Page 96 of Ruthless Sin
Tonight.
I put the dress on. It slides over my skin, cool and soft. The chain sits against my throat underneath. I brush my hair until it’s smooth.
I don’t look at the mirror. I know what I look like in this dress. That’s not why I put it on.
The folding knife stays on the dresser.
The hallway is quiet.
My heart is beating in my throat the whole length of the hallway. The wood doesn’t creak under my feet. I’m glad for that.
I reach his door.
It’s open an inch.
I don’t stand in the doorway. Not tonight.
I push it open and walk in.
He’s in the chair by the window. The Pushkin is open in his lap. White shirt, black pants, watch on his right wrist. The sleeves are rolled to his elbows. The lamp casts shadows across his face.
He looks up.
He sees the dress.
He sets the Pushkin down slowly. His hands are very steady. His face doesn’t change.
He stands.
I cross the room.
I cross all the way to him. I don’t wait for him to reach for me first.
I put my left hand on his chest over the shirt. Slide it up to the side of his throat. Then to his face. My thumb on his cheekbone. My fingers in his hair at his temple.
The heat of him burns through my palm.
His hands stay at his sides.
Low. The first thing he says.
“Ty uverena?”Are you sure?
I don’t answer with words.
I nod.
He closes his eyes for one second. When he opens them, his hands rise slow and find my hips.
“Mila.”
I kiss him.
His mouth opens under mine. His tongue against mine. His right hand goes to the back of my head. His left stays on my hip.
I pull back.
I reach for the buttons of his shirt.
