Chapter Twenty-Two
9 MONTHS EARLIER, MOSCOW
Our lips crash together like rogue waves colliding, all violence and pent-up fury. He’s angry with me, and I’m angry with myself, with this weakness of mine that propels me toward a man I should do everything in my power to escape. I didn’t have to be here tonight. I didn’t have to be anywhere near him, yet I came of my own volition. And not just to offer my condolences.
I came to see him.
After years of encountering him only in pictures and videos, I’ve grown hungry for this. For him. For feeling like I’m not just surviving but living.
His tongue sweeps into my mouth as my nails dig into his skull, my fingers convulsively gripping his hair, and my eyes squeeze shut as body catches fire, instant arousal drenching my underwear and hardening m
