“I don’t follow,” he says, looking puzzled.

“Would you take the chance to get Hendrix or would you save me?”

He narrows his eyes, like he’s shocked. A look of pure horror crosses his face.

“What kind of man do you think I am, Jess?” he almost whispers, his voice is so low.

“I . . .”

“Clearly not what I thought,” he mutters, standing.

“Dimi,” I say, standing too.

He spins around. He’s angry now. “The fact that you honestly thought I’d take him over saving you tells me you have learned nothing about me.”

“You haven’t exactly given me anything other than ‘revenge, revenge, revenge’.”

He shakes his head, glaring at me. “I won’t deny revenge is all I’ve thought about. But if you were ever in trouble, nothing . . . nothing would stop me from fuckin’ getting to you.”

I feel my body tingle all over.

“It wouldn’t?”

He turns and walks to the door. “No, and you shoulda known that.”

I rush toward him. “Dimitri, don’t just walk out.”

He doesn’t listen to me.

“You hurt me tonight,” I yell, causing him to stop. “You let that . . . that . . . man . . . go. You took his side for information. Did you really think I wouldn’t question what this is that’s between us?”

He spins around. “I’d have never let him touch you.”

“It’s beside the point!” I yell.

“Fuck, Jess, what do you want from me? I stole you. At what point did I go from being the enemy to fucking Prince Charming?”

I shake my head, letting tears leak out. They run down my cheeks and drip off my chin, but I don’t stop them.

“I never said I wanted Prince Charming. Hell, I never even said I wanted the bad guy. I just want honesty, Dimi. I want to know why I’m still here talking to you, when I had the chance to run.”

He walks toward me until he stops in front of me. He looks down at me, his blue eyes intense. “You tell me,” he breathes. “Why didn’t you run?”

I shake my head, staring at him through blurred vision. “Because I can see beyond what everyone else sees. I can see the side to you that you’ve pushed down. I can see a part of me in you. I feel a connection when I’m with you, an understanding . . . but more than anything, I feel you, Dimitri. With everything I am.”

Before another word can leave my lips, he lunges forward, wrapping his hands around my shoulders and crushing my body against his. Then his lips descend toward mine. The moment they connect, I forget everything. My knees become weak and I find myself curling my fingers into his shirt, being careful not to touch his chest. He groans and takes a step forward, causing me to take a step backwards.

We hit the bed and tumble down, and the weakness in my body quickly turns to fear as his body slams over mine. To most, this is a beautiful moment. To me, it’s pure terror. I gasp and wrench my mouth from his, putting my hands to his chest and shoving him hard. He flinches at my contact, and his body, too, stiffens. He jackknifes off me and stumbles backwards. I sit up, panting.

We both look like we’ve just relived something awful.

God. How fucked up are we?

I rub my hands over my chest and stare at Dimi, who is looking down at the floor, his fists clenched. It bothered him too, when I touched him. It brought back something he doesn’t want to face. Just like his body over mine did. I sigh deeply and drop my head into my hands. What can I say right now to make this better? Is there even a way to make it better?

“Well, aren’t we just a picture of fucked up-ness,” I mutter.

I lift my head to see Dimitri staring at me, his lip quirking.

“Fucked up-ness?”

“Yeah,” I say, lying back on the bed. “Fucked up-ness.”

He walks over and surprises me by dropping down onto the bed beside me. We both lie, side by side, staring at the ceiling.

“We make an interesting . . .” I halt, trying to think of a word.

“Couple?” he offers.

“We’re not a couple, we can’t even fuck.”

He makes a choking sound and I glance over to see him grinning. “I can’t stand being touched and you can’t stand being fucked.”

I laugh softly. “Could make for an interesting union.”

“Do you want me to fuck you, Jess?”

My cheeks flush. It takes me a moment to answer, because it’s not something I ever thought I’d feel. The very idea of sex terrifies me, yet a huge part of my body wants him, so much so that I want to know what it feels like to have a man who’s genuine take my body. I know it’s different, I know he’s not . . . he’s not Roger. So, I answer him with full honesty. “Oh, Dimi, yes.”

He turns to me, his eyes blazing. “Don’t know how we could work it.”

I shake my head, struggling to control my breathing. “No, I don’t either.”

“Most of the women I fuck just lie there, or they ride me with their hands on their legs.”

“Thanks for that information,” I murmur.

“We can’t do those things because you don’t want my body over yours . . .”

“It’s not that I don’t . . . it was just . . . it was how you came over me so fast and—”

“I get it,” he interrupts. “I do.”