Strife: Part Three (The Strife Series Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page B

Dmitri shuffling around outside the door. I have no idea what he's doing, and I don't care until I see the lights in the living room turn off and realize that he's getting ready for bed. Even then, I don't move, simply sitting there for an additional thirty minutes until I'm sure that I can sneak out of the bathroom without being accosted.
    When all sound has faded, I tiptoe to the door, turning off the light before slowly opening it and peeking out. The suite is completely dark and Dmitri is nowhere to be seen.
    I pull my shoes off and think of heading for the kitchen to call Nathan to come pick me up. It's a risky move, especially since Dmitri won't be available to report my time. Hopefully, James won't make Nathan break my legs for it. It's probably not the smartest idea to leave without at least telling Dmitri that I'm going.
    With a frown, I walk into the bedroom. It takes a minute for my eyes to adjust, but when they do, I have to stifle a gasp. Dmitri is laying sprawled out across the bed on his stomach, butt naked. Part of me just wants to stand there and admire his perfect muscular body, but I know I have to take care of business.
    I inhale deeply before crossing the rest of the distance to the side of his bed. Apparently, I'm not walking lightly enough because he rolls over onto his back to look at me. It takes everything in me not to glance down, but I somehow manage to keep my eyes locked on his face, though my peripheral vision tries in vain to wander.
    “I'm leaving,” I say as plainly as possible.
    His expression is solemn, his green eyes gazing up at me. He bends slightly, reaching out to take my hand, his large fingers enveloping mine. I stare down at our joined hands, feeling a tremor of longing race through me. Why did the night have to get so fucked up? Why couldn't I have just accepted his rejection with grace?
    “I don't want you to leave,” he whispers.
    “Why not?” I pull away from his grasp gently.
    “Because I don't want to sleep alone.”
    It's a simple answer and one that's difficult to question. A lot of people don't like sleeping alone.
    With a sigh, I stomp over to the other side of the bed like a petulant child before dropping my shoes on the floor and climbing up on it fully clothed. I toss myself down heavily, facing away from him, adjusting the pillow under my head with a discontent huff.
    Within seconds, I feel the bed shift beside me. There's the distinct sound of a zipper being pulled down, and then I feel the back of my dress give way. A soft blush covers my cheeks as I realize that Dmitri is taking it off. His hand tenderly sweeps my hair away from my shoulder, then his fingertips graze my neck before wrapping around the sleeve of my dress and pulling it down.
    The stubborn part of me wants to resist him. But the truth is that just that one little touch already has my body heating up. I'm glad he can't see my face because it's filled with sorrow. I know this is just a tease, like everything else he does. I shouldn't expect anything from it.
    Obediently, I lift myself into a sitting position. Dmitri scoots up behind me, pushing the dress down the rest of the way over my shoulders. At the sensation of his lips on the nape of my neck, I moan softly. His fingertips are magical. His mouth, even better.
    One of his hands slides up my throat, cupping my chin to turn my face. His thumb lightly brushes my bottom lip, and I have to resist the urge to suck on it. His lips trail up the side of my cheek until they find my mouth, kissing the corner of it. Everything in me wants to reach around and fist my fingers in his hair, drawing him to me. I refuse to give in to desire though just to be pushed away again. It hurts too much. So I just sit there, allowing him to lead, letting his affection lull me into a false sense of happiness.
    He lets go of my face, and I help him pull my dress off the rest of the way. Then I crawl back onto the bed beside him, reclaiming my previous standoffish