by Nicole Fox
Then he smiles again.
“You’ve had quite a night,” he says. “Please eat. There will be time for answers after you have some food in you.”
And just like that, my outburst is over. His voice has a weird effect on me. It’s equal parts calming and invigorating, like a splash of cold water to the face while my core heats up. My anger disappears completely and in its place once more is the throbbing hunger that’s been killing me since the second the scent of the steak first hit my nostrils.
I pick up my fork and poke at the tender meat on my plate. Caving, I take a bite and nearly exclaim at the explosion of flavor that floods my taste buds. The meat is savory, tender, and has the faintest hint of pepper. I moan as I chew. God, I’ve never tasted anything so delicious.
Satisfied that I’m eating, Nikita takes a bite of his own. I watch him carefully from the corner of my eye as I keep devouring the food on my plate. He reaches over and pours wine into my glass and then passes the breadbasket full of warm dinner rolls. I grab one and plaster the fakest smirk I can muster on my face. I hope the bastard doesn’t think he’s impressing me.
“Would you mind telling me your name?” he says after a few silent minutes have passed.
“Annie,” I growl in between bites.
“Well, it’s a pleasure to dine with you, Annie. I’d like to learn about you. Who are you? What do you do?” Nikita pats his mouth with his napkin and then places it on his lap, patiently awaiting my answer. His whole aura exudes this powerful sense of control. Every movement, every word, down to the pitch and pronunciation, is calculated for maximum effect. He reminds me of a panther in the jungle stalking his prey—me.
I huff. Is this guy for real? I shake my head and swallow before responding. “Majoring in accounting and supposed to be graduating this June.”
His eyebrow quirks. “You’re in college?”
“Yeah.”
“What do you do for fun?” He lifts his glass of wine to his lips and takes a sip.
“What is this, twenty questions?” He raises an eyebrow and says nothing. I scowl. “Let’s see, I like to read, hike, and occasionally, I volunteer at an animal shelter.” I scoop up mashed potatoes a little too aggressively and bite down on the fork on accident. The tang of metal reverberates painfully through my teeth. “What about you?”
“You could call me an entrepreneur. I own a couple of businesses.”
“You mean you’re a criminal.”
“Most of my business is legitimate.”
“But not all of it.” I place my utensil down on the table and wait for him to answer.
Once he’s done chewing his food, he inhales and closes his eyes for a second. He picks up his glass of wine and swirls it, looking at the red liquid as if he’s trying to come up with an acceptable answer.
“I do what needs to be done to make my businesses and my family successful.”
I snort. Yup, he’s a thug. A criminal. Someone who belongs in jail.
We fall silent again. I go back to my food. The steak has got to be the best thing I’ve ever eaten, but the rolls are pillow-soft and so warm. I want to keep eating this same meal forever, over and over again. I can’t imagine ever getting sick of it. Nikita seems content to stay silent and chew slowly, thoughtfully, carefully, taking small sips of wine between bites.
After a while, he speaks up again.
“Tell me, Annie ... when was the last time you got fucked?”
The potatoes fall off my fork at the same time my jaw drops. I blink rapidly as I try to process his question. I’m honestly stunned. No one has ever said anything like that to me before. I’m taken aback and confused, and a little annoyed at the flash of heat that runs through my legs when those words come out of his mouth. I don’t like the effect he’s having on me, not one bit.
“When was the last time you got slapped in the face?” I retort.
He chuckles, seemingly satisfied with my answer. I look down at my plate to focus on something else. If the jerk thinks I’m some sort of whore who randomly sleeps with strange men, he’s dead wrong. And if he thinks I’m going to roll over and play dead, he better think again.
“Accounting, then? How are your grades?”
I take a sip of wine as I struggle to make sense of what is going on. It’s not every day that someone jumps from my sex life one moment to my grades the next. More heat crawls up my chest to my cheeks, his question still at the forefront of my thoughts. “Top of my class.”
The seconds tick by. Stars wheel overhead. Nikita finishes his meal in silence, but his gaze is constantly on me, studying me. And even though I try to finish my food, all I can seem to focus on is him. His body. His voice. And his question. No matter how hard I try, that question makes my skin tingle and every time I glance at him, my body heats up even more.
After a few more minutes of eating, with no more questions about when I last got laid, something changes in the air between us.
Nikita places his napkin on his plate and stands, then makes his way over to me. This close, I can smell his cologne, and the musk of man underneath it. His scent fills my nostrils completely, overwhelming me.
I stare at his chest, refusing to look up, refusing to acknowledge what him being this close to me is doing to my body. But he lifts my chin gently so our eyes lock. His eyes are dark, almost black, and swirling with a ferocious intelligence. The image of a black panther is even more powerful now. He stares into my soul. When he speaks, his words are quiet, whispered.
“You do understand that I own you now, Annie?”
I’m silent for a moment. But I won’t let this cocky bastard intimidate me into quitting. There’s a lot of fight left in me, even if I don’t see right now how I’m going to get myself out of this situation.
“No one can own a human,” I snap. “Not anymore.”
He continues to stare into my eyes and my pulse quickens. Without another word he releases his grip and walks away into the penthouse. The thump of his shoes against the floor stops and his baritone voice cuts through the air. “Until tomorrow night.”
Then he’s gone.
Left alone, I grab a dinner roll and shove it into my mouth, shredding it to pieces. Since I can’t take out my anger any other way, I guess being overly aggressive with a piece of bread is better than holding my feelings in. The heavy thump of footsteps alerts me to the fact I’m no longer alone and when I look up, I find my new friend. The jerk bodyguard is once again by my side. To hell with him if he thinks I’m leaving before I’m done eating.
“Hurry up and finish.”
I stare right at him and shovel more steak into my mouth, overemphasizing a moan of delight as I chew. Then I shoot him my best ‘fuck you’ smile and take another bite. I swear, he looks as if his head is about to explode but he doesn’t manhandle me. Guess he has orders.
When I’m done eating, the bodyguard leads me back to the guest bedroom I was in earlier. I slam the door in his face and lean against it to take a deep breath. I guess tonight I’ll be staying here.
I just want to go home. I want to go back to my bed in my apartment with my roommates. But I have no idea how the hell to even get out of this place. Between the bodyguard and the key I would need for the elevator to go down to the ground floor, I’m trapped. And who knows what I would run into in the lobby. Do non-mob people live here? Plus, I have no money, nor do I have my phone, since those were taken by Augustin.
Asshole.
I slink over to the drawers and open them. There has to be something to wear to sleep in. Something I can use as pajamas. Nikita is rich, powerful, and controlling. And if he’s into abducting people, he should be smart enough to leave them something to wear to sleep in because God knows, this dress isn’t it. But of course, there’s nothing.
I walk over to the door and yank it open. My new favorite friend is standing right outside. “Hey. What am I supposed to sleep in?”
“Not my problem.”
“Make it your problem unless yo
u want me to speak to Nikita.” I cross my arms over my chest, glaring at him.
He glowers and stalks off down the hallway. While he’s gone, I take the opportunity to tiptoe down the other end of the hall. There are a couple of closed doors and when I turn the corner I spot the elevator. The only exit.
The heavy thump of men’s shoes against the tile catches my attention and I scurry back to my doorway. No need for the bodyguard to find me snooping.
He rounds the corner and tosses me an oversized shirt. “Here.”
I retire into my room and close the door once again in his face. I smile wide and start to laugh when I hold up the shirt. I’m not sure what I find so funny. Maybe it’s all the emotions catching up to me. Or maybe it’s the simplicity of the XXL white T-shirt that must belong to the bodyguard himself.
Either way, I slip out of the blue dress and into my makeshift pajama before climbing into bed. As I rest against the pillows, I contemplate what I’m going to do. How I’m going to get out of here. The only thing I know is that I need to get control of the elevator. I need the key. And that’s going to take time to obtain.
So, I guess for now, I’ll do what I’m told as I wait for an opportunity. But no way am I giving up. No way will I let this Nikita own me. And if he thinks elaborate dinners will change my mind, he’s dead freaking wrong.
The thought triggers another. The dinners ... Actually, that’s it. Nikita has to have a key on him, right? Maybe if I get him drunk during dinner tomorrow night, he’ll pass out and I can steal his key and get away.
I run over various scenarios on how to make that happen. But my eyelids grow heavy, too heavy, and before I know it, the world fades into darkness.
***
There’s a faint knock at the door and I sit up in bed. The moonlight filtering in through the window illuminates Nikita, who is shirtless and stalking toward me, slowly and carefully. But I’m not afraid. Instead, my pussy grows wet and eager as I wait for him to reach me.
Nikita gets to the bed and rips the covers off me. But when he touches me, he’s gentle. His fingertips glide from my cheeks down the side of my neck. He leans in and kisses me, his mouth all-consuming.
“He saw her, like the sun, even without looking.”
Oh God. He’s quoting Tolstoy and touching me. I moan. I skim his jaw with my fingers and thread them into his hair. It’s soft and thick.
I press closer, but it’s not enough. My focus lies on the feel of his hands on my skin and the warmth of his mouth on mine. He breaks the kiss, and his lips travel along my jaw, warm and wet on my skin. “Is this okay?”
“Yes.”
He grabs the swell of my ass, squeezing gently. “And this?” His full bottom lip begs for attention, so I give it a nibble and a suck.
“Yes.”
He pulls my body closer, shifting his hips at the same time. “What about this?”
And there it is—the friction I’ve been looking for. It feels so good. So much better than my own fingers because it’s a big damn dick and all I have to do is shift against it. “Fuck me.” The words come out on a breathy groan.
I release his hair to explore the rest of his cut body. Muscles tense and jump under my touch. I’ve never been this close with someone in such amazing physical condition. Below his navel is a smattering of dark hair leading to a rock-hard erection. God, he’s so thick, massive even. I wonder if he might break me with it—and I wonder if I might love just that.
As soon as he reaches my breasts, his thumbs sweep over my nipples, ripping a long moan from my mouth. My face and chest heat up. He closes his lips around the taut nipple and sucks gently. I bite the inside of my cheek in an effort to derail the sound forcing its way up my throat and manage to keep it to a whimper.
His kiss is all soft lips and sweeping tongue. The thick head probes low, and Nikita makes several unhurried passes until we’re both panting again. Propped up on one arm so his eyes are on me, he eases his sheathed cock inside me. When he pauses, I tighten my legs around his waist to urge him on until he bottoms out.
He eases back and rocks forward. With each measured thrust, I lift to meet him. Everything turns suddenly intense as he pulls out—way, way out—and pushes in again. As heat and need expand to consume me, I urge him to go faster and harder.
Without the slightest bit of warning, my entire body flushes. The spark ignites, bursting into flame. I grip his shoulders as I come; his name a scream on my lips. He bites out a choked grunt and buries his face against my neck as he pumps erratically, chasing his own release.
Spent, Nikita collapses on top of me. I run my fingers through his damp hair, both of us breathing hard, our hearts beating double time.
Chapter Ten
Nikita
Fucking Christ.
I barely sleep the rest of the night. Even though I came into the office early, my concentration is off, thanks to Annie. All I can think about is the way her skin flushed when I asked about the last time she was fucked. And her quick retort amused me. She’s the perfect mix of porcelain and fire. Of meekness and fury. And it makes my cock jump for joy.
But in the harsh light of day, outbidding Gino seems unwise, to say the least. I can only hope that my moment of foolishness doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass. All the council knew something was up. None of them have ever poked fun before. Most are too scared. But their openness—asking to rent out Annie—was too brazen. I should have stopped it in its tracks. Another mistake. So very unlike me.
But the thought I come back to, again and again, is that I don’t give a damn about Gino or the council, and especially not about my fucking money. Every cent spent on the girl was well worth it. It’s been a long time since I’ve been excited about anything, since something or someone has kept me up all night. Every time her soft lips parted, to snap at me or devour her food, my gut twinged in delight. I wanted so badly to ravish her then and there.
Not since the night I took over the Bratva have I had this kind of energy racing through my veins.
I remember when I finally sat down behind the desk in my father’s office. My body hummed, every nerve ending firing as I sat down in his chair. The room sizzled with a force I couldn’t see. And when I looked out the window, down onto the city, my pulse raced at the realization of all the power I had at my fingertips. Power to control the city. Power to destroy my enemies. Power to do whatever the hell I wanted.
The memory pumps me full of adrenaline. I want to race back to my penthouse and take her now. Right fucking now.
But giving into one’s desires makes a man weak. I force myself—for now—to only wonder how she’d handle my hard cock. After all, control is everything in the life of a mob boss.
And I damn near lost it on the rooftop.
The way my blood surged and my dick throbbed, I almost gave in to the adrenaline—to the raw fucking need—to fuck Annie right there out in the open for anyone to see. It was a dangerous moment, a crisis narrowly avoided. One mistake begetting another.
A knock at the door grabs my attention. “Come in.”
Eitan enters, along with a younger man who is dressed in a navy blue suit. His chestnut hair is cropped and slicked back. A scar above his eyebrow accentuates his harsh features. His nose is just a tad too big for his face and slightly crooked, as if it’s been broken on more than one occasion.
The man doesn’t look around the office as most normally do, but focuses on me instead. The look in his eyes isn’t that of a subordinate—it’s the look of someone who thinks himself my equal.
No one walks into my office as if they own it. I’m the king. I run this city. My gaze shoots to Eitan, who quirks an eyebrow in my direction. But I keep my expression neutral, my mask of calm firmly in place. “Good to see you, Eitan. Hope you’re well rested.”
“Indeed, I am,” Eitan says as he and the new person step closer to my desk. “Nikita, I wanted to introduce you to Augustin. We spoke about him a couple of days ago.”
“Good afternoon,
sir,” Augustin says, extending his hand out to shake. The arrogant look I saw in his eyes is gone now, replaced with the appropriate deference. I wonder if I imagined it. He bows his head towards me.
I shake his hand and everyone takes a seat.
“Shall we?” Eitan asks. I nod my head and he begins. “I wanted to bring Augustin to the meeting to keep him in the loop for the incoming weapons shipment. As you know, everything will be going down in the next couple of days,” Eitan says, crossing one leg over the other.
“Where are we on security?” I ask him.
To my surprise, Augustin interjects. “Eitan and I put together a team. We went over logistics with ten of my best guys. I figured it would be best to keep it small, since the East Siders MC will have some of their members there and too many people might raise suspicion.” His voice is fast and raspy, like oil on asphalt.
“Well done,” I say. In spite of myself, I’m impressed. He speaks with the confidence of a natural-born leader. The intelligence behind his dark, beady eyes is obvious. It mirrors my own.
“Have you spoken to our contact on the police force?” I ask. “We need to manage our friends in blue.”
“I spoke to him. So far, the police are in the dark. The docks aren’t even on anyone’s radar,” Eitan responds.
The shipment is big and I know there will be some glitches, but so far everything is going according to plan. I take a deep threat. “And what about Gino’s threat?”
Eitan squirms in his chair. “There are more rumors floating around today that the DeLucas plan to muscle in on our guns business.”
A low growl rumbles deep in my chest. Of course Gino would want to make a move. I can’t blame him. Most of the bosses want all the power. “Explain.”
“Word is that Gino is coordinating his own shipment with more upgraded guns. M-9s, grenade launchers, armor-piercing bullets, even some 3-D printed guns that metal detectors can’t pick up. And ...”
“And?” I raise an eyebrow.