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She wasn’t the only one feeling strangely uneasy. If only she knew half the things she did to me. Her floral perfume was driving me crazy, making me want to sniff her neck and kiss her shoulder.
The doors slid open, and I hurriedly took her over to the couch in the living room. I dropped her, and she sat still in silence, only making irrelevant adjustments on the arm straps of her dress while glancing at the view through the windows.
She shifted uncomfortably and was unusually quiet.
I took a step forward and stopped. My mind urged me to move forward and ignore her for the rest of the night, but somehow, the detective must have charmed me because I heard myself speaking.
“Anna’s out. If you’re hungry, you can use the kitchen.”
Then, I walked away, not waiting for her to say anything.
****
I was in my bedroom, undoing the buttons of my shirt, when I heard light footsteps from the hallway.
The door was open, and I saw her walk past with a straight face before she reappeared, poking her head inside. Her eyes flickered sideways, like a kid cautious of getting caught, and she summoned courage, positioning the rest of her body by the door, leaning against the frame with folded arms.
I lifted an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”
“You have eyes. What does it look like?”
Touché.
A smirk slid up my lips, and I popped out another button. I felt a thrill when her eyes followed it. She tugged her lower lip between her teeth, shrugged, and crossed the threshold, sauntering into the room. Her fingers traced a small painting on the wall, and she hiccupped. My little detective was mildly under the influence of alcohol. Astonishing.
After swiping her index across the dresser, she turned around and came up to me, chewing the insides of her cheeks with her hands clasped behind her.
“You watched me change.” Her voice was low, daring. “I think it’s only fair if I get to do it, too.”
This was nothing more than a challenge to her, a way to prove her point that she could be in charge if she wanted to.
Arguing with her would do no good.
The smirk on my lips turned into a full-fledged grin.
I pulled the shirt over my head and felt the heat of her gaze on my muscles as they flexed. Her eyes touched the lengths of my body, from my feet to the rips on my torso and the ink rising from my chest to the side of my neck.
She took another step closer. Close enough for me to see the light freckles on her cheeks and feel the heat radiating from her body.
Unexpectedly, her fingers shot up to my neck, and she traced the wolf's design intently while studying it.
“What does this mean?”
Her touch awakened a burning fire within me, a primal desire courting through every cell of my body and refusing to be silenced.
I inched closer, eliminating every possible gap between us until her chest was pressed against mine.
“Those are symbols, not words.”
“And yet symbols have meanings too. Tell me.”
“No.”
“Okay.” She smacked her lips, her eyes lit with amusement. “I’ll just ask another question then. Who’s Darya?”
My forehead dipped in a confused crease. “What’s it to you if you know who she is?”
Like a little kid, she moved her shoulder and swayed back and forth on the balls of her bare feet. She was both cute and amusing, and it turned me the fuck on.
