Torrid (Sordid 2)

I’d been with him for five weeks. The wound I’d put in our trust had scabbed over and was healing, faster each day. I looked forward to his days off from work, when we could spend more time together. I enjoyed it when he took me along on nights he carried out his uncle’s orders. On paper, I’d thought he was a thug who spent all his time trying to convince others he was a badass . . . but I was wrong.

Vasilije didn’t put any effort into who he was. It came as naturally as breathing.

I couldn’t wait to help him carry out his plan for Goran, and hoped when the time came, he’d be there for me.

The conversation ended and the phone was handed back to me.

“We’re starving,” Luka announced. “We’ll have lunch and get to know each other better.” Like Vasilije, his tone made it clear this wasn’t a request.

?

Even though I’d cleared my stuff out of the green striped bedroom, Addison and Luka took the smaller guest bedroom beside it, which didn’t have an attached bathroom. He was obviously the one in charge of their relationship, but when he’d picked up their luggage and she’d whispered, “not the green room,” he’d nodded instantly.

We went out to dinner with them. I sat beside Vasilije at the table, his hand resting on my leg beneath the tablecloth, and did my best to act natural. I was the only one in the group who hadn’t been in the basement when he’d killed Dimitrije. The sickest part of me hated that I wasn’t bound to Vasilije like they were by the event.

If everything went right, soon I would be.

Luka and Addison went to bed early, and as Vasilije and I sat in the living room, watching a movie, a soft, feminine cry rang out from their room. Was that . . . pleasure? I turned to him with wide eyes and he shrugged.

“When they lived here, it was like that all the time. I found a bunch of shit when they moved out. I guess my brother’s a kinky fucker.”

I blinked and flattened my voice with sarcasm. “But you’re so normal.”

He grinned. “I’m not normal, but neither are you, Oksana. You’ve got my bite marks to prove it.”

I shivered with satisfaction, and watched his eyes pool with heat. He liked giving me pain and pleasure, almost as much as I liked receiving it. We didn’t make it to the end of the movie. He shut it off, dragged me upstairs, and gave me a blistering session. He encouraged me to be loud, probably wanting to one-up his brother, and I was happy to help.

Christmas Eve came too quickly. After lunch, which I ate hardly any of, I put on the silver cocktail dress Vasilije had bought me and got ready for the party. Nerves rattled in my stomach. On top of what I was going to do, I was about to be surrounded by Markovics.

I hadn’t seen Goran since the day Vasilije had punched him.

I was putting on a second coat of mascara, swiping the brush over my lashes as Vasilije appeared in the bathroom mirror. He wore his dark gray suit and a bright red tie, and my knees went weak. He looked so good like that. Deceptively dangerous. His smile was disarming, and if you didn’t know him, you wouldn’t believe there was a gun tucked inside his suit.

“You look fucking hot.” His gaze lingered over my bare legs, then worked up my body. The dress was decorated in faceted clear beads, making me shimmer and sparkle. It dipped low in the front. Although I didn’t have much cleavage, it was flattering.

“Thank you,” I said, capping the mascara and straightening. “So do you.”

He waved my comment off like I was being silly. “Maybe we’ll sneak off after dinner and I’ll fuck you in my uncle’s bed.”

Vasilije wasn’t joking. It was absolutely his style.

“I’d like to stay far away from his bed, thank you.” I faced him and smoothed my hands down my skirt, which was a few inches shorter than I would have liked. He’d said it was necessary.

A sly smile warmed his lips. “By the way, I’ve never brought a girl to meet the family. Be prepared. My aunt is nosy. People are going to be all up in our business.”

I deflated a little. I didn’t want any attention on us, but then again, Vasilije had dressed me like a fucking disco ball.

He insisted on driving so John could have the holiday off. We piled into a silver Mercedes-Benz, and the air in the car was tense as we got on the expressway. Luka and Addison didn’t like Goran much either, and the mood was somber as we headed to the ‘party.’

Vasilije’s home was a mansion, but Goran’s was a palace. The estate was a sprawling compound tucked behind a formidable gate. We pulled up in the circle drive, got out of the car, and a valet darted behind the wheel.