Page 65 of Twisted Little Game

In Russian, I used to say it sometimes, in an unserious way. Always to women, and even to some women who weren’t all that beautiful, but I liked them just as much.

It was more about someone’s heart than their looks for me, always.

I’m too sleepy to be speaking with Tate while I’m like this.

I’ve come too much.

Thought of him too much.

Everything is such a blur, and I need it to sharpen.

Back in my room, he gets in my bed without saying much else to me. He’s apparently docile after he comes, and I expected him to cause trouble, but right now he is the angelic version of Tate, not the unruly animal.

I lay back down on the floor, and my spine relaxes over the gentle pressure of the blankets below.

“Roman,” his low voice comes through the air many minutes later, once I was actually starting to drift off.

“Yes? I’m here,” I say quickly, my voice heavy with sleep.

“Shit. Were you asleep?”

“Mmm. Talk, sweet.”

No.

Don’t call him that, or beauty, or any fucking thing like that.

Sleepy is so much worse than drunk.

“I just wanted to tell you that I decided I’m not scared when I’m with you,” Tate says. “Well, I'm not really scared ever, which might make me dumb, but I definitely was earlier when I was in the car with you and Maks.”

“Sorry. I am… not a good man.”

“But I’m not scared to be with you anymore.”

I grumble, sliding over on my pillow until I feel a cooler part, desiring sleep more strongly than ever.

“Is that the power of my cock?” I mumble. “Take ten inches, then I’m not so scary?”

His laugh is deep and genuine. It’s contagious, making me smile softly in the dark.

“Fuck off,” he murmurs. “Cocky motherfucker.”

“Yes. That is me.”

“Good night. And full disclosure, if I have a nightmare, I’m coming down there to cuddle you, even if you choke me out for it.”

I’m too tired to give anything but a grumble in response.

If I had the energy, I would get up and lean over the bed to choke him right now for joking about it.

And you would love that, wouldn’t you?

My hand at your throat, while you overwhelm my mind.

We don’t talk much the following day.

Classes are getting toward their first big round of exams, and we fall into a rhythm for the next week.