Page 81

I swallowed, throat suddenly dry, but I didn’t take it back—couldn’t because it wasn’t a joke. Not really.

Christ.

Was I… actually falling for this man? In a week?

This stubborn, violent, infuriating man who snarled at everyone, including me? Who slept on his back for days because I’d fucked him too hard, but still wanted me beside him? Who dragged himself out of bed tonight just because I wasn’t there?

My pulse wouldn’t settle. Behind me, Stas shifted, pressed his chest firmly to my spine, his breath warm at my nape.

“Stop talking out of your ass. We’ll sleep in your bed tonight only because I’m convinced you’re drunk. I can smell the alcohol on you.”

Maybe he was giving me an out. Maybe he expected me to take it, but I didn’t move. I didn’t take his bait.

His arm stayed around my waist, heavy and sure, like he meant to keep me there. I closed my eyes again, letting the truth settle into my mind.

Fuck.

I was in trouble, and for once in my life I didn’t want a way out.

Stas was quiet for a long beat, his breath ghosting over my neck. “I couldn’t sleep without you,” he mumbled, almost too low to catch.

If he’d whispered “I love you,” it couldn’t have hit harder.

“Well,” I drawled, a stupid grin pulling at my lips, “that’s tragic. Big scary pakhan can’t sleep unless he’s cuddled.”

Stas stiffened behind me. “Forget I said anything.”

He actually pushed away as if he was seriously about to haul his bruised ego and stubborn body out of my bed at midnight because I’d teased him.

I twisted fast and caught his wrist. “Oh no, you don’t.”

“Let go, Yuriy.”

“Where do you think you’re going?”

His nostrils flared. “I’m going back to my bed. It’s obvious you don’t want me here, or you would have come to me tonight.”

“I would have if I hadn’t fallen asleep.” I tugged until he stumbled back onto the mattress beside me. Then I rolled half on top of him, draping my weight across his chest, settling my head on his shoulder. “And you’re staying because I want you here. I sleep better when you’re next to me too.”

He exhaled sharply, more flustered than angry. His hand hovered in the air like he didn’t know where to put it until, finally, he set it on my back.

“Good night, then,” he muttered.

“Mm.” I turned my head and brushed a kiss over his jaw.

He froze, then melted. I pressed my lips to his in a lazy, soft, brief kiss. The kind that was supposed to be nothing more than good night. But Stas shifted under me, his chest rising too fast, thighs tensing, and breath catching.

And god help me, it made me smile into his skin.

“What’s wrong?” I murmured, nuzzling his throat.

He grunted.

I smirked. “You want something.”

“No.”

Liar.