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I took another small step forward, and she didn’t move. Her eyes were focused on the door behind me. I walked the rest of the way to her and started wiping the blood from her face and arms. There were no cuts or scratches, and thank the gods, there were no bite marks. It was hard to get the blood off of her when I had just as much on myself, even with the quick wipe down I’d had outside the door.
If Strain had bitten her, I would have walked away, removed his heart, and ripped his head off before his men could retrieve him. Delilah appeared to be fine, but was definitely in shock.
“Will you come upstairs with me to get cleaned up? We can take the back way, so you don’t have to see the mess out front,” I offered, speaking softly and keeping my eyes on her face.
Her expression never changed, but she nodded slightly and let me lead her toward the stairs. I probably should have taken Delilah to her own room to clean up and change, but I wanted to make sure she was safe. We walked up the back stairs to my apartment on the second floor. I’d had it explicitly remodeled to give me access to the bar while maintaining privacy.
Delilah didn’t say a word as we walked. I stopped her outside my door and pulled out my key. A moment later, we were inside, and I led her through the master bedroom to the master bath. The bloody footprints would be hell to get out of the beige carpet, but that was a problem for later.
She didn’t object as I removed her phone and keys from her pockets, then took off her shoes. Her clothes were ruined, but I could replace them. I needed to get the blood off her and make sure she wasn’t injured.
I turned the shower on to let it warm up, then guided her through the glass door. She stood just inside the door as if she couldn’t move. I had hoped she could take care of herself once I had her in place.
I kicked off my shoes and jacket, emptied my pockets, and entered the shower behind her. She only stepped forward when I placed my hand on her back and gently pushed her.
Once the water was running over Delilah, I realized how hard Strain had grabbed her arm to drag her away. The skin was turning purple already in the shape of his giant mitt. I hated that he’d marked her. Without thinking, I leaned down and kissed the mark. “I’m so sorry this happened, Myshka.”
Something about that action made Delilah turn toward me. Her expression changed, and the tears started to fall. She reached for me and clung as if her life depended on it.
“I was so scared,” she whispered, “is he dead?”
“No, but he won’t bother you again. It will take him a while to recover, but I think he got the message,” I reassured her, then kissed her forehead.
I don’t know what I was thinking. That was too personal. As if being in the shower in an embrace with her wasn’t? “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—” Before I could finish my apology, her lips were on mine.
The kiss was hot, greedy, and sexual. It was so much more than I’d imagined the moment we met. Her tongue danced with mine, and I could feel my arousal begin to grow between us. I tried to pull away from her, but she wrapped her arms around my neck and held me tightly, refusing to allow even an inch of space between us.
I kissed her as if she were a bottle of water and I was dying of thirst. Her moans of pleasure had me pulling her closer. Without realizing it, I’d backed us up against the shower wall. I pulled back for a moment to let her breathe. I didn’t want her to feel caged in.
I wasn’t trying to seduce her, at least not yet. But I wouldn’t turn her away either.
Chapter 8
Delilah
I had followed Mr. Maxwell up to his room willingly, too much in shock to think about any possible outcomes. One moment I was standing in the shower with my clothes on, staring at the wall, the next everything hit me and I desperately needed to cling to something positive.
The closest thing was Viktor’s mouth. It amused me how I had refused to call him Viktor, even after he insisted, until the moment our lips met. I was sure that I would never call him Mr. Maxwell again. I knew that kissing my new boss was a bad idea, but at that moment, I wanted nothing more than to be at his mercy.
He tried to pull away so I wouldn’t know how aroused he was. I didn’t let him. I wanted him so badly I couldn’t stand it. Bad idea or not, my clothes were coming off. I could tell from his erection that he wanted me too. When he backed me against the shower wall, I knew that I’d convinced him.
I started unbuttoning his shirt and slipped it off of him. His broad shoulders were accentuated by his undershirt. I had to get that out of the way so I could look at him. Viktor leaned forward and kissed me again while my fingers found the end of his shirt, then pulled it up and over his head.
I leaned against the wall and looked at his chest. Of course, he had a perfect six-pack. I was getting wet just thinking about getting him out of his pants. I reached for the button, but he grabbed my hand and stopped me.
Viktor put his other hand on my cheek. “Are you sure you want to do this, Myshka? You’ve just been through something traumatic. I don’t want you to regret this decision.” He was giving me a way out. I smiled.
“I’m sure. We’re both adults. I need this as much as you do,” I responded before capturing his lips with mine again.
He groaned and fisted his hand in my hair, exposing my neck. Then I shivered as he trailed kisses from my chin to my shoulder. I was desperate to get rid of every article of clothing that was still between us.
I leaned back and as if he understood, Viktor peeled my wet tank top off. He groaned at the sight of my lace bra. I wondered what his reaction would be to the matching thong.
I reached for his waistband again, and he grabbed my hand. “You first,” he growled. I licked my lips and nodded.
I unbuttoned my jeans before I realized just how hard it was going to be to peel them off in a sexy way since they were soaked.
I almost fell, then Viktor caught me. I started laughing uncontrollably. He was shocked and didn’t understand. “What’s so funny?”
