Page 20 of Scarlet Sins (Yegorov Bratva #2)

“Promise to never keep anything from me again.”

“I promise,” she says, eyes fluttering shut.

Erin’s taking her shower. I had one already, but I opted out of sharing with her. I don’t want to overwhelm her more than I have. I’m not done with her. I’ll never be done. But right now, the need to claim and reclaim her is like she’s my next fix and I’m jonesing.

I had housekeeping fill the fridge and the cupboards with a list of foods, and right now, I’m making steaks. I’m not much of a cook, but I can make a salad, bake potatoes, and cook steaks.

They’re salted and peppered and coming to room temperature.

The indoor grill plate is heating, the fan’s on, and the potatoes are in the oven.

The note on the prepped potatoes came with instructions.

Hasselback it said, and they were wrapped tight.

They’re cut into thin pieces along the top, like a fan, and are seasoned, so…

putting them in the baking dish and in the oven with the duck fat isn’t hard.

“Cooking. Is… is this going to be a repeat of that breakfast?”

“Sasha loved that,” I reply as she walks up behind me, and I smile as her arms come around me, her cheek pressing into the thin T-shirt I’m wearing. She lightly runs a hand over the crotch of my jeans, making my junk start to swell.

“Sasha’s two. He thinks smashing berries is how you eat. He doesn’t know a thing.”

“He has taste.”

“Do you need help?”

I put the knife down next to the cucumber and turn, pulling her away so she’s facing me when I do. I kiss her long and hard. “No, I don’t need help. Everything came with instructions and I know how to cook steak. There’s even a timer.” I pick up the pink thing and show her. “See?”

“Pink’s your color.”

I remember the pink truck Sasha had me play with. “Been speaking to your son?”

“Did he make you play with the pink truck?” she asks, laughing. “It’s either that one or the bright-green one.”

“He did.” She’s wearing one of my workout shirts. I’m not planning to work out here, but I packed it because I fucking love it when she wears them to sleep in. And I’m so fucking happy she’s put one on. “Dressed for dinner, I see.”

Horrified, she pulls away. “I’ll change?—”

“Fuck no, Lyubimaya , I love you in my clothes. Hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” I lean in and kiss her ear. “The very reason I packed the workout shirts.”

“Oh, okay.” She smiles up at me. “This… this is nice.”

I’m drinking some whiskey. Even though there’s some beer, I like liquor more. I have vodka, good Russian vodka the housekeeper sourced. But I can drink that like water so I stick to my one glass of whiskey.

“There’s some water in the fridge, or soda. Even some iced tea I had made. No sugar, just in case that upsets you.” Suddenly, I remember a fact that some women get morning sickness at all hours. “You can eat, right? You’re not sick? You should sit?— ”

“No, Demyan.” She rises on her tiptoes to kiss me. “I get sick in the mornings, but not every morning. I’m fine. Thank you. I can chop if you want.”

“Hell no. I want you here, being waited on. I have spinach for the salad, tomatoes, cucumbers, scallions, and some goat’s cheese. If you don’t like that, there’s feta. And I have some olives?—”

“Demyan.” She captures my face. “You don’t need to impress me. I’m already beyond impressed and I didn’t come for a top chef meal. I came to be with you.”

Erin pulls up a stool and sits on the other side of the island. I tell her what’s for dinner and finish chopping the cucumber and throw it into the salad bowl. She steals some. When the timer goes off, I set it again and start the steaks.

“Thank you, Demyan, for taking me away on this weekend,” she says quietly. “I really needed this time. Alone with you, I mean.”

I lean over the island and kiss her. “I needed it as much as you did. My phone’s on silent. Pavel and Ilya are taking care of business.”

“And Stefina?”

I flip the steaks.

“She’s been told I’m busy.”

If she doesn’t buy it, she doesn’t show it.

When the timer goes off again, I put it on again to finish the potatoes and cover the steaks in foil to let them rest.

Then I go around to her side and lift her off the stool, putting her on the counter.

She laughs as I kiss her again, parting her thighs to step between them. On her, cucumber has never tasted so good.

The timer goes off again as I start to kiss her throat. She playfully shoves at me. “Dinner will be ruined.”

“Yeah?” I grin. And I kiss and nip at her throat. “Fuck dinner. ”

“Ruined,” she says again, arching to offer me her slender neck.

“You know what, Lyubimaya , I’d much rather focus on dessert. You.”

But she laughs and pushes me away again. “Nope. No way.”

“You’re saying no to special dessert?”

“Hell no, but not right now.” Then she eyes me. “There’s an actual dessert, right?”

“Yeah, but?—”

“I want dinner.”

“We can make it dinner.” And I kiss her.

“I want real dinner. I’m hungry and those steaks smell amazing. Besides…” She puts her hands on her flat stomach. “I’m eating for two, remember?”

“Okay, you win,” I say, but as I pick her up to put her on the floor, I put my mouth to her ear. “I would like the jury to note I’d much rather skip dinner or eat the dried-out remnants.”

“Blasphemy. Eating for two. Okay?”

“Okay.” And I put her on the floor.

Our eyes lock.

Damn, she’s fucking glorious, and to me, glowing. I have to say the idea that I’m here from the beginning, from the flat belly to her big and round and giving birth… it’s a fucking turn-on.

I sigh, open the oven, and pull out the potatoes, and as I look at her while I plate the food, I swear to God she swoons.

“Fine,” I say, agreeing as I usher her to the table I’ve set. “I’ll feed you, woman, but after? All bets are off…”