She moved slowly, holding her breath tightly as she glanced at the coffee table. His car keys were on the table—she could grab them and escape with his car. But Fedya was smarter than that. The keypad on the door only responded to his fingerprints, so there was no way she could get out of the house without his involvement.
Looking past the keys, she checked under the blanket tossed over the couch, but there was nothing there either.
“Damn it,” she muttered loosely under her breath as she returned her gaze to the man sleeping peacefully on the couch.
If she couldn’t find it anywhere, then it had to be on him.
She hovered beside him like a ghost, scanning his figure for any indicative sign that he had his phone on him. She looked around his pockets for any noticeable bulge, but both of his pockets were slightly bulged, and she couldn’t tell if it was because of air, the way he was lying down, or because his phone was in one of them.
Her stomach twisted as she bit her lip, looking him over again. He hadn’t stirred once.
She crouched low beside him and reached carefully towards his hip. Her fingers brushed the edge of his shirt, and she slipped her hand lower towards the pocket. She didn’t make it any further because his head snapped up, and she gasped as he grabbed her wrist and yanked her forward, toppling her balance so fast she landed with a yelp.
Right on top of him.
Just her lucky fucking night.
Oxygen rushed out of her lungs as her thighs straddled his waist beneath her silk night gown, her palms landing hard against his solid chest. And then her muscles stiffened becauseshe realized now that he was awake, that he’d been awake the entire time. Her heart hammered in her chest as her brain scrambled for a reasonable excuse as to why she was hovering around him in the dead of the night.
Fedya’s eyes locked onto hers, appearing like two coals under the dim lighting of the living room. He was calm, his voice the same, but something glittered in those eyes of his, something sharp and dark, something that reminded her of how smart he was.
“Looking for something?” he asked, his voice low, rough from either sleep or restraint. Maeve noticed he wasn’t touching her, even though she was on top of him. His hands had hardened into fists but never lifted to touch her.
She forced herself to stay composed even though she was so nervous that she feared she’d throw up all over him and ruin his shirt. She took a deep breath and said, “I came to invite you in. I was starting to feel bad about having the bed all to myself. Itisyour house after all.”
That was clearly not the plan, but it was the best excuse she could come up with at that moment. And she could read the clear skepticism in his eyes.
He shifted slowly beneath her, tilting his head like he was looking for a lie. She wasn’t the best liar, but she really hoped he wouldn’t see through her tonight.
“Just hours ago, you couldn’t get far enough away from me.”
“I changed my mind.”
His hips moved subtly, adjusting his position, and Maeve resisted a hiss of pleasure.
“Why?”
“Because I can,” she said firmly, looking him in the eye now. “Besides, you’ve been sleeping on the couch for a while, and I’m not a devil. I have a heart, and I’m asking you to join me inside.”
He watched her carefully, unmoving beneath her. She didn’t squirm, didn’t fidget, and was even more proud of herself for keeping it together.
Finally, he released her wrist. “Alright,” he said, almost lazily. “Go ahead.”
Maeve blinked. Her body was still straddling his, the heat of his torso radiating through the silky material of her gown. “What?”
“You said you wanted me to join you in the room.” His mouth tilted in the shadow of a smirk. “Go first. I’ll be right behind you.”
Maeve licked her lips and nodded, not missing the way his eyes followed the brief movement of her tongue. She climbed off him, careful not to show how rattled she felt. She rose to her feet and straightened her nightgown.
“I’ll be waiting,” she said evenly, holding his stare for a second longer than necessary before walking back towards the room.
She didn’t look over her shoulder, but as the door closed behind her, she clutched her chest with her hands like she could will the pounding of her heart away. That was close, a terrifyingly close one.
Christ, she needed to be more careful around him. This was going to be much harder than she thought.
Chapter 13 - Fedya
Fedya could tell she didn’t hear him enter.
