by L. L. Ash
“Good man,” Max said from behind me, squeezing my shoulder as I wiped at my tears.
“I guess we don’t have to worry about anyone coming after us, huh?” I asked, my voice shaky.
“Maybe not,” he agreed, sort of. “You could probably take on an identity with your original name, but maybe you should adopt another name. Kovac is a good name.”
I turned to him and his black eyes shone like pure onyx.
“There’s a step before that though,” I told him, feeling shivers slide up my skin at the prospect.
“What’s that?” he asked, putting his hands gingerly around my hips.
“You have to marry me first.”
A smirk tilted his lips.
“That goes without saying. I’d be a dumbass if I didn’t marry you and put you on lockdown before you realized what a completely shit deal you’re getting.”
I laughed, sliding my hand up his cheek, coarse with a week’s worth of beard growth.
“Probably a good idea,” I agreed, then let him kiss me.
“Your car is here,” a gruff voice said from behind me, interrupting us.
Max sighed but backed away.
“Keep that letter. It’s one of the things we’ll take with us.”
Of course I would.
Slipping it back into the envelope, I tucked it tightly into the side of my purse before following Max out of the room. Zoya met us again at the door to say goodbye, but there was something distant in her eyes as she did. She probably knew that I would never be back, and we would likely never see each other again.
Even still, I would always be grateful for knowing her. She saved my life just with her words. How many people could say that?
“I pray for your happiness,” I told her, kissing her cheek before leaving the building, holding onto Max’s hand.
A car was waiting to deliver us to the airport, and little more than an hour and a half later, they did. Again, we stood in front of the departing board and found the nearest flight, in twenty-five minutes.
“Norway?” he asked me.
“I suppose I always wanted to see the Northern Lights.”
“Norway it is,” Max said, pulling me along behind him with a pep in his step, despite the pain he felt with every breath.
“How is your Norwegian?” I asked him.
He grinned back at me and said simply, “Dritt.”
Whatever that meant, I supposed we’d get through it together just as we had everything else.
Grinning, I walked up to the man at the ticket counter and listened to Max get our tickets to the foreign land.
Together.
We’d do everything together from now on. There was something charming and homely about that, and it just made my insides warm and fuzzy.
“Ready?” Max asked me when he handed over our tickets.
“Ready,” I agreed.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Maxim
I went over the conversation I had with Vishka over and over again while we started off in the plane.
Mila was so excited, and to be fair, so was I. But his words kept replaying over and over again.
You took care of a real headache for me, Ghost. Whenever you need something, you’ve got it.
A favor from an ultra-powerful man. It was a good thing to have around. But at the same time, he wanted my number, too.
The man had asked to meet with me in his office early in the morning, while Mila was being examined by the doctor. I explained that my days as an assassin were over, but he wanted me in his back pocket, just in case.
Funny how that works. I wasn’t his man, didn’t do anything but help a friend, and now I answered to him, and there wasn’t really a thing I could do about it. He could get to us no matter where we were, and if it so happened that he did call me, well, then I would have a choice to make.
Not that it mattered. I could disappear again if I wanted to, but I didn’t want to force that on Mila unless it became completely necessary. For the moment, we would enjoy a taste of true freedom for the first time, and we would do it together.
“Gotta piss,” I told Mila the moment the seat belt light went off.
She nodded and watched me get up.
I locked myself in the bathroom to do just that, but I also needed just a little space to get my head on straight. Stress had become my constant companion, along with paranoia and pessimism. Mila deserved more than that, so I would try damn hard to be more upbeat for her.
“Oh, my poor husband hurt his ribs in a car accident,” came Mila’s voice from outside the door. “I just want to make sure he’s ok. He’s been in there a few minutes because he needed to stand.”
The flight attendant must have agreed, because Mila knocked on the door a moment later.
I barely opened it before she shoved her way inside and clicked it closed, and locked.
The woman came at my face, her lips latching to mine in a moment, even though we were hovering over a toilet and tiny little sink with barely enough space to stand.
“Have you ever heard of the mile high club?” Mila breathed between kisses.
I grinned and nodded, dragging kisses down her neck.
She stifled a moan as I did, then added, “I always wanted to join. Can you make it quick?”
Uh, after more than a week of abstinence, I would probably blow before I even got in her cunt.
“I can make it fast,” I assured her, then went to the stretchy band of her leggings.
Sliding them down over her ass, I hiked up one of her knees before lowering my boxer briefs and shoving into her.
Fuck it felt like heaven.
My pants were already undone from pissing, so it made the job quick, clean, and ohmygod…
Mila dragged down one side of her top and popped out a breast, letting the pink nipple wink at me with each jostle we made. I missed her tits.
“We’re getting a hotel in Oslo,” I huffed, out of breath already as my lungs screamed in protest from the bruise on my ribs. “And I’m going to fuck you on ever surface of that Goddamn hotel room. Shower, bath, couch, bed, floor...”
She squeezed her eyes shut and I watched her face compress and then bloom in pleasure as she came all over my cock.
Fuck, that’s all she wrote for me.
I came too, growling into Mila’s neck so we didn’t make noise that someone would hear.
BANG-BANG-BANG
Shit.
The moment Mila was cognizant again, her cheeks bloomed a bright red as she pulled up her pants and tucked her magnificent tit back into her shirt.
“You breathing ok?” she asked loudly, obviously for the benefit of the person outside the door.
“Yeah. Hurts, but I’ll make it. A few more weeks and the pain will be gone completely. Maybe we should consider staying in Oslo until it’s better.”
Mila grinned at me, then kissed me once more as she went to open the door.
Aw shit, I was still hanging out of my pants.
Tucking myself back in and buttoning my jeans, I turned to wash my hands as Mila exited the bathroom.
“I think that’s a good idea. We'll let you rest up, then maybe we can head back to New York.”
Hmm, New York, huh? Did she really want to go to the US?
“Ma’am, you must go to your seat,” the flight attendant said with a firm voice.
“Do you have any pain medication on board?” Mila asked the woman instead.
That was when I made my grand exit from the bathroom with my hand pressed to my side, lifting my shirt so the woman saw the massive bruise still coloring my skin black and purple.
“Is it at least looking better?” I asked Mila.
The flight attendant saw the bruise and flushed.
“I’ll go check on that right now. I believe we have acedimidiphine if that will help,” she said, then rushed off.
Hey, at least we didn’t get in trouble with the help. The rest of the three and a half hour flight would have been migh
ty awkward.
Mila led the way back to our seats, and not a few minutes later the woman was handing me a pillow, a cup filled with water and a packet of Tylenol.
“We also have a warm water bottle I can make if necessary,” she offered, her best smile beaming down at us.
“This is perfect, thank you,” I told her then drank down the pills as she watched.
I’d need them just to make it to Amsterdam where we would have to wait for an hour for the connecting flight.
“Thank you,” Mila told her, then stuffed the pillow between my ribs and the arm handle.
I nearly spit my water out at the sharp, shooting pain she made rip through me with the kind gesture.
“Thanks,” I choked out, then adjusted the pillow before attempting to relax.
We went first class, hoping it would help with my side, and the seats did have more padding and room. A simple splurge that made the trip easier to endure for both of us.
“If you need anything else, just let me know,” the attendant said before practically running off again.
Turning to my woman, the pretty little black-turned-blonde haired, blue eyed fox that had stolen my heart.
“Welcome to the mile high club,” I told her with a grin.
“Glad we could be in it together,” she said with a smile of her own. “Our first real couple’s activity!”
I laughed and dropped my head to her shoulder, breathing in the soft, floral and cottony scent that was just hers.
I was one spoiled bastard, and I was going to enjoy every last moment to its fullest.
Epilogue
Maxim
I couldn’t believe it was finally happening. For the first time since Mom had died, I had a family again.
Mila stood with me in front of a judge, taking on my name in the middle of fucking New York City.
Serge stood as witness with his wife Adele and their baby Ami held tightly in her arms. They were a handsome family, I had to admit.
And for the first time since I had my procedure, I regretted it. I wished I could give Mila children the way she’d always dreamed, but we had talked about maybe adopting. For now though, she was focused on her career and I was focused on her. We kept each other pretty damn busy.
As the judge went over Mila’s vows, I heard Mom’s voice in my head, reciting that damn poem The Bronze Horseman again. It never seemed to apply so well until I met the woman of my dreams, then it started making a whole hell of a lot more sense.
‘Get married? Why not? I suppose
It’s not the lightest of decisions.
But then I’m young; my health is strong;
I’m ready to work hard and long;
I was ready, mind, heart and soul. All those things, I gave to her.
“I do,” Mila murmured, looking into my eyes.
I slipped a wedding band onto her already diamond encrusted finger, and she slid a thin steel band onto mine.
And it was done. A physical thing to reinforce the promises we’d already made to each other.
On our way from the courthouse, Serge and Adele gave us big hugs as we waited in the street, the hot, humid, early summer sun beaming down on us.
“I meant to ask you,” Serge said to me as Mila and Adele talked. “We’ve got some space at the company if you want to join us. It’s not in the business you left, but I know you work hard, and you’re damn bored. I’m sure we can find something interesting for you to do.”
The days were boring and long until Mila returned from practices in the evenings.
“Why the hell not,” I agreed. “Thanks, bro.”
He gave me a slap on the shoulder, then took his wife’s hand.
“C’mon babe. You know they’re eager to get home and get it on. The wedding night only comes once! Well, unless you’re us.”
Adele gave him the stink eye.
“I’m having a conversation!”
“Well, have that conversation later before they start dry humping in the street!”
Adele rolled her eyes, but Mila laughed and looked toward me.
God, she was beautiful.
“I would like to get home,” Mila agreed. “We’ve got to practice making some babies.”
I coughed out a laugh, trying to hide it.
Serge didn’t. The bastard was obsessed with sex and loved every part of it, even involving humor.
“Fine. But we’ll have brunch soon and talk this over. And you!”
She pointed her finger at me with every measure of threat a woman as fiery as her could have.
“You take good care of her, or I’ll sic the Russians on you. You understand?”
With a hearty laugh, I agreed.
“I will. Don’t worry.”
We went our own ways and the two of us grabbed a taxi back to our loft in SoHo. The place was fancy and sleek, but Mila had already made it more homey with touches of us in it. Well, that and we’d fucked on just about every surface and piece of furniture in the house. That would do it, too.
“So, wedding night,” I said, wrapping her in my arm as we stepped out of the taxi.
It was the middle of the afternoon, but so help me, I’d make it last until dark if I had to. I wanted her wedding day to be memorable, even if we couldn’t expose ourselves by having a big, grand affair.
“Wedding night. Do you have anything special planned?”
I just winked at her and unlocked our door, letting her in.
Mila
Together we stalked through our kitchen and up the pretty stairs to our bedroom loft with purpose. Of course we’d made love so many times I couldn’t begin to count, but this time it was different. Special.
Once we were in our bedroom, looking down at the rest of our home below, I felt his fingers brush away the straps of my white summer dress.
Adele had helped me shop for it, and it only took five different stores before we found the right one.
“You want to know my favorite part about being married to you?” Max asked, his voice rumbling in my ear as he unzipped the back of my dress.
The entire thing fell to the ground as I turned to look at him.
“What is that?”
“My favorite part is that I get to say that I’m yours. Finally, officially.”
“You’ll always be mine,” I told him, grinning as his deft fingers undid the eye and hook closure of my bra.
It too, fell to the ground before his hands found me, palms against bare, soft skin.
He hummed low and sensual in my ear as he slid his fingers into the band of my white lace thong.
“Always,” he agreed in a whisper as his fingers slid into the wet, aching slit between my legs.
I leaned back into him as he curled around me, taking my weight as if it was nothing while he worked me with just his fingers.
“You’re so fucking ready,” he whispered, his voice thick with lust and rigid control.
“I’m always ready for you,” I admitted as his fingers moved from working my clit to plunging into my core.
I groaned so loudly that the sound echoed off the walls and came back to us.
“I love hearing you scream for me in surround sound,” he said, then took his fingers out of me before hefting me onto our bed with one mighty toss.
Landing on the mattress, I bounced just a little before he was over me, covering me as our lips met.
“I love you, you sexy man,” I breathed against his lips, letting my fingers drag down each and every bump of his chest and abs until my fist wrapped around his erection.
He groaned, thrusting into my hand.
“Love you,” he whispered back. “More than anything else.”
And he meant that. He meant every single word.
My legs spread, opening up to him while I dragged him further toward my entrance, begging for him there.
“I’m trying to make this last,” he said with a laugh, although he teased me with the head of his cock.
“Why, when we have the rest of o
ur lives?”
“I like the sound of that,” he said, then grunted while driving hard into me.
His lips closed around a breast, tasting and nibbling my nipple until I was thrashing, just how he liked. His big hand moved between us and he stroked, rubbing my clit until I was gasping and panting and crying out in glorious agony. He joined me in it, our yells almost harmonious as they echoed through the room.
“Good thing we got all our lives, because you make me jizz like a teenager.”
I laughed and tugged at the beard Max was starting to grow as another insurance of his disguise.
“You’ll get better,” I told him. “Maybe you’ll even reach puberty before the night is over.”
“You little—!” he called, tossing me over onto my belly before slapping my rear until it stung.
I laughed and laughed, and he joined me before his stinging hands moved over me with slow, gentle strokes.
“It’s healing well,” he said, finger tracing the scar left from my gunshot wound.
“Good. I’m glad to hear that.”
Max must have given up on his revenge, because he collapsed next to me and cuddled me into his arms, curling his body protectively around me.
We might live a peculiar lifestyle compared to most, but we'd never lived 'normal' lives either. I knew Max had to live undercover, God forbid the government saw that he wasn’t actually dead. We made it work. And with my new identity, I carried my name, and his last name, and I was able to sing again. The man who took me away from everything I ever knew had made every last one of my dreams come true. Child or not, we were happy.
“Serge wants me to work at his wife’s shopping network channel thing,” he said, fingers sliding through my hair absently with the words.