I tighten my fingers in her hair then force them to open and massage the back of her head instead. “Twice in one day. You make me feel like a fucking king.” My voice sounds two octaves deeper than usual.
Sasha’s blue gaze comes up to meet mine. She knows she’s a badass at giving head—I can tell by the blaze of glory in her eyes.
I gather her hair into a ponytail in the back to get the full view of her face. “So sweet… so fucking good.” My head drops back. I’m babbling now, surrendering to the delicious sensations of her tongue swirling beneath my cock, her cheeks hollowing out to suck me hard. “I won’t last long, lyubimaya.” I don’t know when she became my love. One minute she was a pain in my ass, now she’s becoming my whole world.
My thighs start to shake. I can’t help myself, I start to direct, pulling her mouth over me faster, thrusting into her throat. I close my eyes, letting the pressure build, the pleasure intensifying.
“Fuck, Sasha,” I curse. “I’m going to come.”
Like last time, she doesn’t pull off, instead sucks harder and faster. I shout and come and she takes it, swallowing it all down before she comes off with a saucy smile.
I zip and pull her up to kiss hard, walking her backward until her ass hits the wall. “You want my mouth on you now, sugar?”
I see hunger and need on her face, but she shakes her head. “Rain check.”
I nuzzle her neck and slip my hand into one of her bra cups. “I’m sorry if I was too rough with you this morning.”
“You were perfect,” she murmurs.
I tip her chin up to kiss her again. I want to consume her. Own her so fully she never runs from me. Make her fall in love.
Damn. That’s it, isn’t it? I want my wife to fall in love with me.
How in the fuck did that happen? When did that happen?
“Come on, I don’t want to miss Oleg’s girlfriend play.” Sasha pushes gently at my chest. I steal one more kiss before I release her.
“Sing,” I correct because the woman he likes is the singer in the band. “She’s not his girlfriend. Just a girl he likes. Maybe you can help him get her number. He seemed like he was going to bash my face in the last time when I tried to talk to her on his behalf.”
“Ooh, this is going to be fun.” Sasha digs through her suitcases, pulling out a pair of skinny jeans and a hot bustier. A pair of high heels completes the outfit.
I change my shirt and watch her flit about the room and bathroom getting ready. I don’t know why I’m so fascinated by every move she makes. Her quick application of make up. The brushing of her thick hair. Rolling a scent on her wrists and throat. I catch her wrist and bring it to my nose. It’s nothing cloying—not some chemical perfume smell that will make me want to shower after she hugs me. It’s a warm citrus scent that makes me want to eat her up.
“Ready?”
“I was born ready.” She tosses that saucy grin at me, and I scoop my forearm under her ass, scooping her up to straddle me. She shrieks as I carry her out the bedroom door and into the suite where Dima, Nikolai and Pavel wait.
Dima flicks a brow. “I won.”
“Won what?” I ease Sasha down to her feet and loop an arm around her waist.
“The bet. They didn’t think you’d, um, convince Sasha to stay in less time than it took Ravil to keep Lucy from running.”
“I will throat punch all of you,” I warn, tugging Sasha past the assholes and out the door. “Ignore them,” I tell her. “We both know I’ve won nothing yet.”
Chapter 14
Sasha
Rue’s Lounge is a hipster lounge—grungy but very cool. It’s located in the basement of a more industrial area of town. The band hasn’t started, but Oleg has staked out the closest two-top to the stage where he sits with a pint of craft beer in front of him.
“Hey, how’s it going?” I touch his shoulder before remembering with a smile that Maxim doesn’t like it.
I’m irrationally pleased by his irrational possessiveness. Especially because he doesn’t make me feel like a whore, he makes me feel desirable. Highly desirable.
I take the free chair next to Oleg while Maxim and the other three guys scrounge chairs from other tables and arrange them around our tiny table. A cocktail waitress arrives promptly, and we all get a round of the local brew on tap. As we sit, the place starts filling up.
I lean forward, thoroughly enjoying myself. Unlike my father’s men—these guys are friendly. I’m their roommate’s wife not the boss’ daughter. It’s a different vibe here entirely. They seem to have a sense of humor and casual affection with each other, like we’re all in the sitcom Friends or something. “So what is the story with Lucy and Ravil?”
Nikolai and Pavel groan and sit back in their chairs. Oleg barely takes his eyes off the empty stage. Like a dog waiting at the door for its owner to show, even though the car hasn’t pulled into the garage yet. Dima looks at Maxim to tell the story.
“Ravil hooked up with Lucy at this one-night-stand kind of thing last Valentine’s Day. It happened at this BDSM club in Washington, D.C. and was anonymous—no names, no phone numbers exchanged. Flash forward to this month—Ravil goes to hire some big shot defense attorney for one of our guys. When he shows up at her office, he finds Lucy, pregnant with his child.”
I clap my hand over my mouth. “No!” I also want to hear so much more about the BDSM club, but I don’t want to stop the story.
“So Ravil loses his shit. He’s usually level-headed as fuck. I mean, as the cell Fixer, I almost never have to fix.” Maxim spreads his hands. “More than half the operation is legit. Force is only employed when necessary.”
“So what happened?” I’m impatient for the love story. It sounds better than fiction.
Maxim shrugs. “So he kidnaps her.”
“What?”
“Yeah. He was deeply offended that she hadn’t told him. Took it really personally. He moves her into his suite and puts Oleg on her door, so she can’t leave. Tells her she has to work remotely until the baby’s born.”
I shake my head slowly. “That’s not right.” I suddenly don’t like Ravil much.
“No kidding. And it’s my job to make sure shit like this doesn’t blow up in our faces, right? So I looked at it from all angles, and all I came up with was one fix.”
I raise my brows. “What was it?”
“Make her fall in love. It was clear he already had it for her badly. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been hurt. So that was my only fix. Love.”
I sit back in my chair relieved for Lucy. More than a little impressed with Maxim.
Was that his solution for us, too? I want to ask, but my pride won’t let me.
“And it worked,” I finish for him.
“Almost didn’t. But yeah. Thank fuck.”
The band comes out, and I watch Oleg’s body react. He doesn’t move, but I see his muscles stiffen, the intensity of his gaze on the only female in the band almost frightening.
She’s punk-goth-beautiful. Like a modern-day Blondie, she has a platinum bob with bangs and thick black eyeliner. Her nose is pierced, and she has perfect bone structure—one of those heart-shaped faces that will make her model-beautiful well into old age. She’s wearing a micro skirt with fishnets and Doc Martens underneath. Her top is early Madonna midriff style with a torn-out neckline to make it hang open over one shoulder. She’s rocking the bad-girl rock and roll thing, and I sort of instantly love her.