Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 68102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Sofia: You sound just like Aleksandr.
She didn’t know what else to say.
Colm: I sound nothing like Aleksandr. He’s your cousin and I’m . . . not.
Right. That felt anticlimactic.
Colm: You need to go to sleep.
She did, but she didn’t want to admit it. She also didn’t want to close her eyes. Because despite his reassurances, she still felt this heavy weight of guilt in her stomach.
Of dread and uncertainty.
But she could hardly beg him to continue texting her. He needed some sleep too.
No doubt tonight hadn’t been that easy for him either.
Shoot. She was so selfish.
Sofia: Are you all right?
Colm: Ahh, sweet lass. Yeah, I am. I’m fine. I’ve seen worse, unfortunately. But I’ve learned to compartmentalize. And I’m not an innocent like you.
Sofia snorted. Innocent?
Yeah, she was anything but that.
Colm: I want a promise from you, though.
Sofia swallowed heavily. What sort of promise?
Colm: If you can’t sleep. Whether it’s because you’re scared or angry or upset, I want you to message me. No matter where or when. Promise?
Sofia closed her eyes. That . . . that promise was something she really wanted to make. She wanted to be able to message him whenever she needed him.
But that would just build up to a reliance that she couldn’t afford, resulting in a want for more that wasn’t possible.
To her secret dream becoming more tangible.
Colm: Sofia.
Yikes. She could hear the sternness in his voice even through text, which made her jumpy.
Colm: Do I need to come over there?
Shit.
Sofia: No! You can’t come over here! You’ll get caught by Sacha’s men.
And she could well imagine her cousin’s reaction to that.
Colm: Baby, I won’t get caught.
Unexpectedly, her body temperature rose by several degrees and her pussy started pulsing. She pushed her legs together.
Sofia didn’t know what she was reacting to exactly . . .
His arrogance or him calling her baby.
Still, she couldn’t have him coming over here, so she was going to have to lie.
Sofia: Promise.
Colm: You better mean that, Sofia.
Lord help her. There had to be something very wrong with her because his threatening tone just turned her on more.
Reaching down, she cupped herself between her legs. She was wearing an old pair of pajamas, worn and comfortable. So she was able to slip her arm easily under the waistband and under her panties to run her finger along her clit.
A shudder worked its way through her.
She was on a knife’s edge.
Sofia: This is dangerous, Colm.
Colm: There is no danger to you because I will protect you.
She closed her eyes as she moved her finger faster, her breathing growing choppy.
He didn’t mean it like that . . . like how she wanted it to mean. That he would be hers and she would belong to him.
Because she already belonged to other people.
To her cousin.
To Oleg—the rat.
Urgh, if anything could damper her arousal, it was thinking of that bastard.
Sofia: As a friend, right?
There was no reply. Great. Why did she have to ask that? Why not keep the fantasy alive?
Colm: It’s what friends do for each other. And I think you could use a friend.
What she could really use was his mouth between her legs, his tongue playing with her clit, his fingers thrusting into her pussy.
But she couldn’t say that, now, could she?
She should be relieved that he was agreeing that this was just friendship. Even if they both knew that wasn’t the case.
Sofia: Yeah, I could use a friend. But I don’t think it’s a smart idea.
Colm: Go to sleep, Sofia. Now. That’s an order.
Sofia: Were you born this bossy?
Sometimes, she was uncertain why she was so attracted to him. The man could be a complete dictator.
Colm: Yes. And I’ve become accustomed to being obeyed.
Sofia rolled her eyes. Dear Lord. He was out of control.
Colm: Go to sleep. I expect you to text me if you have problems.
Sofia sighed and decided arguing with him would get her nowhere.
Sofia: Goodnight.
There was no reply.
But she guessed she hadn’t really expected one.
9
Sofia drew the image on the napkin with an intensity that would have surprised her under other circumstances.
But this was her life at the moment.
Drawing the same image over and over.
It was almost . . . frenetic. A way to exercise old demons. And yet, they still haunted her.
Along with her newer demons.
God, she was drowning in problems, worries, and issues. They kept piling up higher and higher until the stress erupted.
She wasn’t able to sleep. Even her nightmares were an uncontrolled mess, the past leaking into the present.
Dead eyes staring at her. Pleading with her.
Asking her to change the past.
Only . . . sometimes they weren’t Dima’s eyes. Sometimes, those eyes morphed into something else.
Someone else.
It didn’t help that she was now short on staff with both Dima and Boris gone. She didn’t want to ask Sacha what had happened to Boris.
Sometimes, she was better off not knowing.