overshadowed the green of his eyes. "Every fucking time. Never in my life has this happened to me. It drives me crazy that I cannot get enough of you." He kissed me again, his lips hard and demanding. Kova devoured me with a ferocity unlike ever before.
I pulled back and attempted to regain some semblance of control. "Kova?"
"Hmm?" He nuzzled my neck, his facial hair scraping my tender flesh.
"Do you think you could refrain from calling Katja malysh? At least in front of me?"
His head popped up and he looked me square in the eyes. For a moment, I thought he was going to lash out and reject my request.
"Only if you promise to never bring her up again when we're alone."
I smiled, but it didn't reach my eyes. The situation was a disaster—depraved and immoral and everything right at the wrong time.
"How will I know if you keep your promise?"
He looked at me. "You just have to trust me." Kova swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing slowly. "Adrianna?"
My head tilted to the side. "Yes?
Kova's nostrils flared and his chest rose faster and higher. Just as he opened his mouth, he was cut off.
"Hey."
Both of our heads snapped toward the sound of Hayden's voice. We were so lost in each other neither of us heard him walk through the door. Kova cleared his throat and stepped away, putting distance between us. I jumped down from the counter.
"Hayden," I welcomed. Coming to stand next to us, he eyed Kova with a sickening stare.
Drenched in sweat, Hayden's clothes stuck to him. He must've ran hard. Reaching behind his head, he pulled off his shirt, eyes still trained on Kova. I watched in fascination as a drop of sweat slid over a pointed nipple, down each ridge of his rock-hard abs, and come to a stop at the waistband of his shorts. I tilted my head to the side. Funny, I hadn't noticed the narrow strip of sandy colored hair that disappeared into his shorts until now. My mind began to wander, and I was curious to see how far down it led.
A low growl caught my attention, and I looked over. Kova glared at me, his astute eyes not pleased with me assessing Hayden.
"I think it's time for you to go," Hayden said, stepping closer. Kova glared at him for a long minute before dipping his chin in agreement. "And you might want to take some ice with you," Hayden suggested. Then he turned to me and said, "I'm going to take a shower." I nodded.
I glanced at Kova's swollen lip. Hayden had gotten him good. It would leave a mark for a few days. As I pulled opened the freezer door, Kova placed a hand on me.
"No need. I will see you tomorrow," he said.
"How will you explain it to Katja?"
He gave me a look, one that said I already negated my promise not to mention her. Embarrassed, I looked away, trying to hide my timid smile and followed him through my living room.
Kova turned to look at me when we reached the front door. His intoxicating eyes trained on my mouth. He bent down and pulled me flush against him. I stood on my tiptoes and closed my eyes as his delicious scent invaded my senses. His lips brushed my cheek while he brokenly whispered, "Lyubov' ne to, chto vy mozhete ponyat', eto to, chto vy chuvstvuyete v svoyem serdtse. Net slov, eto prosto tak."
I opened my eyes and looked at him, wanting so desperately to know what he'd just said but afraid to ask. I knew whatever he spoke in Russian he couldn't risk in English.
And the look in his gaze said he meant every word. Whatever that was.
Placing a gentle kiss to my cheek, Kova pulled the door open and took part of me with him when he left.
I locked the door and walked into my living room. I was going to take another shot but then I noticed the box on my table, and my stomach sank. The longer I waited, the more chances I took.
"Fuck," I complained under my breath and picked it up.
"Everything okay?" Hayden asked. I fumbled with the foil sheet, trying to poke the little pill through. Tears brimmed my eyelids, and my focus became blurry. Hayden walked over and took the package from my hands. I swallowed hard and sent up a silent prayer. With all the petitions and wishes I've been requesting from God lately—begging, really—one would think I'd have a fresh