by Kenya Wright
Sasha mumbled something to them.
Kazimir and Misha chuckled as they left.
To my surprise, Sasha remained. He never looked over his shoulder, but I could tell he was waiting for Kazimir and Misha to get some distance between us.
After three minutes, Sasha spoke, “You’ve heard of me?”
“You’re the wolf,” I said.
He kept his voice low. “Your problem has a simple answer.”
“And what is that?”
Sasha smiled. “Get rid of the Uncle and Kazimir too.”
“That sounds complicated, but I’m interested in how that could be simplified.”
Sasha frowned. “I believe that Kazimir will fall into an unlucky situation soon.”
Louis and Rafael exchanged glances but remained silent.
While I’d thought Sasha had accepted the Bratva’s choice and remained loyal to his step brother, I was wrong.
I proceeded with caution. “It would be unfortunate, if Kazimir was harmed. But if he was?”
“Then, I would not care what happened to his Uncle Igor. The man is no relation to me, and he is part of the very old thinking of the Bratva.”
The sort of thinking that would find a homosexual leader repulsive.
“And what would you need from me, Sasha?”
“Your men. Just in case Kazimir is not taken down.” Sasha raised his finger. “Or if there is more opposition of my taking the reign than I assumed.”
Rafael spoke, “So, you want us to help you fight your own men?”
“If necessary,” Sasha admitted.
“And if not?” I asked.
“Then, I’ll find another way for you to show me support, but most of all, you will have no problem getting to your violinist.”
“And if we chose to give this information to Kazimir?” Rafael asked.
Sasha slowly shook his head. “Then, that violinist would not be able to play her violin. She may not be able to speak or taste food either.”
Louis stepped between us, before I moved.
I hadn’t considered it. The threat was to keep his secret safe. I trusted him before because of it. This showed it wasn’t a ploy, but a man desperate to make a play for the throne.
“What do you need from me now?” I gritted my teeth.
“Send several hundred men to New York. I need girls too. I want to put my headquarters there.”
“Getting into America has been difficult for me.”
“Not anymore. I’ll get you off America’s radar.” Sasha glanced over his shoulder as if to make sure Misha or Kazimir hadn’t returned. “Send your men this week and we’ll meet at my place in Manhattan. I’ll discuss the plan further.”
“I’ll have men in New York, but I want a show of faith too.”
He raised his eyebrows. “What do you want me to do?”
“Tell Kazimir and Igor that you’ll take over this situation. Have Igor’s men change to your men.”
Sasha grinned. “And then you want my men to let you near the violinist?”
“Yes.”
“Fine. I can make it happen at the end of the week, but now I want guns too.”
“Deal.” I placed my hands in my pockets. “No need to shake.”
“None at all. Plus, I wouldn’t want anyone reporting back that I did.” He nodded and walked away. “I will see you in New York.”
“You sure will.”
Once Sasha left our view, Rafael whistled.
Louis turned to me. “You’re not serious about this right?”
“About working with Sasha?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“I am.”
Louis shook his head. “Sasha won’t outsmart Kazimir. I don’t care what plan he’s putting together.”
“I’m not helping him outsmart Kazimir. I’m just giving him men. Let them fight the throne out. As far as Kazimir will know, I pull my people out of Moscow and St. Petersburg and send them to New York.”
Rafael shrugged. “That would be smooth.”
“My men are now in New York. They remain on standby with no knowledge to Sasha’s plan.” I stared at the dark sky. “Sasha changes Igor’s men with his. Now I have access to America and Eden.”
“But you have Kazimir heading your way,” Louis insisted.
“No.” I headed off. “I put our men in New York, but they don’t move against Kazimir. Sasha has to make his move with his men. If he kills Kazimir, then that’s fine. If he doesn’t, then that’s fine too. My men are only in New York. The Corsican are not involved with the Bratva’s inner war.”
“Wait.” Louis got to my side. “And it doesn’t matter—”
“Because I’ll have Eden with me, before anyone knows if Kazimir is dead or not.”
Rafael asked on my other side, “How are you going to have Eden with you?”
“I’ll figure something out.”
Chapter 30
Lose Control
Eden
I woke to no one in bed and the sound of the shower running from my suite’s bathroom. Yawning, I moved the silk sheets off my nude body. My limbs ached from the reunion sex we’d had in the Eiffel Tower.
I rolled over and stretched. My muscles felt heavy and relaxed, if a tad sore in some unusual places. I drew in a deep breath. The scents of Jean-Pierre swarmed around me—expensive cologne, sex, and male musk.
The events of last night rushed back to me. Every bit of it. In sudden, excruciating detail. The memories played out in my mind in full color.
Moaning, I sat straight up in bed. Lust bloomed in my center.
Why aren’t you here to take care of this horniness that you’ve brought on?
I thought about the rest of last night.
Jean-Pierre had taken us back to my suite by dawn.
Where are you?
I checked the opened balcony door. Sheer curtains lazily rose and fell. The sky darkened outside.
We slept the whole day away.
His huge body had been the most comfortable warmth to sleep next to.
How am I going to sleep without him after this?
And when would this end? What had I agreed to last night?
I’d been so consumed by him, so happy that he’d returned, that I’d added thirty more days to this “girlfriend experience”. My heart fluttered with the idea of being with him longer. An ease came to this morning. The ticking of the clock came out less foreboding.
We had more time.
I’d told him, “A month is a long time to extend.”
He shifted his face to neutral. “What were your plans after this?”
“I was going to use the new budget to search for higher positions and save for a possible move to that place.”
“Where do you want to play?” he asked.
“Anywhere.”
“Do the job search while you’re with me. We’ll go anywhere you want to.”
A little bit of panic hit me. It all sounded right, but was it good for me? So many advantages came. I would live in Paris for free and search for a new position.
It was one thing to be in Belladonna with him, where I could leave and run off to my apartment. But now I was in his country, and I was here on his terms.
I didn’t know much about him. He’d been nice to me, but niceness could be easily faked. We had undeniable sexual chemistry, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a psychopath. Plenty of people had chemistry with crazy people.
All of these anxious thoughts ran through my head in a split second. And then my mind drifted to him naked and in the shower.
The thing was, if I didn’t spend this time in Paris with Jean-Pierre, I would never forgive myself.
No regrets, Eden.
The shower continued to sound. A little steam crept out of the opened bathroom.
If anything, it was advantageous for me, more than him. I would earn more money, spend even more amazing moments with him, and search for a dream position at the same time. I should’ve immediately jumped
to the idea with a yes.
He’d asked me in the Eiffel Tower, “What were you telling yourself?”
“That I know that I’m going to say yes.”
His smile spread. “Then, I get my two months.”
“Jean-Pierre, you said one month.”
He laughed. “Then, one month.”
I let out a long breath. “Yes. . .and thanks for. . .everything. Even letting me search for a job….as I…work for you.”
That gaze heated. “Is it really hard work?”
“No. I enjoy it. Pleasing you has become a new passion.”
It had been the truth. I found I enjoyed pleasing Jean-Pierre more than making music. That worried me.
I need a second opinion.
I picked up my phone and dialed Shalimar. If I’d called Leo, he would scream and go crazy that I’d flown out of the country and now decided to extend my new career as a prostitute. Shalimar would get the extension more.
The phone didn’t even ring.
That same message of the phone line not being in service came on.
What’s going on with Shalimar’s phone?
This made me even more nervous. The secret deal that her and me had, involved enough money for her to not only keep her phone on, but make sure that we remained in contact. Something like a deal extension not only meant more money, but more guidance.
Something is going on.
If I’d been in Belladonna, I could’ve solved this easily. I would’ve just gone over to her apartment, or even stopped by the Candy Shop since Aunt Celina had flown to her friend in Prague to mourn the death of his nephew.
A heavy sigh left the bathroom.
I directed my attention to that lovely masculine noise.
Shalimar’s phone and Aunt Celina’s sudden departure went lower on the priority list.
I am on the job. . .I should be working. . .
My body warmed, even though Jean-Pierre had muddled my body into soreness, from the hard-hitting thrusting out on the balcony, to the tongue whipping he did to my clit in the suite later.
I rose with the intent to shower with him. Deep in the lust-filled part of my mind, I knew there would be no washing happening with the sexy man in my shower.
The sound of running water calmed me.
I walked to him, feeling ridiculously gracious. He was gorgeous, providing, and accommodating. And his cock hung to his knees and he knew exactly how to use it. He played my body like a violin. At one point, I almost gave him a bow, yearning to hear what other moans I would let go.
Maybe, I should have extended longer? Is that crazy? Yes. I’m being crazy.
Second thoughts left as soon as I stepped into the bathroom.
Steam had moistened the space. Bright pink roses filled all the crystal vases in each corner of the room, filling the air with a flowery fragrance. The lights had been dimmed.
I strolled toward the shower.
It had no wall or glass door. Only three walls and an opening. Jean-Pierre had both of his hands planted on the wall in front of the shower’s head. His muscled back was to me. Water drenched his hair and streamed down in squiggly lines along his neck, tattooed back, and yummy ass. The violin’s skull glowed and moved under the flowing water.
I still can’t believe I’m getting paid for this.
That thought brightened me, and then it saddened me too within seconds.
How amazing would it have been if this was real?
If I were his actual girlfriend?
A relationship.
Not an experience.
An emotional connection.
Not a financial transaction.
I could’ve loved this man. Some feelings had already sparked in my heart.
I’d done my best to keep them down. Not pour any water on it. Not fertilize the soil or let the sun shine on it. Those feelings couldn’t be cultivated. They couldn’t grow, nor rise. Because in the end, there would be no harvest.
In this small time, he’d showed me that he could be everything that I yearned to have—loving, gentle, compassionate, and protective.
Another extension and I would beg to do this for free. Be careful, Eden. Very careful.
Anxious little knots bound inside my shoulders and piled inside the back of my neck. The longer I studied Jean-Pierre’s wet sculpted body, the more I stood there in this pit of unease.
Keep the emotions out of it. We’re playing. . .pretend.
With his back still to me, he asked. “Come inside?”
“You knew I was behind you?”
“Je sais toujours où tu es, mon amour.”
I smiled. “You always know where I am?”
“Oui.” He turned around.
I had a cute reply, but the words left my mouth.
He was a work of art. A cruel depiction of masculine beauty. Uncontrolled power. Dark. Sexy. And so fucking tempting.
The shower sprayed down that chiseled face, then hit the hard curve of his pecs to only stream down in delicious lines over the ridges of layered muscle. His cock hung, long, solid, and thick, but appeared close to rising. Water spilled over the length and dripped from the tip. With each drop, my body fell deeper into an ocean of lust. I drowned in it.
He leaned against the wall behind him. “Viens ici, douce sirène.”
I obliged and walked to him.
He gathered me in his arms. Warm water sprayed down my back, wetting my hair and drenching my body.
A soft moan left me.
He licked his lips. “How did you sleep?”
“Very well.”
I eyed his injured arm. “Where’s your sling?”
“In the garbage.”
I noticed the two wounds on his injured shoulder. They were the size of quarters. Someone had done jagged sewing to close them. They look newly healed, but I was no medical professional.
Not thinking, I blurted out, “What happened?”
He studied me.
“I’m sorry. That’s none of my business.”
He tucked some of my wet strands behind my ear. “I was shot twice in my shoulder. The doctor dug them out and sewed it up. The sling is to keep me from moving the healing muscle.”
“So, when we get out of the shower, I should take the sling out of the garbage?”
He frowned. “I’ll get a new one and put it on.”
“I’m not trying to nag, but I do like it when you can use both arms. Let’s make sure you heal correctly.”
“I like it when you get bossy.” He tilted my way and brushed his nose against my forehead as he inhaled me. A subtle gasp escaped my lips as he drew me into a kiss. When he pulled away, I rubbed my breasts against him.
“What’s the first thing you want to see today?” He licked my nipple’s point. “Where in Paris have you always dreamed of going to?”
“What do you want us to do today?”
He chuckled. “None of those ideas involve leaving our suite.”
“Do you want to stay in? You’re injured.”
“I thought I showed you last night that I wasn’t injured.” Teasing, Jean-Pierre nibbled along the curve of my breast. I jerked with each marking of his teeth on my skin. His bites tingled and delighted me all at the same time. He dipped his hands between my legs, and whispered, “I dreamed of you last night.”
I moaned.
“We lay on a floating island. Clouds surrounded us.” He slipped his finger inside of me. “We made love.”
Arching in response, I tried to pay attention to his words, but unable to ignore him toying with my body. “Oh, Jean-Pierre.”
“That’s what you whispered in my dream.”
I rocked into his hand. Jean-Pierre stroked my pussy faster and faster. With every thrust of his finger, it drove me crazy. I wanted my tongue on his body. Licking up and down and all around. I wanted his cock in my mouth. Sucking and stuffing it. I wanted to feel him deep inside of me. My mouth. My pussy. My ass. Slipping all over my skin.
I whispered in Fre
nch, “I need you. . .now.”
Hot throbbing lust coiled tight within me.
“Look at me, Eden.”
I hadn’t realized I’d closed my eyes as I drowned in the pleasure of his touch. I opened them and turned his way.
“Tell me what scares you.”
“My fears?”
“All of them.”
I parted my lips, not ready to discuss it with his hands between my thighs.
“I just want to know so I can destroy them.” He nipped at my bottom lip. “I don’t ever want you to fear anything.”
“You can’t take away my fears.”
“I could.” He slipped his finger out of my pussy and sucked on it.
I bit my lip.
“Tell me.”
“You can’t help me with my biggest fear.”
Warm water continued to spray around us. Steam rose.
He held me closer to me. “What’s your biggest fear right now?”
I let out a long breath. “My fear is that. . .while I’m with you. . .I’ll lose control.”
His gaze heated. That thick accent rode his voice as it lowered. “I want you to lose control.”
Gently, he lifted me up and pressed me against the moist shower wall. The warm stone smoothed along my skin, serving as a boundary to keep me right where Jean-Pierre wanted me.
He rubbed his thick mushroomed tip along my opening. “J'ai déjà perdu le contrôle avec toi.”
What did he say. . .he’s already lost control with me?
And as I stared into his eyes, I could feel myself losing control.
Unraveling.
And then our conversation shifted out of control too. Spiraling. Twisting. We rocked together in the warm shower. Water sprayed, and steam rose around us. Our music was our moans. The sound of thrusts. Hard and slow. Ecstasy played out on his gorgeous face.
He’d shed all masks with me.
I saw him as we made love.
The inside of him.
Jean-Pierre.
And it wasn’t simple visuals.
Emotions and feelings created the picture.
I was learning about him. The true Jean-Pierre. The part that he probably didn’t even know existed. I could feel that deep within me.
Or was it all in my mind?
Those eyes opened. I swore they did. Like windows. Each time he came. Each time he turned my way. Each time he smiled. I spied more of his insides. His essence. His core.