DAHLIA WESTBROOKE
Viktor burst into laughter, the force of it drenching the room with a masculine warmth that did things to my inside. His head was thrown back, his throat working with the motion as his chest and shoulders shook.
He really was pretty, I noted to myself as I watched his eyes twinkle vibrantly. They were equally as pretty. His eyes, I mean. I hadn't seen anything like it before. Sometimes they looked like galaxies filled with stars. Other times they looked like the dark, starless sky after it rained heavily.
I looked away from him before I could get deeper entrenched into the bottomless pits of his eyes.
"Pasta good with you?" He finally asked when he was done laughing.
"Yeah, yeah." I swallowed, cutting eye contact with him before he noticed a few of my defences were tethering on the edge of collapse. Just a teensy, tiny bit though. I still didn't like him. Not a chance in the world. "What would you need help with?"
He placed a firm hand on my shoulder, keeping me glued to the stool. "I can take care of it. Just play on your phone or something."
He'd gotten the phone for me shortly after my visit to my apartment. It was a brand new one, not my old one like I'd asked for, and his reasoning was that anyone worth having back in my life---or contact list---would've found a way to reach out after I had abruptly disappeared for nine months.
It hadn't been hard to agree with him, so right now, I only had three numbers saved on my phone—him, Eden, and the driver that took me to my Pilates classes. I had my social media apps installed on the phone, but for some reason, I hadn't gotten the urge to log back into them to let my few thousand followers and acquaintances know I was still alive. My career had taken a complete pause, and I found myself basking in this newfound serenity after endless years of chaos.
"It's in my bedroom," I said in answer to his earlier suggestion. "And I really don't feel like climbing up the stairs right now."
He fetched his phone from his pocket, handing it to me without hesitation. "Here, use mine. The password is..."
He rattled off a few numbers I was too dazed to comprehend, my mouth slightly agape as I stared at his phone next to the Greek yogurt bowl he'd prepared for me. This was new. Sure, he'd given me his phone once to plug Eden's phone number into it, but that was it. This time, he was giving me free reins to snoop around.
My ex—I guess, my sister's husband now—had guarded his little rectangular device with his life whenever I was around him, and like the ever docile fiancée, I'd pretend not to notice, ignoring the message notifications he'd get at two in the morning, which he'd then sneak off into the bathroom to attend to. No, I turned the other way in bed every single time, drawing the covers closer to my chest because that was what was expected of me.
Ignore. Pretend. Rinse and repeat.
I cleared my throat, putting on a patronizing smile that was meant to irk him. "Your personal phone?"
"As opposed to?" He drawled, almost completely bored, clearly not falling for the bait.
"Your work phone. You know, the other one men keep close to their chests, because it has all this info of all their important business partners."
"Uh-huh." He nodded, his naturally gorgeous bushy brows raised slightly pinched together. "So, did you catch the password the first time, or you need me to repeat it a second time?"
I suppressed a groan at his completely unfazed response. Infuriating bastard.
"And Dahlia." His bulky frame wrapped around me from behind, his arms on either side of me, caging me in and subjecting me to the torturous scent of his cologne, a mix of something dark, smoky and sweet at the same time, notes of vanilla, cinnamon and sweet musk smarting my nostrils every time I breathed in. "If you wanted my reassurance, all you had to do was simply ask. Don't compare me to your ex to get a rise out of me."
I swallowed as a slight tingle spread from the base of my spine to my toes, the deep rumble of his chest pressed firmly against my back with just flimsy pieces of clothing separating us. "Did it work?"
I didn't have to look to know he had the corner of his lips ticked up in that infuriatingly sexy way he did every time he found me to be amusing, which was almost every time we interacted.
Of course, that thought would never be seeing the light of day, neither would he find out that I found his tiny smiles pretty. I didn't know if I'd be able to survive that humiliation.
"Not this time." His hot breath fanned against my neck, effortlessly teasing the skin without lifting finger. "But I can't promise there won't be repercussions next time." His right hand drifted from the countertop next to mine, trailing up the bare skin of my thigh until he was cupping my ass in his large hand. "I happen to be fond of this. Especially in these tiny shorts of yours."
His sharp teeth nipped at my earlobe, sealing his not-so-subtle threat before he pulled away, taking away all the warmth with him. I was left a breathless, heady mess on the stool, drunk on his lingering cologne. My skin burned everywhere it had come in contact with his, somehow directing all of the heat to the spot between my thighs and my aching breasts that suddenly felt two times heavier.
Yeah, I was definitely ovulating.