Chapter 23
Deep in a cocoon of a white comforter and pillows, Deva was way too hot now, surrounded by Aleksei’s body, but she didn’t care. It was more due to the fact that, limp as a noodle, she didn’t have the strength to push the covers away.
“Stop squirming, Deva.”
The deep rumble and slightly annoyed tone from Aleksei made her giggle.
“You are a damn furnace! I’m melting here.”
In a swift movement, he grumbled and pushed the cover away, so their naked bodies were now exposed. And she wasn’t even feeling the cool air!
“Is it a Russian thing to generate so much heat? To fend off the cold Siberian nights?”
Again, he rumbled, and despite her discomfort, she snuggled even closer to him. Aleksei shifted to his back and draped her over him. At least now she felt more comfortable.
“I don’t have a clue. I’ve never slept with a Russian man before.”
Deva blinked and burst out laughing. “Well, at least we have similar experiences in the matter. And I don’t care, this feels nice.”
“Yeah, very nice. And new.”
His voice was so low, she almost didn’t hear the last few words. “New? Please tell me you weren’t a virgin! My heart wouldn’t take it!” When his chest shook, she rubbed her cheek against it. This playful mood moved her somehow.
“Nyet. And I wouldn’t recommend me as a virgin. Let’s just say that practice makes perfect.”
“Whoa, now I don’t know if I want to learn more or just put my hands over my ears.”
“I think option two would be your best choice.”
“I agree. I’ll just pretend you’re a sex god and be done with it.”
More rumbles. More giggles. “I like the nickname. Sex god. Please use it whenever you want, especially when there are a lot of people around.”
“That nickname would beat Alek anytime.”
Deva felt him hesitate a moment. “Please don’t use that nickname for me.”
Well, the mood had frosted over in a matter of seconds. So much so, that worried, Deva pushed herself up so she could look at his face.
“Did I say something wrong?”
He shook his head. “No, you couldn’t have known. The name Alek bears bad memories, that’s all.”
“What kind of memories?” Deva didn’t know why she pushed. She knew so little about that man, but she’d prefer that he tell her about his past, about who he was, by himself. He didn’t move, his gaze going to the ceiling and Deva internally slapped herself for breaking the mood. And what for? What they had was temporary anyway.
“For a long time, there was only my mother and me. I was so young, but when you are born in poverty, surrounded by violence, you grow up fast and understand realities even faster. I always knew that my mother was a whore. Even before I knew the word or what it entailed. Men came into her room and left, one after the other. And the more they came, the sadder my mother appeared to me.”
“What was her name?”
Still not looking at her, she saw his face relax a bit. “Zoya. It was her real name, not the name she used for work. And she had the softest voice. Her touch was kind. And despite everything else, the hunger and the cold, I always knew she loved me, that she was ready to do the worst thing in the world to keep me safe.”
He swallowed reflexively, and even though his voice hadn’t changed, she could feel the pain that radiated from the memories. Before she could tell him that he could stop, he kept going.
“She wasn’t always a prostitute, Deva. One day, I discovered a small box with photographs in it. People I didn’t know, but they looked a little like me. Her parents, her family. Bit by bit, I could piece the information enough to know that her family disowned her when she got pregnant with me. Threw her out.”
Now it was hard for her to speak. “That’s awful. Why would they do that?”
Aleksei shook his head, and he gently covered her hand resting on his chest, idly tracing her fingers and the back of her hand.
