Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
We’re only alone for half a second when my impatience gets the better of me. I’ve been out cold for thirty-seven hours. Add that to the sixteen or so hours Leon’s goons kept me drugged and bound in the back of a seedy pedo van, it’s been over two days since I’ve touched her, smelled her, and felt her against me.
That is far too fucking long, especially since small trickles of a breathless confession are slowly clearing through the fog in my head.
I sound groggy as fuck while muttering, “I swear to God, Polly, if you don’t get your ass over here in an instant, I’m going to test the sturdiness of my cast.”
With a smile that finally overtakes the fear hardening her timeless features, she toes off her shoes before climbing onto my bed. Her crawl up the untouched side of my mattress is almost as good as the one she does when she wants to devour my cock. It is seductive as fuck and has me wanting to consume every inch of her, but my obligations won’t allow it.
I was out for two days.
That’s two days she’s been without my support.
After positioning her so her head is on my pec and her hand on my abs, I ask, “Are you all right?” I’m shirtless but wearing ugly-ass pants that look like they belong to a man in his nineties. “Did they hurt you?”
As my question leaves my mouth, more of the fog in my head lifts. It has me remembering why I came out fighting even with my head in the clouds. If I didn’t fight, they were going to kill Polina. They didn’t say if I had to win or lose, but the number of sedatives they dosed me with meant it wouldn’t be close to an even fight.
I went down fighting, but I still went down.
I lost, although you wouldn’t believe that with how at ease I feel right now.
My grief for Feo is still there, but a massive weight has been lifted from my chest.
There’s no more lying.
No more ruses.
Polina is my girl, and I can’t wait for the world to know that.
I’ve just got one last matter to attend to first.
“Polly…” I pull her hair away from her face so I can see her eyes before asking again, “Did they hurt you?”
She shakes her head before quickly changing it to a nod.
One bob and my heart is torn to shreds.
They hurt my girl. My fucking girl.
I’ll kill them all.
I’m about to go on a rampage until Polina mutters, “Not physically.” Her wet eyes lift and lock with mine, and it dawns on me in an instant. Her hurt is centered around me, not because of me. “No one would help me, and I didn’t have my phone.” She scrubs at her cheeks. “I thought you were going to die. You barely had a pulse.”
I try to make light of the situation. It is what I do when snowed under. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
She whacks me in the stomach, then instantly regrets her decision when I cough up half a lung. “I’m sorry. I forgot about your bruises.”
“I’m fine. It was barely a fairy tap.”
I’m a damn liar. It feels like she flung a sledgehammer at my groin, but there is no fucking chance in hell I’m going to tell her that.
Especially if it lessens the chance of her following my next suggestion.
“Although you might need to kiss my boo-boo better.”
She almost whacks me again. The only reason she doesn’t is because of the smattering of bruises stretched across my midsection. I’m beaten to a pulp but not feeling an ounce of pain.
Would you if you had a woman like Polina Kotova snuggled up to your side, tickling the fine hairs splayed above your groin?
“This is my fault,” Polina confesses, her words low. “Leon saw us. He had to. Otherwise how did he know I was using Vasily to get to him?”
“Because you’re you, and his son is a dipshit.”
She wets her dry lips before continuing as if I never spoke. “I shouldn’t have been so reckless at the party. You had a handle on your addiction.”
“Even if I did, he would have found out eventually.” I drag my index finger down her screwed-up nose. “You can’t hide sparks like ours forever. They’re too fucking hot to ignore.”
My comment eases some of the guilt in her eyes, but it doesn’t wholly erase it. “Dating Vasily was a waste of time, anyway. My father has been here for months.”
“What?” I wiggle my ear, certain I heard her wrong.
I didn’t.
“I saw him at the fight, and Kliment found the missing footage you noticed at the entry point of Kronstadt airport. He’s been here the entire time.”
Nothing but bewilderment is heard in my tone when I ask, “Are you sure it was him?”