Twisted Cravings (The Camorra Chronicles 6)

“Maybe I am.”

Dinara shifted her weight to one elbow, resting on her side, bringing us even closer. She peered into my eyes and for a moment I was certain she saw everything. “Maybe you want to be. But we are who we are. I am a Mikhailov and you are a Falcone. Our paths aren’t on the light side.”

“That’s the Russian soul being melancholic.”

“That’s the realist.” Dinara let out a yawn and closed her eyes briefly. “What time is it?”

I didn’t have to check my phone to know the time. The sun was rising on the horizon, which meant it had to be around six in this part of the country. “Six. Sleeping time.”

Dinara nodded. “I’m afraid to ask after the whole toilet break debacle, but do we get the chance to shower during the seven days? I’m not sure I can go without a proper wash and shave that long.”

I chuckled. “We have two sanitary trailers with showers that drive around. Sometime tomorrow it should stop here too.”

Dinara pushed to her feet and I did the same, which brought us both very close. With a teasing smile, Dinara turned and opened her car, crawling inside. She kicked her boots off and stretched out on the back seat.

The way she lay before me was way too inviting. I wanted nothing more than to crawl inside with her and find out if her belly piercing was the only piece of body art she had.

“Can you close my door?” Dinara’s words burst right through my bubble. I did as she asked and after I’d extinguished the lamp, I made myself comfortable on the back seat of my car. It didn’t take long for me to fall asleep. Despite Dinara’s words, I didn’t worry about her manipulating my car.

I woke to the sound of another car and jerked upright, scanning my surroundings blearily. When I spotted the sanitary trailer, I relaxed. A glimpse at my phone revealed it was almost noon and I’d gotten ten messages from Remo, Kiara, Fabiano, Savio, and C.J., most of them wondering why I’d fallen back. Of course, one of the drone cameras had filmed the leading trio. I ignored their messages and climbed out of my car.

When I glimpsed into Dinara’s car, she was still stretched out on the back seat, deep asleep. Her palms rested on her belly, cradling a gun. Dinara definitely had trust issues. I, too, had a gun in my car and had kept it under my pillow on the back seat, but I didn’t hang on to it as if it were my lifeline. I wondered if she’d thought she might need it against me, or if it was a more general precaution.

I nodded toward the guy riding the sanitary truck. “How long do we got?”

“Ten minutes for two.”

I nodded then grabbed a towel and rushed into the bathroom on the trailer of the truck. I didn’t wait for the water to get warm, not wanting to waste too much time. Dinara probably needed a bit more time, considering her longer hair. That’s something I’d learned living in the Falcone mansion with my brothers’ wives.

I resisted the urge to wank off while imagining Dinara taking a shower—the cold water helped with that—and instead hurried through the shower. I towel-dried myself hurriedly before I slipped on boxers and black jeans. The shirt in my hand, I stepped back outside. In the three minutes it had taken me to shower the temperature seemed to have increased ridiculously.

Dinara must have woken by the constant hum of the truck engine because she waited in front of it with fresh clothes and a towel in her arms. She yawned. Some of her mascara had smudged under her eyes and her hair was all over the place, but she still looked eye-catching. A dot of color and excitement in our barren surroundings. Endless sand and stone and dusty roads. “I was starting to wonder if I needed to join you for the shower before the time was up and I didn’t get a chance to clean up.”

“I took only three minutes. That gives your seven luxurious minutes.”

After hearing her suggestion of showering together, I regretted not having prolonged my session.

Dinara moved past me with a small smile. “Thank you. I don’t think showering with you would have been a good idea anyway.”

With that, she disappeared inside and closed the door.

I pressed out air, unsure how to handle Dinara’s flirting because I wasn’t sure if she really meant it or was playing with me. Maybe both. But every day I cared a little less about the latter. Two could play a game.

I let the hot midday sun dry my hair even if that increased my curls. Women loved them and I preferred that they made me look different than my brothers.