Chapter Twenty-seven
Alessia
After the call with my mother ended, I held the phone to my chest, letting the warmth settle in my heart. Her voice was a thread connecting me to the life I was torn from. Hearing her voice reminded me of home, a place I missed.
The house was silent when I stepped back inside. I looked around, half expecting to see Doctor Dorothy, but she was nowhere to be found. She probably came to bring me the clothes. I stared at the phone in my hand. I had to return it.
My conversation with my mother was long, filled with soft reassurances and minor questions. I even asked about Vivo. She told me not to worry about anything. The dog was okay. Now, the least I could do was to give the phone back and thank Rodion for letting me use it for that long.
Since he was nowhere in sight, I figured he would be in his room. Once he stepped out, I would return his phone. Until then, I had to clean up the plates I used earlier.
As I entered the kitchen, the phone vibrated in my hand. I paused and looked down. Dmitri’s name flashed across the screen, and a cold knot twisted in my stomach. Knowing he was Rodion’s brother and that his call could mean something important, I made my way to Rodion’s room.
I knocked and waited. The phone went silent, only to ring again. I reached for the knob, my fingers curling around the cool metal before I gave it a slow, careful twist.
The door creaked open as I pushed it, revealing a quiet room. A faint glow spilled from the laptop screen resting on the bedside table. He was probably in the bathroom. I stepped inside and placed the phone beside the laptop.
Heading to the door, I reached for the knob and froze when the bathroom door creaked open. As soon as I looked in that direction, I regretted it.
Rodion stood by the doorway, a towel hanging low on his hips as water trailed down his skin.
Heat from the shower clung to him, casting a warm sheen that made it impossible to look away.
Damp strands of hair clung to his forehead, the rest slicked back in careless defiance.
My eyes followed the ridges of his abdomen. He looked like sin wrapped in muscle.
A thin scar etched above his hip caught my eye. It wasn’t fresh, but it reminded me of what Doctor Dorothy said earlier. Rodion was in a critical condition and in need of a kidney.
His slight movement snapped me out of my thoughts. Warmth rushed to my cheeks as I averted my gaze and pushed the door. It refused to open. I muffled a curse and hit the door, shaking it a little, but it didn’t budge.
“Why are you running?” he asked.
My fingers tightened around the handle as if that would save me. Slowly, I faced him. He was still standing there, watching me quietly.
“The phone,” I blurted. “I was returning the phone.”
Rodion watched me like I was the most amusing thing he had seen all day. His arms crossed over his chest, water still sliding down his skin like it had every right to be there.
“Get over here,” he said. “And touch the parts you were ogling.”
My throat dried. Heat spread from the base of my neck, racing across my face and down my body. My eyes fell. “I wasn’t. I was…” The words abandoned me. “I was staring.”
He raised a brow. “Clearly.”
“No, I mean, I was staring at the scar.” I pointed to the mark just above his hip. “That scar. Nothing else. So… excuse me.”
Turning back to the door, I tried the knob. Why, of all days, was the damn door not opening?
“Do you need help?”
A gasp slipped out. He was behind me. “No. I think it’s just stuck.” I kicked it. “Damn door.”
Rodion leaned in, his chest pressing against my back. His one hand settled over mine on the knob. I stopped moving, unsure if I was breathing. The towel did nothing to hide the hardness pressed against my ass. He was doing this on purpose.
His lips brushed against the shell of my ear. “You should pull, Little Gem. Pull the door.”
“Oh,” I swallowed. “Pull … yes.” My voice came out smaller than I wanted. “Thank you. I didn’t realize that.”
Yet I couldn’t move. His hand stayed locked around mine. The other slid to my waist, fingers moving slowly, tracing downward until they rested over my stomach. The touch sent a rush through me, like he was trying to claim every inch of me. With one smooth motion, he spun me.
He was too close, too real, too impossible to ignore.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked.
“What?” I whispered.
“Touch every part you stared at.”
“Sir, I didn’t do it intentionally.”
“Neither did I.” He pulled me closer. “Should I start?”
My lips parted slightly. “Sorry?”
Rodion raised his hand and dragged his thumb across my lower lip. When I didn’t flinch, he pressed harder, parting my lips before slipping his thumb inside. His gaze didn’t waver. “This is how you touch what you’ve been eyeing,” he said. “Should I move on to the next part?”
The air was too thick for me to breathe. His hand moved from my mouth down to my neck, slow and rough, like he wanted to memorize the texture of my skin.
He brushed the top of my cleavage, and instinct kicked in. I grabbed his hand, stopping him.
“Sir, I … I was just leaving.”
“You’re always too slow,” he said, eyes flicking to my lips before locking with mine again. The tension curled in the space between us. We stared in silence for a few seconds before he crashed his mouth against mine.
He wasn’t gentle. It was a claim. His hand gripped the back of my neck, holding me in place as his lips moved over mine with heat and hunger. He kissed like a man who didn’t ask but took. When he tried to push his tongue against my lips, I sank my teeth into his lower lip.
That got him to pause. A low, dark chuckle rose from his chest, as if it amused him. I panted, eyes flicking to the thin line of blood on his lip, then back to the fire in his gaze. The bite didn’t stop him. If anything, it stirred something deeper.
“That’s how I like it,” he declared, voice rough with desire, and crashed his mouth onto mine again.
This time, he forced me to taste his blood. His hands dropped from my waist, sliding down to my thighs before he gripped them and lifted me. My legs wrapped around him as he carried me without stopping the kiss.
The moment my back hit the bed, his towel dropped. My breath stilled on realizing he was completely naked. I broke off the kiss, trying hard not to look down at his cock.
Knowing the ruin behind his touch, the fire in his blood, I shouldn’t be under him. I tilted my head, avoiding the hunger in his eyes, and pressed both palms to his chest.
“I should go.”
He didn’t stop me as I slid off the bed.
Awkwardness chased every step as I stumbled to the door.
This time, I pulled, and it opened without resistance.
I stepped out and ran to my room, locking the door behind me.
My back hit the wood, and I tried to breathe, chest rising and falling like I had outrun something dangerous within me.
Because if he had stopped me, I would have let him take me.