Chapter 9 Liev #2
She considers it, staring at nothing in the space behind me.
Then she nods. “I think it actually did.” Sera runs her finger over the lip of the glass thinking.
“I’ve been slipping through the cracks of my life for so long…
I feel like maybe I’ve found some solid ground.
” She huffs a laugh then winces, fingers flying to her throat.
“Sore?” I ask.
She nods.
“I can make hot toddies,” I offer. “If you have the ingredients.”
Her eyes light. “Yes!” A few minutes later I hand her a steaming mug, and she takes a careful sip. “Oh, wow.”
I smile and lift my own mug. Sera glances toward the sofa.
“Did you have plans tonight?” she asks.
“Nope.” I lean back against the counter again. “You?”
“I was just going to watch a movie.”
She hesitates, chewing her lip, eyes flicking to me and away again. “You could… stay, if you want.”
I lift a brow, and tease, “Best friends night in?”
She grimaces and rolls her eyes at me. “I’m not great at the friends thing.”
“Hard to believe.”
“It’s true,” she says quietly. “I’ve had friends, but… My life growing up wasn’t normal.” She gives me a wry look. “I’m sure you’ve seen the papers.”
I nod.
“It’s hard to get close to people when you can’t explain what’s happening at home,” she continues. “And after Aaron, I just… pushed everyone away.”
Something tightens in my chest. I know what it’s like to carry darkness alone. To think isolation is safer than sharing the pain of what’s happening in your house.
“I’d love to stay,” I say.
Her smile is small, but I can tell she’s pleased, and that creates an unfamiliar tension in my chest.
We settle onto opposite ends of the couch, but the furniture isn’t large, so there isn’t much space between us. Sera tucks her legs beneath her, mug balanced carefully in her hands. I stretch one arm along the back cushion, deliberately casual, though every nerve in my body is tuned to her.
She selects an old action film, which is good because I don’t think I could concentrate on dialogue right now if my life depended on it. After a few minutes, she reaches for the folded blanket draped over the arm of the couch, and pulls it over her legs, then pauses, glancing at me.
“You cold?”
“A little,” I lie.
She stretches the blanket, tugging it so it covers my legs, too.
The fabric brushes my thigh, and I shift so that I’m further under it, settling next to her.
My body reacts immediately—need coiling low and insistent.
I shift subtly, grateful for the dim light and the bulk of the blanket to hide my body’s reaction.
It's like being a teenager again. Except as a teenager, I would have already tried to make a move.
I have an urge to pull her close, to feel her weight against me, and tuck her head under my chin.
Cuddling.
The word sounds absurd in my head.
I’ve never wanted that before.
Her scent drifts to me every time she moves—clean, warm, unmistakably her. It’s maddening.
As the movie approaches the climax, I’m hyper-aware of every inch of space between us, of how small that distance is and how desperately I want to cross it. My dick is straining against my zipper, and I swear I’m sweating from the effort I’m having to exert to sit here and keep my hands to myself.
“Liev,” her soft voice reaches me, and I realize she’s watching me. More accurately, she’s staring at my mouth.
She licks her lips, and I think I might literally explode.
Sera clears her throat. “Could you… um…” Her cheeks flush a beautiful rose in the low light. “Could you try to kiss me?”
“What?” I had to have heard that wrong.
Please god, don’t let me have heard that wrong.
“Never mind.” She shakes her head embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“What do you mean, try?”
“Forget it,” she whispers, cheeks blazing as she echoes my words from before.
“Sera.” I soften my voice. “We’ve carried a dead body together. Covered up a murder. If you can’t trust me, who can you trust?”
I waggle my brows, deliberately absurd, trying to lighten the tension.
She exhales hard and then says words that I think might break my heart with how defeated they sound. “I can’t kiss.”
I frown. “Are we talking technique? Because I don’t think any man would complain about your mouth being on them in any kind of capacity.”
“No,” she huffs, offended. “Not technique.”
I search her face, but I’m at a loss. “You’re going to have to spell it out for me, malyshka.”
Her jaw works. “I haven’t been able to let anyone… touch me like that, since...” Her gaze drops to the coffee table. “I’ve tried a few times, but I always freak out. Even when I tell myself it’s just a kiss. That I’m in control.”
Ice floods my veins.
I stare at her bowed head. “Did he rape you?”
Her shoulders jerk.
I close my eyes briefly, forcing my breathing to stay steady. “Aaron,” I say carefully. “Did he rape you before he threw the acid?”
“No,” she says quickly. “He never raped me.”
There’s a long beat before she continues. “But things weren’t… good… between us in that way. The night he tried to force me… It’s why I broke up with him.”
Rage simmers low and lethal in my chest, but I keep my voice even. “But you think you could kiss me?”
She doesn’t blink, the gold in her eyes sparkling against the green. I hold my breath waiting for her answer.
“Like you said. I trust you.”
Savage satisfaction surges through me, but I manage to keep my body relaxed. “Just a kiss,” I say when I trust myself to speak again.
She nods.
“Friends who kiss?” I quirk an eyebrow.
“Yes.” Her eyes cloud a little then flick to my mouth and back up again.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I can see the nerves now, threading through her resolve. “You can change your mind.”
“I want to try,” she says. “I don’t want anything from you.” She winces. “That came out wrong. I’m just trying to say I’m not going to like make this be a thing…” She gestures helplessly between us. “I thought maybe if I tried with someone I trust like an…"
“Experiment?”
Her cheeks darken. “It sounds awful when you say it like that.”
“It doesn’t,” I assure her. “Experiments are controlled.” I tilt my head, watching her carefully. “There are rules… parameters.”
Her mouth quirks despite herself. “You’re making this sound very scientific.”
I stay silent
She exhales, shoulders easing a fraction. “I just don’t want to… freak out again.”
“You won’t.” I lift a shoulder. “And if you do, we stop.”
Her gaze drops to my chest, lingers there like she’s bracing herself. “You’re okay with this? Even if you don’t get anything out of it? If it doesn’t go any further?”
You can do whatever you want to me.
“I’ll be getting plenty out of it.” I wink at her wanting to keep the mood light. “But you’re in control. You need to be the one to initiate it.”
I don’t move, giving her the space to decide. If she’s not ready, I’ll wait. I just hope it doesn’t take twelve years like it did for Declan.
She shifts closer, slow enough that I can see every micro-decision crossing her face. Her knee brushes mine again. This time, she leaves it there.
“Okay,” she whispers. She leans in tentatively, her lips brushing mine. I keep my hands loose at my sides, letting her dictate everything.
She pulls back, breath unsteady. “Is that… okay?”
“Yes,” I say, my voice rougher than I intend. “That’s perfect.”
Encouraged, she tries again. Longer this time.
Her lips are soft, pressed against mine.
I keep my eyes open watching. But when her lips slide against mine more firmly, pulling at my lower lip, the contact sends a slow, aching pulse through me, and my eyes close.
I focus on my breathing. On keeping my body relaxed.
On not reaching for her even though every instinct screams to pull her closer.
Her lips soften against mine, and her hand lifts to graze lightly over my stubble, before her hand settles on my jaw. My heart is pounding hard, and I’m not sure how much longer I can sit passively by. The restraint it’s taking not to deepen the kiss is borderline painful.
And then she sighs.
A perfect sound that slides straight down my spine. Her lips finally part, and I taste her then—faintly sweet, with the tang of the bourbon in our drinks—unmistakably Sera. Our mouths move together, until I’ve lost all concept of time.
I wait until I feel the first careful stroke of her tongue before letting my own explore her mouth. I have no idea how long we sit there kissing. My chest is burning, and my body is begging for release, but I don’t want this kiss to end.
I slide one hand to her hip and stop there. Waiting to see how she receives the contact. Sera stiffens for a second, then relaxes when I don’t move my hand or take it any further.
I break the kiss momentarily our lips still touching. “Still okay?” I rasp against her mouth.
She nods, eyes still closed.
With a quiet hum of pleasure, she kisses me again, braver now. More demanding.
I feel it everywhere. My body responds instantly, hunger flaring hot and insistent, but I force it down, reminding myself this isn’t about what I want.
This is about her. Her limits.
When she moans, my hand clamps harder on her hip, my other hand at her waist. I move before I realize it, and her muscles lock tight beneath my palms.
Fuck.
I pull back immediately, forcing my hands to drop away. Sera is flushed, breathing hard and her eyes are dark with arousal—but there’s also fear.
“Hey,” I murmur.
“I’m fine,” she insists, even though her shoulders remain rigid. “Keep going. I want to. It’s okay.”
But her body tells a different story.
“No,” I tease, shifting away from her. “You haven’t even bought me dinner yet. I’m not that easy.”
I have to hide the animal urge to snarl and rip apart the bastard who did this to her.
I comfort myself with the fact that I will find him, and I will kill him.
With an excruciatingly slow method until he’s begging me for death.
The Kovalyov reach across the globe is impressive. He won’t be able to hide.
Frustration and arousal war on Sera’s face. I have to look away from her swollen lips before I break.
“This was a good start. I’m happy to be your test subject whenever you want to experiment, but I should go.”
My body is screaming at me to get back on that couch. She says she wants this, the selfish beast inside me hisses. You’ve never denied yourself before.
It’s almost too much temptation.
But my brain overrules my instincts. Despite what her mouth says, she isn’t ready, and I can’t mess up with her. Not if I want to keep her.
Drawing on a level of patience and self-restraint that I’ve never had before, I make myself walk away.
“Liev,” she calls as I get to the door. “I’ll talk to Brady. It shouldn’t be a problem.”