Oh. My. God.
The feel of him. The strength in his grip. The breadth of his body braced above her and the promise of feeling him slide inside. It was too much and not enough.
She smoothed her palms over the hot slab of muscles at his chest and let her eyes slip shut.
“Oh, no, moya koroleva. Open your eyes.”
Shit. He’d overwhelm her if she did. Would see too much of how she felt. How close she was to completely giving in.
He kissed her cheek. Her jawline. Each corner of her mouth. But otherwise withheld the connection she craved. “Give this to me, vozlyublennaya. I need to see them.”
Did she dare? Could she even manage it?
Slowly, she forced them open.
His own shone down on her, the tempestuous gray of a wild thunderstorm. “Yes...” He pressed forward. Achingly slow. Stretching her bit by bit. “Now you know. It’s me filling you.” He filled her to the hilt and ground his hips against hers. “Claiming you.”
Branded.
The words. The sensations. The visual and physical connection. They all worked together until she was branded. Bound to him in a way that defied comprehension.
He pumped inside her. Built a slow, but driving rhythm and held her gaze. “Take the time you need. Days. Months. Years.” He lowered his head and teased his lips upward along her jaw until his voice was a low rumble in her ear. “But your body knows.”
She gripped his ass. Marveled at each flex and release of the muscles beneath her palms and the wet sounds as he drove faster and deeper inside her.
“Even now, your pussy fists my cock. Demands my seed. Wants to be marked.”
The orgasm he’d stolen before rushed in so fast it startled her. Threatened to drown her with its power and savageness. She hung on tight. Ready for the storm.
“I will mark you.” The most primal of promises. Spoken by a dark alpha with an even darker past. She loved it. Needed it. Wanted it with everything in her. “I will take you with nothing between us. Will fill you with my come and make you mine. Forever.”
“Yes!” She shouted her release. Clung to his torso and rode each pulse of her sex around him. Celebrated at the raged groan that rolled up his throat when he found his own peak. The feel of his cock jerking inside her and each desperate stab of his hips. It was beautiful. They were beautiful.
The truth blossomed behind her chest. Rooted deep in her gut and cracked the last of her resistance open wide. She couldn’t fault herself for fighting it. Understood as only one could in hindsight why she’d kept him at a distance. But now? Now she was fully awake. Vested in the man who held her banded tightly in his arms and guided her down from her peak with the utmost care and intimacy.
He kissed her shoulder. The inner curve of her neck. Her cheekbone. Her nose. Before he pressed his lips to hers, he cupped the side of her face and murmured, “This is the way it will be.” He kissed her and rolled his hips. “Always.”
She sighed at the thought, the same contentedness echoed in the simple sound that had slowly begun to weight her arms and legs. “That’s a very nice thought.”
“Not a thought, vozlyublennaya. Reality.”
“Mmm.” She nuzzled her nose into the crook of his neck and inhaled deep, the scent of him mingling with the languor sinking bone deep.
His low chuckle was warm, but not so powerful as to shake her from the heavenly space he’d given her. “My Queen is tired.”
His Queen.
Her heart smiled at the endearment, the same goofy feeling she’d been blindsided by the first time he’d uttered it leaving her as giddy as a teenager with a crush. No wonder people fell in love with just the idea of being in love. To feel this cherished. This adored by a man like Roman was heady if not addictive.
He shifted to the side, freeing her of his weight and his warmth.
She whimpered and rolled with him. “Where are you going?”
“The condom.” He pulled the covers tightly around her. “Close your eyes and rest. I’ll be back.”
Even in his absence, his scent lingered, a peaceful blend of the deepest woods and the crisp bite of fresh fallen snow. She let her eyes close once more and inhaled deep. Tucked her knees in tight and delighted in the tranquil moment. The sink turned off and on. Footsteps moved from the bath to the bedroom, followed by the muted chirp of electronics. The soft glow of the bedside lamp that burned behind her eyelids went dark just as the click of the switch sounded.
And then he was beside her.
Warm.
Strong.
And so very tender yet confident in the way he held her.
He spooned her tight, his big body wrapped perfectly around hers.
“Roman?” Just saying that much took everything in her, the lethargy after the release he’d given her dragging her deeper with each second.
His voice sounded as relaxed as her own, but there was humor behind it, too. “Yes, moya koroleva?”
Yeah, she wasn’t ever going to get tired of that. Not ever. She forced enough air into her lungs to speak. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
Hmm? What were they talking about?
Oh, right.
That.
And she needed to tell him before sleep claimed her completely. “For not giving up on me.”
“Never.” He brushed his lips against the tender spot behind her ear and his breath ghosted against her skin. “I will never give up on what is mine.”
Chapter Nineteen
Stacks of pancakes. An even taller pile of mega-thick Belgian waffles. Mounds of crispy bacon and a platterful of perfectly crisped hash browns. As indulgences went, the Saturday morning breakfast cornucopia laid out on Sergei and Evette’s kitchen table topped Bonnie’s scale of best ways to wake up.
Granted, it had taken Roman tempting her out of bed with a stout cup of coffee and some physical coaxing of a sexual nature to wake her enough to make it to this point, but wow—was it gonna be worth it.
She moved in closer and eyed the makeshift buffet, Roman tight behind her back. “This is an insane amount of food,” she whispered quiet enough Olga wouldn’t overhear from the stove.
“It’s not just for us,” Roman answered just as quietly. “The men are invited as well. Every Saturday morning, Olga makes the most of her kitchen and spoils us all.”
Spoiled indeed. If the core food wasn’t enough to make an impression, the toppings would leave even the most hardened cynic a reborn optimist. Powdered sugar. Blackberry preserves she’d bet were homemade. Brown sugar and cinnamon. Apple butter. Strawberries, blueberries and Nutella.
And of course—maple syrup.
Bonnie grabbed a plate, her once sluggish body perking right up for the sugar high dead ahead. “Well, if all those men are gonna dig in soon, then I guess I better load up in advance.”
Ten minutes later, she had a huge cup of black coffee and a plateful of bacon and Belgian waffles topped with blackberry jam and whipped cream. She slid into the chair next to Emerson who looked like he’d already mainlined four helpings of chocolate syrup. “What’s up, big man? Long time, no talk.”
Emerson chuckled like he was in on a secret.
Bonnie scanned Sergei, Evie, Kir and Cassie already seated at the table. “What’s he so giddy about? I mean, besides the breakfast paradise in the other room.”
Cassie pursed her mouth in a wry smile and reached for her coffee mug. “Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?”
She rubbed her fingers along one side of her mouth, then the other. Yeah, she’d sampled a little of the toppings before she’d settled on the blackberries, but she wasn’t that big of a pig. “What? Is there something on my face?”
Roman picked that minute to settle in his own chair and Emerson beamed up at him. “She’s awful happy, Uncle Roman.”
S
omehow, Roman managed a look back at Emerson that was both chastising and thoroughly smug. “A happy woman is the sign of a wise man. You should remember that.”
From there, it was all chit-chat and laughter. A Saturday morning the likes of which she’d only thought happened in movies and on family sitcoms. Who’d have thought it possible? Bonnie Drummond—being normal, eating good food and talking with a table full of people who weren’t hung over as hell from the night before.
Talk about your small wonders.
“So?” Cassie pushed her empty plate enough away from her to rest her elbows on the table and clasped her coffee cup between her palms. “How’s it going with the jewelry stuff?”
“Mmm.” Bonnie nodded and swallowed a bite of waffle. “It is sooo cool. Eventually, Mr. Frannelly is going to teach me how to make molds for my designs with his fancy software and a 3D printer, but right now I’m learning how to do simpler stuff with this stuff called precious metal clay. You form it into whatever shape you want, put it in a kiln and then poof—you’ve got jewelry. The heat just melts away the clay and leaves the design.”
“That’s cool,” Evie agreed. “What have you done so far?”
“A few pendants, and a set of earrings. I probably could have done more, but I don’t want to waste the product he brought me, so I’m going slow.”
“We will buy more,” Roman said to his plate rather than the table at large.
“Soon, you will need a storefront,” Kir offered.
“Oh, and pretty cases to display your stuff on,” Cassie said. “And some advertising. Or maybe booths in some of the local art fairs.”
Bonnie put down her fork and held up her hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Y’all are gettin’ waaay ahead of yourself.”
“It is never too early to plan your business.” Sergei leaned back in his chair at the head of the table and rested his forearms on the armrests. “If nothing else, it would be good to capture ideas as they come to you. Better that than to try and remember later.”
“True,” Evie added. “I started doing the same thing when I think of an item we need to carry in one of our clothing lines. If I wait until it’s time to attend a trade fair, it’s harder to remember what we need.”
“Supplies would be good to track, too,” Cassie said.
Kir nodded. “And business training.”
“Eww,” Bonnie said, finally surrendering any hope of cramming more food in her stomach. “Why business training?”
It was Roman who answered, and while his tone was matter-of-fact, it was clear he was warming up to the discussion. “Because, even if you hire out your office duties, you need sufficient knowledge to review their work and confirm they are not stealing from you.”
Oh.
Well, that made sense. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a prayer of remembering any of the stuff they were sharing once the sugar high hit. “Hang on.” She pushed away from the table and headed for the kitchen where she’d left her backpack. “Let me get my computer.”
Thirty minutes later, she had a hell of a list. Everything from training she should consider, to digital storefronts and marketing ideas. She stared at her computer screen, a mix of delight and absolute terror stirring all the food she’d eaten in a slightly disturbing way. “Holy crap. Am I really going to do this?”
“Yes,” Roman said. And it wasn’t just a gentle statement either. More of a pronouncement punctuated with the same finality as a Supreme Court judge.
“Are we done yet?” Emerson asked. With his arms crossed on the table and his chin on his forearms, he looked like he’d just endured an hour-long dissertation on geometric principles.
Bonnie couldn’t blame him. Her head was about to explode, too. “You know what? I think we are.” She looked to Roman. “Got any issue with hanging around long enough for me to decompress with some Minecraft with the big man?”
Roman shook his head. “No. I have updates for Sergei on André’s and need Kir to run background checks on a new employee.”
“Cool.” She winked at Emerson and hit the save button on her Word doc. “Let me save this puppy and we’ll find a good place to chill and do some mining.”
She was just about to close her laptop when an error message fired back at her.
Your disk is almost full.
What the hell?
She tried again and got the same message.
Roman leaned over for a look at the screen. “What is wrong?”
“It says the disk is full and won’t let me save the document.” She glanced up at Cassie then tried again. “This thing was mostly empty when you gave it to me, wasn’t it?”
“I refreshed it,” Kir said. “There were only OS and basic application files. You had a terabyte of free storage.”
The same message popped up.
“Well, apparently, I don’t anymore.”
Kir stood and came around behind her. When a few clicks of the mouse wouldn’t give him what he wanted, he took the whole machine and sat back down at the table. In less than a minute, he stopped typing and frowned, looking up. “Someone’s partitioned the hard drive. The primary was left with almost no storage. The other is completely full of data.”
Sergei uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. “What kind of data?”
Roman stood and rounded the table, planting himself squarely behind Kir.
Kir scanned the screen, his fingers moving wickedly fast atop the keyboard. “Hard to tell for sure, but it looks like...financial data.” His gaze cut to Bonnie. “Where did this come from?”
“I don’t know. The only thing I’ve ever used it for is surfing the web and email. Except for when I tried to do that iMovie thing and almost chucked the whole computer out the window.”
Everyone around the table got eerily silent, waiting for Kir to figure out what the heck was going on.
Olga stepped into the opening and scanned the lot of them. “What is wrong?”
“Uncle Kir is fixing Aunt Bonnie’s computer,” Emerson said. “She broke it.”
“I did not.”
“Well, it’s not working.”
Evette tapped her son on the shoulder. “Emerson, cool it. Give Kir some quiet to work.” She shifted her attention to Olga. “Everything go okay with the men?”
“Yes, all the food is gone.” She held up a phone and looked to Bonnie. “But Miss Bonnie left her phone on the counter. It has been ringing for half an hour.”
“My phone?” She scooted her chair back and hurried to retrieve it. “My phone never rings anymore.”
Before she could wrap her hand around the casing, Roman beat her to it. He thumbed open the screen. “Not a call from your contacts.” Not waiting for any direction or permission from her, he punched the accept button. Whoever was on the other end answered mighty quick because Roman all but barked, “Who is this?”
He frowned at the floor, listening, then slid his attention to Bonnie. Slowly, as though he wasn’t sure of the wisdom in handing the device back to her, he murmured, “Jennette Simpson.”
Her brother’s girlfriend? That was seriously weird. “How’d she get this number?”
Roman twisted for a direct view of his brothers. “A good question.”
“I’m on it.” Leaving Bonnie’s laptop behind, Kir rose and strode from the room.
Evette leaned over and whispered something into Emerson’s ear. He nodded and left the room without a backward glance.
Bonnie stared at the now empty entry for a solid handful of seconds, then lifted the phone to her ear. “Hey, Jennette. What’s up?”
“It’s your brother. We gotta talk.”
Her heart kicked hard enough it hurt and her knees got weak. “Right. Okay. Um...” Roman must’ve figured out she was close to keeling over, because within one strained breath, she found a chair pushed behind her knees and her ass solidly plan
ted in it a second later. She let out a shaky exhale. “What about him?”
“No, not on the phone. Come to the place I work—Froyo Fruitti over on St. Thomas Street.”
“Wait—what? Since when do you work there? I thought you were working at the Sonic in Dad’s neighborhood.”
Jennette paused a beat, then answered, “Oh, no. Got me a new job. Cleaner and easier, that’s for damned sure. Now are you comin’ or not?”
From the stern glare on Roman’s face, she was thinking not. At least not without an army alongside her. “Um, sure. Roman and I can be there in maybe thirty minutes.”
“You mean that big guy that was at your house? Oh, no. I ain’t talkin’ to him. Or anyone else but you. Just you, okay? I’m only callin’ as a friend. I don’t want in the middle of Kevin’s shit any more than I already am.”
Now that was an odd thing to say. How the heck was Jennette in the middle of anything? And an even bigger question—how the hell was she ever gonna talk to Jennette without muscle in tow? “Is this the best number to reach you?”
“It’s the shop number, so yeah. But I’m only here until six.”
“Okay. Let me figure something out, and I’ll head that way.” She ended the call and stared up at Roman. “She says she knows something about Kevin, but she didn’t want to talk about it on the phone...”
“Good,” Roman said with a decisive nod. “We will go to see her.”
“...but she doesn’t want me to bring anyone.”
Roman stared down at her. “No. Unacceptable.”
“But Roman—”
Kir re-entered the room with his own computer in hand. “It’s a forward from her old number.”
“Well, that makes sense, at least,” Evie said, then shifted her focus to Bonnie. “She could have gotten that from anyone you or your brother know right?”
Mine to Keep Page 22