“No, he wouldn't have anything like that.”
“Did you look? You never know.”
“Um, actually, I think of all people, I would know.”
“Gross, I hate when you remind me.”
“You're the one who used to have pow-wows to literally discuss the sex he and I had.”
“Gross, I hate when you remind me.”
Katya grabbed the pillow next to her and swiveled around, smacking it across his face. He went to hold up a hand, but she continued to beat him with the goose down cushion. She got in a couple more good licks before he was able to grab her wrists. They struggled for a moment, her trying to make him eat the pillow, when he was able to shove her back onto the bed and hold her down.
“It hasn't been long enough for you to be cute about it,” she growled at him.
“You make smart ass comments about it all the time,” Liam pointed out, laughing as she struggled against him to no avail.
“I'm allowed to, I'm the injured party,” she replied.
“You can only milk that for so long.”
“I think I have a little longer.”
“God, angel cake,” he sighed, and she stopped moving. “I missed you so much.”
Katya swallowed thickly, trying not to notice the look in his eyes as they wandered over her face and chest.
“Should've thought about that before,” she replied in a soft voice.
“Hmmm. Do you ever think about it? Us?” he asked. She took a deep breath.
“More often than you could possibly imagine.”
“You know, I thought it would be fun, sneaking around in here,” he started. “Getting to see into Wulf's private world, and him not knowing I was here with you.”
“Knowing that whenever you see him, he'll have no idea you did something that would piss him off,” Katya laughed.
“Yeah. But now that we're in here, I have another idea,” he said.
“And what's that?”
“Imagine how pissed off he'd be if we had sex in his bed.”
Katya held still. On the one hand, he was completely right. Wulf would lose his goddamn mind. Probably kill them both, then burn his bed. On the other hand, she was never going to have sex with Liam. But on yet another hand, it was very empowering having Liam begging her for sex again. And one last hand – she could still use this situation to her advantage.
“Mmmm, that would be kinda hot,” she agreed, shifting around underneath him so he could settle in between her legs.
“Seriously?” he was understandably shocked.
“I hadn't thought about that. Was this your plan, get me up here and have sex?” she asked, stretching her arms above her head. He was still holding onto her wrists, so he moved with the stretch, laying flat on top of her.
“No, but it's seeming like a really, really good idea.”
“It would be so crazy,” she breathed, lifting her head so her lips brushed against his as she spoke. “Can you imagine his face? When you tell him you fucked me in here?”
“I really don't want to imagine his face right now.”
“Not to mention,” she sighed, moving so her mouth was trailing down the side of his neck. “It's been a long time since you and I had sex together.”
“A loooong time, angel cake.”
“So long, I can barely remember.”
“I could never forget.”
“Really?” she whispered, slipping her wrists free of him and running her hands down his chest. “I find that surprising.”
“Why?” he whispered back, his lips at her ear. She took a deep breath.
“Cause you've already forgotten what I said yesterday,” she stated in a loud voice. He gave a start at the abrupt shift in tone, and she used that against him. She shoved hard at his chest, catching him off guard. With a shout, he fell to the side, bounced on the mattress, then slid to the floor with a thump.
“Jesus, Katya!” he snapped, rubbing his head where it connected with the baseboard.
“I told you – I'm not sleeping with you. What about that is so hard to get?” she said, climbing off the bed and straightening out her clothes.
“Now that I know that statement is backed up with physical violence, I'll be sure to keep my hands to myself,” he grumbled, glaring up at her.
She laughed and left the room. She was still chuckling to herself, flipping her hair over her shoulder, when she thought she heard something. She went still in the living room, standing next to a huge stone coffee table that sat in front of the over-stuffed sofa. A jingling sound, near the door.
That would be keys. In a lock. Turning it.
“Oh my god!” she hissed. “Liam! Liam! What -”
The front door swung open and for a brief moment, Katya thought about making a break for it. Considered running down the hallway, locking herself in the bathroom, climbing out the tiny window, and shimmying down a drainpipe to freedom. But knowing her luck, she'd trip halfway down the hall way and knock out her front tooth or something. So she took a deep breath, stood up straight, and tried her best to act nonchalant.
Wulf came out of the entry way. He was holding a stack of mail in his hands, shuffling through the envelopes. A long, felt jacket was slung over one arm. He didn't look up as he moved, and was almost into his kitchen before he even realized someone was in his apartment. He stopped and stared at her for what felt like forever.
“Hello,” he finally said in a simple voice. She smiled big.
“Hi.”
“How are you?” he asked, setting his jacket and mail on the back of the sofa before walking around it.
“Good, good. And you? How was work?” she asked in return, sliding her hands into her back pockets. He moved until he was standing in front of her, the coffee table the only thing separating them.
“Same as always, busy. Tiresome.”
He loosened his tie and slipped it free of its knot, tossing the length of silk onto the table. Next he slid out of his suit jacket, laying it carefully on the arm of the couch.
“You work too much. You should take a vacation,” she suggested. He nodded while he undid his cuff links, rolling his shirtsleeves up to his elbows.
“I should. I suppose it's safe to assume you'd take care of my place while I'm gone.”
“Of course. So,” she took another deep breath, looking around the apartment. “Would you like a drink, or something?”
“Tocci.”
“Sandwich?”
“What the fuck are you doing here? Breaking and entering is a crime, you know,” he told her. She rolled her eyes.
“Please, I didn't break into anywhere. This is trespassing, or unlawful entry, at worst,” she replied.
“I'm sure the police could easily explain the difference to us,” he said, finally moving around the coffee table and stopping right in front of her. She smiled up at him, batting her eyelashes.
“Oh, c'mon, you wouldn't have me locked up,” she said in a sweet voice. He frowned.
“Sometimes I think keeping you under lock and key is a great idea. Seriously, Tocci. What are you doing here? How did you get in?”