Page 30 of Lord of Pain
What kind of a sick freak gets turned on looking at a hired killer's ass? Me, I am that sick freak.
Roman, unaware of the profound battle for my self-control, plates the meal, and puts it in front of me. He takes another bowl from the fridge and adds a dollop of sour cream, adding it to my feast. "This is borscht, cold beet soup. This luscious dish is Salmon Coulibiac, salmon in puff pastry with rice, mushrooms and eggs." The pastry is fluffy and golden, and the heavenly smell of salmon makes me stifle a groan.
"It's the most perfect thing in this room, aside from your exquisite…" Roman's eyes are fixed on my chest. "Exquisite personality," he finishes smoothly. He pours me a glass of wine and gets a tumbler of vodka for himself, before leaning against the sink, watching me eat.
His steady gaze makes me realize I'm gobbling the salmon like a raccoon in a dumpster and I try to slow down. "Um, so what were you up to tonight? Can I ask?"
"Oh, a little of this, a little of that." He gives me his devil's smile again. "I stopped by Sinful Secrets to get an update from my manager. We have a sex auction coming up this weekend and two new experts giving demonstrations on bondage, and another on erotic piercings."
I pause, my fork halfway to my mouth. "What, like nipple piercings?"
Roman chuckles, a raspy little dark laugh that's doing nothing to ease my clamoring lower half. "Oh, sweet Violet, that's just the beginning."
I stuff my forkful of salmon in my mouth to keep from blurting something stupid, like, "Please ravish me here on the counter right now. I mean, after I put the salmon away. I'd be needing that later."
"Is there anything else that you have to sign off on tonight?"
"For the shelter? Yeah payroll. I'll grab it in a minute."
"Don't get up," he says. "Where is it? I'll bring it in."
I'm blissfully savoring the rich taste of the borscht, the cold meaty bite of the beets with the sharp tang of the sour cream. "On the right corner of the desk," I sigh. He gives another low chuckle before leaving the kitchen. I barely notice because I'm having a mini food orgasm and I'm not going to interrupt this moment because this is as close to the real thing that I've had in years..
Five minutes later, Roman returns with a pile of folders, still straightening the papers. "A couple of forms fell off the desk, so I put everything back together," he says. "I think I've got it. This just needs your signature on the bottom of each form, right?" He puts my wine glass in my right hand and a pen in my left. "I'll hold the paper steady," he says, humor still painfully evident in his tone. "Just sip and sign, baby, and then you're done for the night."
I'm just tired enough that my anal-retentive nature is stuffed in the trunk, pounding with a shrill voice for me to obsess andovercorrect. I ignore it as I sign, enjoying the crisp taste of the red wine on my tongue.
"Good girl." Roman's tone is soothing, his mouth close to my ear, intimate. "Just three more forms." I finish signing, and he straightens the papers with a click on the granite countertop. "I'll put these back on your desk," he says. "Finish your dinner." He lightly kneads the back of my neck before he leaves, and I rest my cheek on my wine glass for a moment, enjoying the foreign sensation of being carried for.
Chapter Thirteen
In which only a man like Roman can get an erection while he’s in a cold plunge tub.
Roman…
"What in the hell are you doing?"
I pause in my examination of the ice cubes floating in the water to see Violet standing in the side door, looking horrified, as if she's witnessing me disemboweling a goat.
"I'm taking a cold plunge," I say tightly. It would be unmanly to have chattering teeth. Violet's wearing a soft little tank top and sleep shorts and I could be sitting in a block of ice and my cock would still be trying to get hard.
"Why would you do that?"
"It helps with circulation and muscle tone." I say spreading my arms across the back of the tub. I'd been ready to get out, but now that she's standing there, I'm unwilling to move, no matter how interested my cock is in the soft curve of her breasts. I'm naked and thanks to the ice water, any display is bound to be unflattering.
"I thought that was a myth," she says, "like how saunas prevent Alzheimer's and drinking molasses cures cancer." She's looking distinctly concerned for my well-being.
"What are you doing up?" I ask.
"Oh, I always get up at this hour," she says. "Make some coffee, go through my paperwork before heading into the office, and –"
Violet's shoulders droop, and I despise that my immediate reaction is my lizard brain shouting,"Fix it! Fix whatever is making the woman sad! Make the woman happy!"
"I'm sorry that you can't go into the shelter," I say gently. "You do understand why. Is it worth going to the shelter if you're risking your safety or that of your sisters?"
"Oh, don't worry about them." She still can't take her eyes off my chest, and her gaze keeps sinking lower before she forces herself to focus on my face. My cold plunge tub is on the brick terrace just outside the mudroom. She must've seen me through the kitchen door. "The real challenge here," she says, "is going to be getting Iris and Rose crowbar-ed out of this house once it's safe. They're in heaven. Unlimited gourmet food, your theater room, and endless attractive, tattooed man to torment."
Violet leans against the doorway, arms folded, pushing her breasts higher, which I appreciate. "Whatdidyou tell your guards, by the way? No matter what my tag team of twins from hell do, I've noticed your men have a strict hands-off policy."
