And considering I don’t expect to see Nikolai or Uri today, it seems like the perfect time to stretch my wings.
The first kiss of water on my skin is borderline orgasmic. Dipping all the way under is like transporting myself to a different world. Down here, it’s all aqua-tinged beams of sunlight and bubbles rising up in frothy columns. It’s quiet and cool and there’s no violence here.
Just peace. Just calm. Just bliss.
It’s when I come back up that I remember my problems are all still waiting for me.
So I duck back down again. Then up. Then down. I spend the better part of the evening in the pool, alternating between periods of relaxed contentment below the surface and periods of complete guilt above it. I hate that I have the option of floating around the pool all day while Polly is God knows where with God knows whom.
By the time darkness settles, I’ve had my fill of swimming. I’m pruny on my fingers and toes, though a half-hour basking on a lounge chair has me mostly dry.
I’m padding my reluctant way back to the jail cell when my stomach growls. It’s only then that I remember I haven’t eaten since this morning’s breakfast cereal sommelier experience with Lev.
The house is empty and the staff seems intent on avoiding me—per Uri’s orders, I’m sure—so I figure it’s safe to duck into the kitchen and grab something to eat before heading back downstairs again. Honestly, though, I’ll do anything to postpone going down to the basement.
In the kitchen, I whip a sandwich together and shovel half of it down without even bothering to take a seat. I’m waiting for my post-meal cup of herbal tea to finish steeping when I hear footsteps.
Very heavy, very ominous, very recognizable footsteps.
Oh, no.
A second later, Uri shows up at the threshold. He freezes instantly when he sees me. He scans me up and down. I’m instantly longing for my sweatpants and hoodie again.
Not that I should feel embarrassed. My body is changing because of his babies.
“Hi. I, um… I was just getting myself some dinner,” I say, with a blush pink enough to blend into my bikini.
He raises his eyebrows. “In your underwear?”
I frown. “This is a swimsuit.”
“The difference is lost on me.”
This is not a hill I’m willing to die on. I clear my throat. “Would you like something to eat? I made myself a sandwich and I can’t finish it all.” He looks reluctant, so I add, “I promise I didn’t poison it.”
His brow furrows. “Fine.”
I take a step out of his way as he walks over to the kitchen island. He’s a sight to see today. Dark charcoal suit, his hair all tousled and wind-swept. Just glancing at him gives me palpitations. All these baby hormones are certainly not helping.
He sits down on one of the bar stools and I put my tea down. I’m painfully aware of how much skin I’m showing. An hour ago, it felt like freedom. Now, it feels like my body is writing checks that my mouth can’t cash.
“Actually, forget the sandwich,” he says abruptly. “Bring me the bottle of vodka from the liquor cabinet over there.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Bad day?”
All he does is grunt in response and look down at his phone. He looks gaunter than I remember. Still handsome, of course, but gaunt. He’s got the hollowed-out cheekbones and dark circles under his eyes that make him the kind of guy a vampire franchise would kill to cast as their leading man.
I bite my bottom lip—because those dark circles are my fault. Those bloodshot eyes are my fault. The fact that he can’t seem to be there for Lev is my fault, too, and I can’t even be mad at him for any of it. He’s doing his best to be there for everybody. It’s no wonder he’s spread himself too thin.
“Thanks, by the way,” I mumble. “For letting me out of the basement.”
He doesn’t so much as glance up from his phone. “Mm” is his only response.
He might be doing it deliberately. Punishing me with his indifference, his lack of interest. This is the first time I’m seeing him since Dr. Grigory confirmed my pregnancy and told us that I was having twins.
But Uri makes no mention of it. He doesn’t even seem to notice my belly.
Of course, the moment I turn my back on him and walk towards the cabinet where the glasses are stored, I can feel his eyes on me, hot and scathing. I glance towards the microwave embedded into the wall and as I do, I catch his reflection on the surface.
His face is shadowy. But those eyes… they’re brighter than ever.
Swallowing hard, I grab a glass and the bottle of vodka and walk it back to the center island. I pour him a serving and pass it over. The whole time, I feel his eyes following my every movement.
“Here you go,” I say, setting it down in front of him.
I’m so close that the side of my breast brushes against his arm. He flinches as though I’ve just electrocuted him. When I glance down, I realize with a jolt that he’s hard.
He follows my eyes and sees what I’m looking at. Then his entire face changes. That intense heat in his eyes goes ice-cold like he flipped a switch. His jaw clenches tight, sealing up that tempting sliver of darkness between his lips.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters under his breath as he shoves himself off the stool hard enough for it to tip and go clattering on the ground.
I cringe and cower away instinctively. He looks so impossibly huge, rising up above me like that with his eyes stormy and his fists balled up tight.
For one wild moment, I think he’s going to kiss me.
His eyes churn with conflict. And just when I think he’s about to lean in, he storms off, leaving his drink untouched on the counter in front of me.
17
URI
What does she think she’s playing at?
It’s a rhetorical question. It’s pretty obvious what Alyssa is trying to do. Seduce me with those hazel bright eyes of hers. Lure me in with those seductive lips and the curves of her changing body. Her breasts have at least doubled in size since I last saw them.
Or felt them…
Fuck.
I’ve been pacing for twenty minutes since retreating into my office and my erection still hasn’t gone down. It looks like it’s not going to budge until I do something about it.
I lean over the desk and grip the side as I unzip my pants to release my cock. When I do, it jumps out eagerly, clearly having missed the memo that Alyssa is completely off-limits now.
This is not good. Not good at all.
When I agreed to give her freedom of the house, this is not what I’d had in mind. The point was to run into her sometimes, sure. But it was going to be on my terms. I was the one who would call the shots. I was the one who would have control.
But considering I’m leaning over my desk now with my cock in my hand, that plan seems dead on arrival.
“Fuck,” I growl ferociously as I start pumping at my dick while trying simultaneously to push her out of my head.