. That’s the only logical conclusion. Every other path is a recipe for disaster.
I’m no good for her, and she’s definitely no good for me. Not with the type of life I lead. Her absence serves as a reminder of that, and by the time she’s returned, she notices the cold front when she finds me in the kitchen.
“You have somewhere you need to be?” she asks, noting that I’ve put on my jeans.
“I’ll make you some breakfast,” I tell her. “And then I’ll take you home.”
5
Kat
I wrap my scarf around my neck as I take a seat at his kitchen table.
“You cold?”
I try for a smile that doesn’t quite work and shake my head. “Just don’t want to forget it again,” I say as I pick up the mug of black coffee he puts in front of me. He doesn’t sit down.
He’s different this morning. Distant. Not quite cold but not really here either.
“I can catch a bus—”
“I’ll take you home after you eat,” he cuts me off with barely a glance over his shoulder.
“You seem busy, that’s all.”
He doesn’t reply. I watch his back as he works and remember last night. Remember how he was at dinner. Remember how he was after. My belly does a little flip, but a moment later, my heart sinks.