Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
So the boy was a homo. Now it made sense why Vlad felt on edge around him.
Sneering, Vlad waited for Roman to shove the faggot away and punch him in the mouth.
Except Roman kissed back, his hands settling on Luke’s ass.
What the fuck.
What the actual fuck.
When Roman pushed the boy onto the mattress and crawled on top of him, Vlad closed the live feed and stared blankly at the dark screen.
He’d known something was off when Roman had stopped fucking around, but he would’ve never guessed this after the scolding he’d received from Roman for being a little distracted by that faggot.
Goddamn hypocrite, Vlad thought darkly, a tight feeling coiling in the pit of his stomach.
Chapter 14
One month later
Rubbing his face against the coarse hair on Roman’s wide chest, Luke wondered how it was possible to feel this good with a man who was the definition of Mr. Wrong.
It was kind of freaky how sexually compatible he and Roman were. It wasn’t like Luke’s previous sexual experiences were bad—far from it—but this was something else. This was the sort of attraction that made him feel almost high when Roman touched him, and sex-starved when Roman didn’t. It was heady. It was scary. It was scary how well Roman could read his body and play it like an instrument: he was bossy when Luke wanted to be owned and ordered around, he was gentle and understanding when Luke needed cuddles and snuggles, and he was deliciously cruel and scary when Luke was in the mood to pretend he didn’t want it (with Roman, he always wanted it).
The scariest part was, it went both ways. Luke was just as attuned to Roman. When Roman was in a black mood, Luke found himself turning pliant and extremely submissive, letting Roman mark him and take out his frustration on him—and getting off on it. He got off on pleasing Roman, which was…yeah, probably pretty messed up.
The most messed up part, though, was that he couldn’t even claim that he was in any way being taken advantage of or lied to. Roman didn’t pretend to be anything he wasn’t. Luke didn’t suddenly start thinking Roman was just a misunderstood good man. Roman wasn’t a good man; Luke was perfectly aware of it, yet it didn’t change how insanely attracted to him he was.
“You’re evil,” he mumbled into Roman’s chest. “How do you turn me into such a nympho?”
He felt more than heard Roman’s laugh. “It’s not my fault you’re a kinky little shit, kudryashka.”
“What does that mean?” Luke muttered, not bothering to deny the kinky little shit part. “I don’t know that word.” It sounded like an endearment. Luke hoped it wasn’t an endearment. Roman’s tendency to use endearments he didn’t mean wasn’t endearing at all.
Roman tugged at his hair. “It means ‘curly.’ Or close enough.”
Great. So another mock endearment.
“I’m starting to think you have a thing for my hair,” Luke said.
“Whatever gave you that idea?” Roman said, running his hand through his curls.
They fell into a silence that shouldn’t have been so comfortable.
“Have you ever killed anyone?” Luke murmured, trailing his fingers down Roman’s muscular arm.
“I have,” Roman replied.
A shiver ran up Luke’s spine. Roman’s answer didn’t surprise him, per se—he would have been more surprised if the reply was negative—but the calmness with which Roman spoke about it was fucking scary.
Luke eyed the tattoo on Roman’s arm, a single word in Russian: “Помни.” It meant “Remember.” Luke didn’t know the story behind the tattoo, but it seemed like good advice for him: he must never forget what this man was capable of.
“Do you mean personally or by giving an order?” Luke said.
“There’s a difference?” Roman said, his voice very dry. “A kill is a kill, no matter whose hands do the actual deed. But to answer your question: both.”
Luke traced his fingers lower, to Roman’s hand. A hand that killed someone. A hand that could reduce him to a quivering, mindless creature with the slightest touch.
“Is it hard?” Luke said. “To end someone’s life?”
“Sometimes,” Roman said after a moment. “But most people I killed were scums so I didn’t lose sleep over it. Besides, I worked for the FSB at the time, so the kills were perfectly legal.” For some reason, his tone turned almost mocking at the word ‘legal.’
“FSB?” Luke asked.
“The Federal Security Service,” Roman clarified.
“KGB’s successor?” Luke asked.
“Yes.”
Luke frowned, trying to remember everything he knew about Russian military agencies. Wasn’t the Russian president heavily involved with the FSB about ten years ago?
“Is this where you know the President from?” Luke said.
“Among other things,” Roman replied before murmuring, “Liubopytnoi Varvare…”
Luke looked up at him. “What?”
“An old Russian proverb,” Roman said, his blue eyes glinting with amusement. “Basically means the same thing as ‘Curiosity killed the cat.’ A very wise proverb, don’t you think?”