She nods, and I help her up. “This way,” I say, her hand in mine as I lead her to a small wooden structure nestled among the trees.
We dash through the rain, laughing, until we reach the simple door. I pull out my car keys, which also hold all the other vital keys, and unlock the door.
“You have a hut?” she gasps as I guide her inside.
“I come here sometimes when I need space from... everything,” I explain, and close the door behind us.
Lilibeth nods as she takes in the surroundings. The hut is rather small, with just enough space for a bed, a small table, a single sofa, and a kitchenette with a microwave and hot plate.
We're both soaked, her dress clinging to her curves in a way that makes my mouth dry. Her hair is darkened by the water, her mascara slightly smudged.
“You're shivering,” I observe.
“It's cold,” she admits, wrapping her arms around herself.
I move to a small chest and pull out a thick blanket. “You should get out of those wet clothes.”
Her eyes widen slightly, a blush creeping up her neck. “I—”
“I'll turn around,” I say quickly, understanding her hesitation. Then, inspiration strikes, and I hold the blanket up like a curtain. “I'll hold this behind my back. You change behind it, just to be extra safe.”
She let out a nervous, breathy laugh but nods. I stand with my back to her, extend the blanket, and hear the agonizing sound of zips being unzipped, of a dress falling to the ground. The images it puts in my head have me scrambling to think of anything but her.
“Okay,” she says softly. “I'm... well, I'm in my underwear.”
I turn, blanket still in hand, and wrap it around her before allowing myself to look. Her shoulders are bare, freckled lightly, her collarbones delicate beneath skin flushed from cold and embarrassment.
“Better?” I ask, my voice rough.
She nods, clutching the blanket. “What about you? You're soaked too.”
“There’s only one blanket,” I explain. I peel off my shirt, aware of her eyes on me as I do. The hut suddenly feels much warmer. I don't miss the way her eyes linger over me, appreciating this body I’ve worked hard to build.
She’s still trembling, and this time, I wonder if it’s truly from the cold.
“Come here,” I say, sitting on the edge of the bed and patting it. “Body heat.”
She follows my lead and leans against me, her blanket-wrapped body warm against my side. “Is this the real reason you brought me here? A manufactured rainstorm to get me into your secret hideout?”
“If I had that power, I wouldn’t waste my time in the Bratva,” I chuckle, brushing a damp strand of hair that’s tickling my shoulder.
Her eyes meet mine, keeping me rooted in her gaze as time begins to stand still. “I'm glad you brought me here,” she whispers. “To your special place.”
“I’m glad you liked it,” I whisper.
“Very much,” she says, her gaze now lowering to my lips.
The cold air now sizzles into steam. Being so close to her is sheer torture, every moment reminding me of that time backhome when I had her backed up against a wall, her lips soft against my mouth. I wonder if she thinks of it the same way I do, but then she whispers, “Agafon” with such lust, such want, such hunger, that I know she feels the same way.
Desperate. Carnal.
Suddenly, her lips are on mine. The kiss starts gentle, a question I answer by sliding my hand to the back of her neck, cradling her head as I deepen it. She answers by moaning into my mouth, digging her nails into my shoulders, pulling closer.
Her hands, still clutching the blanket now, move lower to press against my chest.
The kiss grows more urgent, her mouth opening to mine, and I slide my tongue in, feel the roof of her mouth, the curves of her teeth. Her small sounds of pleasure drive me to the edge of my control. I trail kisses down her jaw, her neck, feeling her pulse flutter beneath my lips.
“You've been working so hard,” I murmur against her skin. “Let me show you a good time.”
