Aleks locks the door and turns to me. I’m already backed up in the furthest corner of the bathroom with my hands clutching the edges of the sink.
One step—that’s all it takes for him to be right in front of me.
His hands find my hips while his eyes explore my body. Despite the big shirt and the oversized woolen sweater I’m wearing, he still manages to make me feel… desired. Craved. Like there isn’t enough money or violence in the world to make him tear his gaze off of me.
When was the last time I felt like that?
Just like the rest of my scattered thoughts, those questions vanish when he grabs the hem of the sweater and pulls it off. He discards it on what is probably a not-so-clean bathroom floor. Even though it’s my favorite sweater, I let him.
I’m pretty sure I’d let him do whatever
