“Rurik, what is it?”
He took a deep breath. “There is something I need to talk to you about.”
She swallowed hard and pressed on his chest for him to move off her. “You regret this, don’t you?”
“No,” he whispered against her lips. He then kissed her tenderly, remaining in place, pinning her to the bed with his powerful body.
“Good,” she replied, sliding her hands up his arms to his shoulders once more. As she ran her fingers over the area, she paused and then lifted her head to get a better look.
He quirked a dark brow. “What are you doing?”
“I scratched you open during, um, all that chicken play,” she said.
Apprehension filled his blue gaze momentarily. “Chicken play?”
Her chest heated as she tried to think of a way to put it. “Sounded less raunchy than saying ‘when you were banging me.’”
“Banging you?” he echoed with a laugh. “I like the sound of that too.”
“I liked the act of it,” she offered, making him chuckle more. She ran her hands over his shoulders and upper arms. The skin was smooth and unmarred. “Seriously, I could have sworn I drew blood. Sorry about that.”
His eyes closed for a fraction of a second before his gaze swept over her face, growing forlorn in the process. “Liberty, there is something about me you should know.”
Skimming her hands over his body more, she nodded. “You can tell me. You saw what I can do. You know my big secret. Wait, you’re not married or something, are you?”
“It’s not that,” he said. “And about the being married thing—” He began to speak but stopped, glancing to the side quickly.
She groaned when she saw two objects floating above the bedside table. The Statue of Liberty figurine and the old, worn stuffed bear from her childhood. They lowered as the temperature in the room began to return to normal. When it was all said and done, they were back where they’d started, sitting next to the framed photo of her and her friends.
Rurik did a double take—and then moved off her so fast, he was nothing but a blur.
The man then ceremoniously tumbled off the end of the bed and landed on the floor with a loud thump. He shot up fast as if he had springs in his ass, and stared slack-jawed at the previously floating objects.
Liberty sighed. “I do freak you out, don’t I? You’re totally scared of me. I swear I won’t hurt you. If I knew how to stop this all from happening, I would.”
He practically tripped backward as if he’d seen a ghost.
Tears welled as Liberty stared at the table too, a little worried a ghost had actually appeared. With the way her luck ran, the orange-eyed demon from across the street had suddenly taken up residency in her bedside table drawer. Seemed illogical, but then again, so did the ability to move things with one’s mind—yet she possessed that capability.
He was scared of her—there was no other explanation.
She sat up quickly and grabbed for the comforter, yanking it up to partially cover herself, wanting to cry but holding desperately to the tears.
“Liberty.” His face went ashen as he blinked in her direction. “W-where did you get those?”
“Get what?” she asked, her attention on the table once more. She clung to her emotions. “The figurine and the bear?”
He nodded, his hand moving to cover his groin as if he was suddenly bashful.
“I don’t know. I mean, I do know—kind of. It’s hard to explain.”
“Try,” he said.
Without thinking, her hand went to her scarred cheek. “Someone gave them to me when I was little. He was one of the men who helped me after I was removed from a really bad situation.”
“Little Paw?”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Liberty’s jaw dropped. Had Rurik just called her Little Paw? Surely, she’d heard him wrong. There was positively no way in hell Rurik could be the same man who helped her when she was little.
Dipping her head, she narrowed her gaze on him, skepticism oozing from her every pore. “W-what did you say?”
Rurik continued to cup himself as a light sheen of sweat covered his chest, making it glisten. He stared harder at her, looking as though he might be physically ill at any moment.
Her thoughts were scrambled as she tried but failed to make sense of what had happened. “Rurik, answer me. What did you call me?”
“Little Paw?” he asked hesitantly, pulling his hands over his face as he shook his head.
Liberty darted off the bed, yanking the comforter with her before backing against the end table. The figurine and the bear fell at the same time. She grabbed for them quickly and brought them to her chest, clutching them.
With no free hands, the blanket slid to her feet, and she stood there naked, staring at Rurik, thinking again about how his eyes and voice reminded her of the nice man from her dreams.
The one who had helped her.
There was no way in hell he could be the same man.
He’d not aged a day.
He backed up more, shaking his head.
“Little Paw?” he repeated.
“Boris?” Her stomach dropped.
It was him!
It was the man from her dreams. The one who helped her as a child. Heat raced through her and she swayed, positive she might throw up. She’d been desperate to find him for so long only to end up sleeping with him.
A long line of Russian came tumbling out of Rurik’s mouth as he shook his head and backed in the direction of the door even more.
She eased forward. “How? You’re not old enough to have—”
He shot back more and bumped the door, tossing his hands in the air as if she were holding him at gunpoint. The act left his groin exposed. His cock began to harden, and he brought his hands down fast in an attempt to hide his erection from her. Minutes ago, he’d been in her, spilling his seed, and now
