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I dump my jacket on the ground and undo the top three buttons so I have more range of movement to climb. I roll up my sleeves to my elbows before jumping on the railing of the neighbor’s patio and hang from the bottom of Elanee’s. One of the perks to being six foot two, is when I pull myself up effortlessly and flip over the rails.
I tsk under my breath at her recklessness in having only a locked screen door to protect her. She’d always loved a fresh breeze running through her apartment. I warned her even in college she shouldn’t leave her windows open in case someone broke in. And yet the only person who ever had was me, dragging her to whatever party or lookout spot I felt like at the time. I find it even more ironic now.
No lights are on and only the dim shine from the streetlight gives me the vague outline of a living room and what looks like a kitchen, but I can barely see past the living room.
I pull out a switchblade from my pocket and slice down the screen. Reaching inside, I switch the latch and open the door. The moment I step into the living room I hear the click of a gun. Vaguely, my eyes adjust to the kitchen and Elanee who is standing in the dark, pointing it in my direction, wearing a tight little sweater, boy shorts, slippers, and a fiery storm pent up in that bronze gaze.
“The fucking audacity, Dmitri Volkov,” she spits.
2
ELANEE
Pointing the gun at Dmitri sparks a million unsaid questions and memories. Ones I thought I’d cut away when I told him to never seek me out again. How many years had it been since college and we had any type of relationship? Five? Six? It didn’t matter. My life went to shit the moment I met him in college. And it was only a week ago I warned him to yet again, leave me the fuck alone. I comfortably rest my finger on the trigger. “I told you to stay away from me.”
He looks like a predator in the dark. Eyes as blue as an ethereal ocean intently stare at me through thick eyelashes. Perfectly styled dark blonde hair. Chiseled jaw and his lips… My gaze drops as I remember those lips. How I’d longed for them for years during university, wondering maybe, just maybe if there could’ve been something between us. And that deadly desire was enough to put me into a life sentence with everything that transpired afterwards. Dmitri had everything to do with my predicament even if he didn’t know it.
“We both know I don’t play well by others’ rules and I was asked by your sister to check in on you,” he says dismissively, pushing his hands into his pockets casually as if he has all the time in the world. He partly looks every bit of the delinquent that he was in college. Well, the version he hid from others. But not me or my sister, Layla. No, we’d always seen the unapologetic version of who Dmitri really is. Now he looked more like a man, bigger, his gaze and tone deadlier.
“You can’t be here. Get the fuck out of my home,” I grit out. This was bad. If anyone saw him entering my apartment, it’d be bad news for both of us.
He scrunches up his nose. “That’s what this is?” He looks around now, curious. The arrogant prick has hardly changed. My stomach betrays me with warm flutters to see him again and I know I have to cut it off as quickly as I would my own air supply.
Why can’t this man just leave me alone?
Dmitri Volkov has it all. He is one of the most regarded bachelors in New York while running his grandfathers’ IT company, Creighton Technologies and that’s not even including his own empire he’s built over the last decade through various businesses. He has charisma and looks that give him the reputation as a playboy. But beyond that he’s also the man I’d secretly fallen in love with many years ago. Had. Past tense.
“If it’s a matter of owning this building, I’m sure I could do it by end of day,” he threatens as he pretends to run a finger over one of my potted plants looking for dust.
Bang. He barely flinches as the very same pot he touched explodes beside him. His reaction is too fast for me to cock and pull the trigger twice. Dmitri’s hand is around my wrist holding the gun in the air as he pins me against the bench, his knee nestled between my thighs. I lean back, trying to escape him because I can’t overpower him. My sister, Layla was the fighter. Not me.
He’s smiling, charged and excited by the challenge. It’s the same look he used to get when he’d fight back in college. There was always a dangerous creature lurking beneath the surface. But since then, I’d learned there’s greater things to fear. Dmitri will never be one of them.
“You’ve become bolder, Elanee,” Dmitri says as he runs his nose along my neck, and the predatory notion of smelling me is somehow intoxicating. I shudder under his cool breath and I hate how my body betrays me. I freeze under his touch as if I can’t move until he permits it. And it’s the last reaction or form of submission I want around this man.
“Get off me.” I try to push him off but it’s useless as he nestles his knee further between my thighs. “You can’t be here!”
I try my hardest to resent Dmitri. None of this would’ve happened if I’d listened to friends as early as my college days to stay away from him. But I’d be lying if I hadn’t been all the more fool for falling for his charm.
His blue eyes are now staring me down and I refuse to look away, even when suffering under the palpable tension that his gaze alone inflicts.
Dmitri’s used to intimidating others into submission.
And he always gets his own way.
Not with me.
My knee jerks up, right into his balls. He keels over ever so slightly, the wind knocking out of him, but his grip doesn’t lessen. If anything… I think he likes it…
“Feisty.” Dmitri curses under his breath but he makes no way to move.
“You can’t be here,” I plead. “Now let me go, please.”
The moment I say please, his hunger slowly disintegrates. That wild animal inside recedes and draws Dmitri back out. It’s him staring down at me, his leg pinned between my thighs, with his heavy body weight against me. Despite my body wanting to lean into it, I resist the tension between us.
I’m conscious of his hands around my wrists pinning me into place and my shorts riding up and causing friction where they have no business to be. And I’m only acutely aware of all of those things because of this man who is leaning further into me.
“Pinkie swear, not to shoot at me again?” He cocks a boyish smile. My nostrils flare and I’m certain that’s because of his spicey cologne more than infuriation. Both of which piss me off.
