“You are good girl, Elena,” he rumbled, his voice so low it bordered on a growl. “Be careful not to give me reason for to treat you like you are bad one.”
He dipped his chin, the scruff of his jaw scratching her cheek as he pressed his nose in her hair and inhaled. His next words were murmured against the shell of her ear, hot breath raising gooseflesh all over her body.
“Bad girls, they need strong hand of strong man to keep them in line. You don’t learn, I teach you myself. You understand?”
Elena nodded compulsively; her mouth suddenly too dry to form words.
“Say, ‘yes, Evgeni. I understand. I will be good.’ ”
She blew out a shaky breath, her nerves tingling and skin heating as he remained in her space. “I… Y-Yes, Evgeni. I understand.”
He drew back to look down on her, his gaze holding her captive. “And?”
“I’ll be good.”
Evgeni sighed, an aggravated groan rounding out his exhale as he pressed his lips against her forehead in a surprisingly gentle kiss.
Elena blinked, confused by the gesture and unsure of what to expect next. To her relief and frustration, he released her.
“Goodnight, solnyshko.”
“Night!” Elena choked out, fumbling over herself to get out of the car.
She gave him a tight little wave as she shut the door and forced herself to walk up the front stoop instead of running like instinct demanded.
Run. Run away from the predator wearing a sheep’s skin.
His car idled curbside as she unlocked the door, but Elena couldn’t bring herself to look back. Once inside she flipped on the light, slammed the door, and turned over all the locks.
Feeling moderately safe, she leaned back against the door, closing her eyes as she tried to catch her breath.
Just like every other man, he assumed she was a goody two-shoes—a naïve ditz who didn’t know what she was getting into.
Just like every other man, he was wrong. His threat inspired the opposite reaction of what he’d intended. Instead of being scared, Elena ached to know more about what he’d do if he decided he had to treat her like a bad girl.
It was a shame, really. It was hard to find a truly dominant man with an alpha’s mindset who wasn’t just pretending to play the part. It was why she’d ended up with Jack. He didn’t pretend to be something he wasn’t, and even though he didn’t share most of her sexual interests, he was better than a fake alpha-type. Looking back, she realized she’d settled. She shouldn’t have been surprised that he turned out to be a waste of time.
Elena’s tastes were dark enough that she’d learned to keep her preferences close to the chest when meeting someone new. She’d feel a guy out first and introduce her desires in stages. She could usually tell where the tipping point was, and most men’s thresholds were surprisingly low for a culture whose porn was composed mainly of men using women like objects.
Her sexual identity was what some people called a “primal prey” type. She loved being hunted—stalked by a predator—an alpha worthy of her submission. It was exciting. Sweet and loving sex between partners was fine, but she’d always longed for something more—something raw, emotional, and rough. Something real.
Something she hadn’t been able to find.
Elena didn’t find it hard to imagine that Evgeni was just the sort of predator she’d been looking for. It explained the attraction and how difficult it was for them to stay away from each other. A predator was always drawn to prey.
She wanted him to chase her, to catch her.
She should have been relieved that he hadn’t.
But she wasn’t.
Chapter Seven
Little liar.
Evgeni watched her try not to hurry as she crossed the sidewalk and bounded up the steps to the house, but her body language told him just how badly she’d wanted to run. The corner of his lip curled into a smirk.
There was no one in that house, no protection for her behind that locked door. He’d known it the first time they met, when her lack of eye contact and nervous shifting had told him her story about staying with family friends was bullshit—a lie concocted to shield her from a too-interested stranger.
It was a shame he hadn’t bought it.
Not that he planned on calling her out. No, Evgeni would let her keep that secret if it made her feel safe. He couldn’t really hold it against her. An American girl traveling alone definitely didn’t need to go broadcasting that fact to people. Especially to people like him.
To satisfy his curiosity and test the validity of her claim, he’d already checked out her story.
When she’d ridden the bus home the night they met, she hadn’t noticed him following behind in his car. She didn’t see him stop down the street when she got off and walked the last half a block to the house. She didn’t know he’d sat outside in his car for the better part of an hour, watching her movements through curtains she’d shut, but were far more sheer than she realized.
The next night—when he was sure she’d be at work—he’d come back.
He’d gone around to the back door, picking the lock out of sight of prying neighbors. It was an easy enough thing to do, when one had the proper tools. Sure, he could have kicked it in, but that would have defeated the purpose. He didn’t want her taking any extra precautions against intruders. He didn’t want her paranoid or hard to get at if he decided he wanted her. So he’d snuck in like a thief—gloves and all.
Even from a cursory glance at the kitchen, it was obvious there weren’t multiple people utilizing the space—one plate, one glass, one fork in the sink; a small container of milk, half a dozen eggs, a six-pack of soda in the fridge; prepackaged, single-serving meals in the freezer.
The apartment was spartan. There were no photos on the wall and no knickknacks on the tables. There was only a brown leather couch and chair, large flat-screen television, and small coffee table in the living room. On the table was a pile of engineering magazines. When he’d lifted one to inspect it, there was a man’s name on the address label.
Snarling, he’d tossed the magazine back on the stack and stalked off to the bedroom.
A laptop sat open on the unmade bed. Evgeni turned it on, leaving it to boot up as he riffled through the closet and dresser. Mostly they were filled with men’s clothing. Her things only took up a small portion of the hangers and two drawers. In the attached bathroom, her products were scattered on the counter.
He returned to the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed and found that the computer was already up and running. It hadn’t been off, only asleep. Not password-protected, either. He tutted at the carelessness.
An instant messaging window was still open on Elena’s desktop, a conversation between a katsohot97 and a lena_love22. Evgeni smirked. What luck she’d made it so easy.
From what he gathered from skimming the conversation, Elena was house-sitting for a relative of katsohot97. Knowing the man whose name was emblazoned on the magazines wasn’t physically sharing the space with his little American improved his mood.
He clicked through the files on her desktop, through photo after photo of cute and sexy selfies. A few were more daring: Elena in a lacy pink bra and panties, cheeks flushed and mascara-coated lashes framing her half-lidded eyes. Obviously these had been meant for a significant other.