Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 31818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
“Do you want to eat on the way home or make something?” Nikolai asks when we get into the car.
“I’ll get something at home. I’m sure you have places to be.” Nikolai never sticks around the house. It shouldn't bother me—it's not my business—but it does. He always knows what I'm up to.
“I’ll stop and get you something,” he says, once again avoiding my comment. I roll my eyes and turn my head to stare out the window.
“I don’t understand you, Nikolai. You do and say all these things to me, but every time I try to get to know you, you shut me down. You gloss right over my questions.” I had planned to give him the silent treatment on the way back home, but my frustration with him has obviously gotten the best of me.
“There are some things you’re better off not knowing.” I fold my arms over my chest and keep my eyes trained out the window. “What do you want to eat?”
“Not hungry.” It’s not a lie. My stomach is in knots now.
“I’ll pick—”
“I’ll eat at home. I have leftover lasagna I made for dinner last night,” I snap at him. “You’d know that if you came to dinner once in a while.”
Emma, who takes care of Matteo’s homes but usually stays out at the house, told me I was going to put her out of a job. She was only joking, but it made me feel good to see how much everyone enjoyed my cooking.
“Riley.”
“Please don’t.” I cut him off before he can say more. For once, he actually does what I ask. The rest of the ride home is silent. The second the elevator doors open, I bolt off, heading straight for my bedroom. I’m thankful that my sister isn’t home tonight. She’s good at reading me and would be all over me if she saw me.
I kick my shoes off when I enter my room, dropping my bag on the floor before I throw myself onto the bed. Nikolai is slowly driving me insane. I’m not sure I can take much more of it. Not wanting to think about what he might be up to tonight, I grab my Kindle on my nightstand and find something to read.
Not that it helps. All my thoughts always go right back to Nikolai.
15
NIKOLAI
Irun my fingers through my hair, frustrated. How do I always screw things up with Riley? I’m terrible at this shit. I remove the dish from the oven and place some of the lasagna in a bowl. I take a bite. It’s fucking delicious. Of course it is. Everything Riley does is perfect. That’s the crux of my problem: She’s too good for me.
It takes me a few minutes to find the serving tray. I grab a couple of drinks before I head for Riley’s bedroom. When I enter, I don’t see her. Before I can call out to her, she comes strolling out of the bathroom, her red hair piled on top of her head, and her cheeks rosy from the shower she just took.
“Hey.”
“And that’s what I’m talking about.” I nod at her, setting the tray down.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” She strolls right past me, climbing onto her bed.
“I shouldn’t be here.”
“The door is right there.” She points at it.
“Not going anywhere.” I sit down on the bed next to her. My hand goes to her bare thigh, wanting to touch her. I expect her to push me away, but she doesn’t. I can see some of her anger toward me starting to dissipate.
“What did you mean when you said that's what you were talking about?”
“Your shirt.” Riley only has an oversized shirt on.
“What about it?”
“Like your gym clothes.” Her eyes narrow on me again.
“I’m sorry I don’t prance around gym class in only a sports bra and booty shorts.”
“Yeah, that would never fucking happen.”
“See! You’re so confusing!” She throws her hands up.
“What’s confusing? Your damn gym shirt hangs all the way past your shorts, making it look like you're not wearing anything but the shirt. That if I slip my hand up your thigh—” I do exactly that. I trail my fingers up her soft inner thigh. No matter how many times I tell myself I’m gonna be good and leave her be, I can’t resist her. Whenever I’m near her, I want to touch her. “That I’d find your panties.” Riley lets out a small gasp when I use my knuckle to stroke her clit through her panties.
“Nikolai,” she breathes out.
“You got the white panties on.” I lick my lips, thinking about tasting her again. “Fucking love those.” I keep dragging my knuckle back and forth slowly, not giving her enough pressure to get off but enough to tease. I want her to be needy for it. Needy for me. God knows I am for her.