Beauty and the Assassin

by Nadia Lee

  “I would’ve asked if I wanted your opinion.”

  “You slept with her!”

  “And?” My lip curls with amusement. “Do you think I’ve been living like a monk all these years?”

  He gives me an ugly glare, full of teenage bravado and angst.

  “Lyosha, I am a man of discipline, but I’m not dead.”

  “I don’t need to know about your sex life! It’s disgusting.”

  “Then don’t barge into my bedroom. You weren’t dropped off by a stork.”

  He looks like he wants to throw up.

  “We could’ve given you a brother, although I would prefer a girl,” I add. I’m feeling sadistic enough to torment my son for ruining what would’ve been a lovely, intimate morning. “Girls are softer, prettier… More fun to protect.”

  “You’re an asshole.”

  “Agreed. Now shut up and be nice to her.”

  “Make me.” He bares his teeth.

  Being away on campus probably made him forget what I’m capable of. Not that I’d use violence against him. But there are other ways to make him obey.

  His posture shifts as though he’s just remembered all those ways. He sniffs. “I just don’t like it that you’re forgetting things.” His tone is mulish. Resentful.

  I really need to teach this child not to be so easily read. He’s a walking neon sign. “You’re upset because you think I’m getting myself a serious girlfriend, which means the promise I made when you turned ten is no longer important for me to keep.” Ridiculous. He should know better than to think that. “But I haven’t forgotten anything. The Dealer will pay before the year’s over.”

  His head snaps up. “Really?”

  “Really. But if I’m too busy having to console her because you can’t be a polite, decent human being, I might not have the time.”

  He clears his throat, shifting on the stool. “Okay.”

  His objection to Angelika isn’t personal, so this should smooth things out. I take out bacon and eggs. Lyosha leans forward.

  “But… Dad. Don’t you think she’s too young?”

  I stop, then slowly turn to face him. Is this little brat judging me?

  “I mean… She barely looks old enough to be a TA,” he says.

  “Your point?”

  “I’m just saying—”

  “Your point?”

  He opens his mouth, then thinks better of it.

  It isn’t like the matter has never crossed my mind. Every time I look at her, I note her youthful smile and open personality. But I don’t understand why my son thinks I shouldn’t have a girl who’s young and nice. It’s like he wants me to go get an unpleasant hag.

  Even having brushed my teeth and taken a hot shower, I can still taste her, still feel her tight and hot around my cock. She smells of my shampoo and body wash, and if it weren’t for Lyosha, we would still be in bed together.

  She’s bait. I shouldn’t have any feelings for her. But now, I’m thinking about what’s going to happen after the situation with Roy is resolved. Letting her go no longer seems like an appealing option. But keeping her in the dark about her role in my plans and keeping her by my side?

  Oh, yes.

  Chapter Thirty

  Angelika

  By the time I calm myself and walk back out, Tolyan has breakfast ready. He serves eggs and bacon to everyone.

  Lyosha’s no longer looking annoyed with me. Instead, his manner is polite. So Tolyan must’ve had a word with his son. Still, Lyosha doesn’t strike me as the type to do something just because his dad told him to.

  “Sorry I barged in on you guys like that,” Lyosha says, while surreptitiously handing a strip of bacon to one of the Dobermans. He’s been doing it throughout the meal. No wonder the canines have been whining and wagging their extra-short tails around him.

  “It’s okay,” I say graciously.

  “I could’ve shot you.” Tolyan’s tone’s anything but gracious as he points his knife at his son.

  “It’s just that I need a new car,” Lyosha says. “The Jeep’s kinda, you know. Totaled.”

  “Is everyone okay?” I ask. It sounds like it was a serious accident.

  “I was, uh, basically the only one involved.”

  Tolyan grunts. “He drove the Jeep into a ditch.”

  “It was dark!”

  “Which is why cars come with headlights.”

  “It was really dark.” He clears his throat. “So I was thinking…maybe your backup Audi would be nice.”

  “The convertible?”

  The kid nods eagerly.

  Tolyan scoffs. “When that faucet runs vodka.” He gestures at the kitchen sink.

  “Oh, come on!”

  “You’re getting the Sienna.”

  He has a minivan? The image doesn’t fit. Tolyan’s like James Bond, except darker and edgier.

  “What?”

  Tolyan shrugs. “There is another option.”

  “The SUV?” the kid says hopefully.

  “Your feet. You can walk. With your feet.”

  “Come on, Daaaaaad,” Lyosha says.

  “I taught you better. Unless you can buy yourself an Audi convertible, the answer is no.”

  Lyosha opens his mouth to argue—

  “I’m already thinking about having you pay for your own auto insurance.”

  —and shuts it with a click.

  I give him a look full of sympathy. It’s going to be painful driving a minivan. He’s going to have a hard time dating.

  On the other hand, he’s going to college and he has a dad who loves him. So he should consider himself lucky.

  “Would your parents force you to drive a minivan?” Lyosha’s tone is pleading. Help me, please. Get my dad to change his mind!

  I shrug, not wanting to get involved. “I wouldn’t know. I never totaled a car, and they passed away when I was eighteen.”

  His face falls. “Oh crap. I’m sorry.”

  “Now we’re even.” I give him a small smile. “And it’s totally okay. Like with you, it was a long time ago.”

  Tolyan clears his throat and gives Lyosha a pointed look.

  The boy sighs. “Thank you for another car, Dad.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  We finish the breakfast in silence. Tolyan cleans up, refusing my offer to help, as usual.

  Lyosha and I head to the living room. He takes a couch, and I take a love seat near it.

  “So.” He casts a quick look over his shoulder at the kitchen to make sure Tolyan’s busy. “We’re cool, right?”

  “Cool how?” I’m not sure what he’s going for. Although he was polite to me during breakfast, I haven’t forgotten his attitude earlier before Tolyan showed up.

  “No hard feelings?” He frowns a little. “It’s just… I don’t know. I feel like you might stick around for a while. And I…” He shakes his head. “I was annoyed. I just came back to filch the fob for his Audi. I didn’t think he’d still be lying around in bed so late. He normally isn’t.”

  He’s trying to smooth things out, but not very well. But then, he’s a boy who’s dealing with the fact that his dad has a libido. If I were in his place, I might not do as well, especially if my dad hadn’t been with a woman for a long time. I nod. “We’re cool.”

  “Good.” A relaxed smile splits his face. “So. Are you going to be around for a while?”

  It’s a good question. Initially, I was thinking just until Roy was dealt with. But now, I’m not sure if that’s the end date I want. Sex changes things, but maybe they only changed for me. You never know with men…

  “I guess,” I say, since I’m not going to quit my internship at the foundation regardless of what happens with Tolyan. The opportunity’s too good, especially if I can renew or switch to a full-time position.

  But I can’t ignore the voice in my head that whispers, The real reason you want to stay in L.A. is Tolyan.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Angelika

  I put
my feet up on an ottoman and relax, a bottle of water by my side and my phone clutched in my hands. It’s a quiet Thursday evening and I’m letting a wonderful dinner digest. The Greek takeout we grabbed on our way home was incredible, and I probably overate.

  Tolyan’s in his favorite armchair, vodka in one hand, a lit cigar in another. He’s undone the top two buttons of his shirt and rolled his sleeves up to the elbows, showing his well-muscled forearms. He puffs the cigar fondly, coffee-and-spice-scented smoke spreading like clouds. The dogs are sprawled around his feet, forming glossy, dark, furry valleys.

  Just looking at him makes my body tight and wet. It hasn’t been that long since we started sleeping together, but my libido’s been trained to flood my system every time I’m near him or think about him. It’s so bad I’m seriously considering taking spare underwear to work.

  I look at my phone. There’s a brand-new social media app just waiting for me to tap it. Lyosha stayed the weekend, and he saw me try some more Doberman latte art. He was impressed and asked me if I wanted to post my work.

  “Post it?”

  “Yeah, so people can see. They’re pretty awesome. You’ll get a bunch of shares.”

  “Oh. I don’t post them online.”

  He stared like I told him I like to dance naked on I-5 every Monday morning. “How come?”

  “I don’t really do social media.”

  “Because…?” His gaze said, What kind of medieval woman are you?

  “I…had some issues with a stalker before.”

  He scoffed. “And? That’s what the Dad Unit is for.”

  “He’s right. If you want to post them online, you should,” Tolyan said calmly.

  “You don’t think it’s going to be a problem?”

  A corner of his mouth quirked up. “No.”

  Lyosha spread his hands. “See? If you want, you can follow me. I only post cool stuff. I’m trying to get a hundred thousand followers, and I’m pretty close.”

  I stare at the bright app icon on my phone. Maybe it’ll be fun to post some of the latte art I’ve done. I might get some pointers from people who are better than I am that way. As long as I’m not posting my face, I should be okay. I’ll even join as Angie, rather than Angelika, which would make it harder for Roy to link the account to me.

  My mind made up, I enter my information and register.

  The app suggests some people for me to follow. Lyosha’s easy to find. There’s only one in Berkeley. Plus his profile picture gives him away. I follow him.

  The system immediately suggests more people. Rhonda. Sean. Eric. Patrice. Maggie. Even Mira from the hotel.

  My skin breaks out in goosebumps. How can a Silicon Valley company know so much about me just from what I entered? The system doesn’t show an account for Tolyan, though. I steal a glance. He’s still puffing his cigar, his eyes narrowed with pleasure. Yeah… I can’t picture him posting anything.

  Okay, so… I tap my lip. Eric is a definite no. But Rhonda and Patrice… Should I follow them, too, even though I see them every day in the office? I just wanted to follow Lyosha; those two would triple my initial limit. And what if the app recommends even more people to follow? Or recommends my account to others, so they can follow me? Rhonda and Patrice might also get an alert that I have an account.

  It’s sad I’m excited over the prospect of making friends online. Am I that starved for friendship and connection? I suppose eight years is a long time to be alone.

  Wait… What about Roy? Is he going to get an alert, too? But he might not have an account. Should I check real quick?

  Tolyan gently pulls my phone out of my grip. “What’s so interesting that you’ve ignored me since dinner?” he asks.

  Have I? I blink, then realize he’s right. “Sorry. I’m debating who and how many people I should follow.” He’s helping me with Roy. He might have an idea as to what a safe number is. We haven’t discussed that. “Do you think it matters?”

  “In what way?”

  “Having too many followers or something like that could endanger me. You know, expose me to Roy.”

  He shrugs. “It makes no difference. I’m going to get him no matter what.”

  His tone is firm and confident. It relaxes me, makes me feel safe and protected.

  He puts the phone on the table next to the bottled water. “If that’s all…”

  “That is—”

  Before I can finish, his mouth claims mine. He isn’t especially gentle. His lips ravish me, his tongue plundering.

  I clutch him and kiss him back desperately. I want him on my bare skin, but the scoop-neck top and skirt are in the way. I take them off, my fingers clumsy with desire, and toss them on the floor. Now all that’s left are the matching lace bra and thong and the stilettos I haven’t taken off yet. Although I protested at first at Monique’s selection—and the cost—now I’m glad I have sexy underwear. Watching his eyes flare makes it worth it.

  He pulls the bra up and scrapes his palm over the nipples. The feel of his hot, callused hand on the sensitive skin sends hot shivers. I whimper, then lick my lips at the sight of his bulging cock pressing against his black slacks.

  “Does it feel good, little fawn?”

  I arch my back, my eyes on his, but it’s difficult to focus. He’s too gorgeous, too brilliant. And too in control in his impeccable button-down shirt and slacks. “Yes!”

  “Tell me you want more,” he commands, standing between my legs and spreading them until I’m exposed.

  “I want more,” I whisper.

  “Good girl. Now, what else do you want?”

  When I hesitate, he puts a nipple between his fingers and squeezes. Torturous pleasure slices through me. “God…”

  He laughs, the sound low and wicked. “You want God?”

  It’s all I can do to process the words. My instinct wants to take over. Screw it. Just take what he can give you!

  He keeps tormenting my nipples as he waits. My pelvis begins to move of its own volition. “Suck them,” I beg.

  “Suck what?”

  “Suck my nipples.” Then I add, “Please.”

  His dark head drops and he closes his mouth over the tip of one breast, hot and wet. His tongue flicks over the hard, pointed tip, and I cry out, my vision hazy for a moment. That feels too good. Too searing.

  He sucks the other nipple, too, until I’m drenched. Vaguely I can sense I’m making a mess on the leather couch. But embarrassment is the farthest thing from my mind. I’m too aroused to care.

  “What else do you want me to suck, little fawn?” His words are like the devil’s whispered temptation. I can think of so many places I’d love his mouth to be.

  But saying it out loud… For some reason, that seems to require courage. I’ve never been this honest or vulnerable to someone.

  He flicks a finger over my clit. Before I can rock against it, he takes away his hand. A growl builds in my chest, full of frustration. “Tell me.” He kisses me. “Think of me as your living sex toy, little fawn. Tell me what you’d like.”

  I lick my mouth. Wide, powerful shoulders, chest thick with muscle, forearms corded and flexing. He doesn’t look anything like a toy, much less someone I can command with words. But the throb in my clit is growing more intense, and I can’t fight the surging lust.

  “My clit,” I say finally. “Go down on me, Tolyan.”

  And he does. God, his mouth is glorious. White-hot pleasure tightens in my gut as he devours me. His tongue stabs into me, and I rock shamelessly against his face, my fingers doing their best to grip his hair, although I know it’s too short for me to hold.

  The orgasm hits me viciously. I scream. But even as I come down from the high, I need more of him.

  He pulls off my thong and tosses it aside. The bra is also disposed of. Then he positions me on my hands and knees. He unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his pants. The fly hisses as he lowers his zipper. Foil tears, and I hear the latex rolling down his gorgeous cock.

  I tremble
as need shivers through me. God, he’s going to drive into me. My whole body clenches with hot anticipation.

  I want to be filled, then savagely fucked the way only he can. The last time he took me this way, I nearly fainted. My breathing is already rough and shallow.

  He lays kisses on my bare ass. I squirm, then cry out when he slaps it.

  “Please,” I beg.

  He positions his cock at the entrance of my pussy. My flesh pulses. He isn’t pushing in, though…

  “Use my dick,” he orders, his voice low and raspy, his breathing rough and uneven. “Move yourself along my shaft. Pleasure yourself with it like you would with a dildo.”

  The air stills in my chest. His words are thick with desire—and I want to try it, too, except a sliver of inhibition is making me unable to move as he orders.

  Two heartbeats pass. I’m wetter than before. He teases my pussy lightly with his cock head. My toes curl in my stilettos.

  Then he stops, daring and challenging me. He seems to be saying, Still stubborn, little fawn?

  So I press myself against his cock, pushing until he’s sheathed by me, inch by delicious inch. I let out a soft moan at the hot, wet friction, the feel of him filling me. He hisses between his teeth, his fingers tight on my ass. Then I move, sliding myself along the thick, long shaft that seems hard enough to break bricks.

  Bliss spreads like a mist over my bare skin. But it isn’t enough. No matter how frenzied I get, no matter how hard or fast I move, I can’t re-create the raw power of his thrusts, the shocking electric sensation that seems to make my scalp prickle with an orgasm.

  But Tolyan doesn’t move. Not even a little. The climax I want is so, so close, but so far away. I can’t reach it on my own. I need him.

  “Please,” I beg. “Please.”

  “What do you want me to do, little fawn?” he whispers.

  “Take me,” I say. “Fuck me hard, the way only you can.” I lower my shoulders, pushing my ass up higher in offering.

  His breathing changes, and there’s a low rumble from his throat. He grips my hips, thick fingers digging into the flesh. Delightful anticipation pools between my legs.

  He drives into me. All that force. All that power. I feel the impact of his thrusts to the tips of my fingers, to the roots of the hair on my head. My back arches as pleasure wraps around me, tightens its hold.