by Kresley Cole
I kept it noncommittal: "I'm local. I know better than to get involved with a tourist." This was true. No matter what they told you, they would always leave. Men and their promises.
Lucia smoothed her long, glossy hair over one shoulder. "Dmitri really likes you. A party this rowdy is a special kind of hell for him, but he's staying because you're having fun."
"He doesn't enjoy parties?"
"He's more of a lone-wolf type. This crowd must be trying for him." Almost to herself, she said, "I was so surprised he recommended we celebrate in Vegas."
I sipped my drink, logging info. "I can't believe he's single."
Jess snorted. "Despite my best efforts." She poured another round of shots. "But now I can rest."
As if he were no longer single? "It's all very sudden."
"You wanna know a secret?" Natalie asked with a hiccup. Only always, Dr. Nat. "That's how the men in this family are. Aleks told me he knew I'd be his wife after one look."
Wait, had she just said wife in a sentence even remotely associated with me?
Lucia nodded. "Maxim told me that as soon as he got close enough to see I had freckles, he knew he was 'fucked.' Clearly, we had some things to work out. But the point is, he knew within half an hour that I'd be his."
Jess was even more direct. "Dmitri's looking at you like he's been drowning for years, and you're a lifeline. Another Sevastyan brother gone at first sight. Dibs on wedding coordination services!" She started singing "Tale as Old as Time."
Could a gorgeous billionaire like Dmitri truly . . . want me want me? Or, more likely, were all these rich people crazy?
Silly, Vice. Every grifter knew that when you took your eyes off the immediate prize and your hands out of play, Lady Luck would frown upon you.
The lesson?
Never reach for the stars.
CHAPTER 5
________________________________________
___________________________________
In the hallway, Pete and I argued in whispers, sounding like two hissing cats.
"Are they fucking with you?" he demanded. "Playing games or something? Rich gulls are weird."
"Yes! They have to be." Once Dmitri had returned from the terrace--a mere ten minutes later--he'd seemed even more determined to make me enjoy the night, plying me with drinks and fancy foods.
The servers began treating me as if I were one of the people staying in that fantastical penthouse!
"This is the Sevastyans' idea of a joke," I whispered/hissed. "Amusing themselves with the peasants and shit." Rich people and con artists were like cats and dogs. No love lost between them. "I need to bail."
"What if it's not a joke? Do you understand what this could mean?"
I adjusted my purse strap on my shoulder. "That I maybe shouldn't have lifted Lucia's watch." We weren't usually straight-up thieves, much. And I'd never stolen from someone so nice.
No sins, still in?
"Vice!"
"I want to contribute, and even at fence value, the watch is a legit two-fifty." I'd stowed it in the false bottom of my purse. "Gotta be insured, right? They're so hammered, she'll think she lost it." The beauty of Vegas. Fresh marks flooded in every day, wearing their chum-pants as they dove into the shark tank. And they always left the city, which meant we never had to.
"You're drinking too," Pete pointed out. "Someone might've seen you lift it."
"The bodyguards don't even look at me anymore." And Vasili had disappeared. Good riddance. I could've strolled right into any of the bedrooms, and no one would've stopped me. "Besides, you try telling Jess you don't want a sixth tequila shooter."
"So now she's Jess? And Natalie is Nat? And you're regular old Vice, the plucky cocktail waitress with a heart of gold?" He swore under his breath. "Do I have to remind you? We're not like them. We're a different breed. . . ."
In a monotone, I repeated lines I'd heard all my life: "We're the last of the long-conners, the aristocrats of grifters. Living by our wits, smiled upon by Lady Luck. The only thing we can't cheat is fate. . . ."
"Yet you're melding with them? We do not meld with gulls." Feigning a look of realization, he said, "Oh wait, you already did once."
My ex-fiance. The one who'd betrayed me. The one who was still attempting to win me back. "Low blow, Pete."
"I'm trying to get your head in the game. I caught you looking at Dmitri with something like infatuation. You have to be cold to maneuver a guy like that."
"You're right. What am I doing?" I wobbled in my heels, the alcohol starting to hit hard.
"It's not too late to get it together. Vice, we might have a live one on the line. The Moby Dick of whales."
But nobody ever landed Moby Dick! "Pull the plug on this, man! We'll figure out a way to get Karin in here as primary. She's a lock. It's too big a score to blow, and I'm jinxed!" Pete was right; stock cons were way easier than this. Give me a greedy money-launderer or hard-up tax-evader any day!
Pete shook his head. "I've seen the way this guy looks at you. I can't describe it, but he seems addicted to you already. He won't accept anyone else. Trust me." We shared another laugh over that.
In reality, I did halfway trust my extended family of scoundrels. "So you're backing my play here?" I asked. "Backing me?"
"All in. Damn, you've already had the meet." He rubbed his chin. "I would've liked you to be in better lighting and not so tired from the week--"
"Come on!"
"I should've made sure you had the phone cloner." Which would've enabled us to see Dmitri's every text, e-mail, and online visit. "He handed you his telephone and turned his back." Pete looked disgusted. "That's on me." My cousin could give us all grief, but never more than he gave himself.
"The window was too short," I assured him. "Even with misdirection, I wouldn't have had enough time."
"Speaking of time . . . Where'd you tell Dmitri you were going?"
"I used my emergency-phone-ring app and said I needed to take the call. I should get back." And I really needed to pee.
"My host duties are done for the night." The party was winding down. "If I'm still here, it'll be weird not to join you guys. Can you handle this on your own?"
I raised my chin. "I've got it. All good." Please, Lady Luck, don't let me botch this!
"I'm a text away. Just watch yourself in there, Vice. And remember--we're a world apart from them."
So why had I felt so at home with that crew?
As I made my way back inside, Jess, Nat, and Lucia were talking to Dmitri. He looked antsy, his leg jogging.
Jess slurred, "Ever since you decided to mend fences with the big bro, I've been trying to set you up. Even though you were my last chance to go to Cirque du Cock."
Mend fences? Cirque du Cock? I ducked back into the foyer, listening in.
"Kuh-learly, I have now succeeded in setting you up, because I brilliantly invited every vegan here to our little party."
Nat hiccupped again. "The tribe has spoken, Dmitri. You are keeping Vice."
Lucia added, "We like her so much."
Jess said, "She's got these knowing eyes--you can tell she's seen things that leave a mark--but she blushes. Driving me fugging crazy! If you don't keep her, I will."
"Perhaps that is not at issue," Dmitri said. "Perhaps the crux is whether she will keep me."
My chest squeezed with panic. They weren't fucking with me. They thought I was a great gal who got their humor and matched their drinking. I fit in seamlessly and was hitting it off with one of their own.
How could they be so trusting? They had no idea what I was, yet they were letting me into their lives? I'd stolen a watch our fence would convert for a quarter of a million dollars, and I'd do it again. And dear God, the identity theft opportunities in those bedrooms . . .
I wanted to shake them. Stupid rich people.
Couldn't they see I was false gold?
I stared at the ceiling, my mind zooming to a memory from my early childhood. I'd been pensive and conf
used as I'd told my mom, "Gulls always say, 'If something seems too good to be true, it is.' That's supposed to be our secret, but it's out there, right in the open. Why don't they listen?"
"They get greedy and ignore what they know deep down," my beautiful mother had said. "Vice, never forget that we sell fairy tales. And fairy tales don't exist."
CHAPTER 6
________________________________________
___________________________________
When I opened the door to exit one of the guest bathrooms, Dmitri was striding down the hallway, heading for me with an intent look on his face.
Intent on what?
My God, he was huge. I instinctively backed up, which only trapped me with him. But when he shut and locked the door behind him, I wasn't anxious; I felt excitement . . . expectancy.
What would he do? We certainly wouldn't be the first strangers to get busy in a Vegas bathroom. Should I go along with the scenario?
Maybe, but a show of resistance wouldn't go amiss. "Dmitri, I'm not the type of girl who hooks up in bathrooms."
"I know."
"But you still want us to?"
He reached for my purse, setting it aside.
I guess he does. "I'm not going to have sex with you."
"Understood. Let down all that lovely hair of yours."
After a hesitation, I removed my hair stick, and the length tumbled over my shoulders. My hair was platinum, courtesy of some distant Norwegian ancestors, and had a little curl to it.
Dmitri appeared captivated as he ran his fingers through it. "Like silk," he said absently seeming not to realize he'd spoken aloud. "I want to see all this blond hair fanning out in my bed."
Could be in your future.
He wrapped the ends around his fist, then leaned down to graze his lips along my neck. His tongue flicked me, and the pleasure was so intense, I couldn't bite back a soft moan. I clutched his chest to keep my balance.
"I want my second kiss." He brushed his lips against mine. Once, twice . . . His tongue swept in.
I met it with my own, and heat shot through me.
He groaned against my lips, deepening the contact. As our tongues twined, my breasts began to ache, my thong getting damp. I was panting by the time he drew back.
His golden eyes looked darker with lust, now full amber. "So many things I want to do to you." His voice was husky. Releasing my hair, he said, "Turn to face the mirror."
"Pardon?" He'd muddled my thoughts.
"I'm going to give you commands. If you obey me, you'll be rewarded."
He'd warned me he would play games. "I don't know," I murmured, another show of hesitation before I played along. For my con, I was supposed to make his dreams come true--almost. Teasingly, and short of sex.
"Turn around." The seething need in his eyes made me do it.
When I faced the mirror, I thought I'd see bewilderment in my reflection. I was confronted by my own excitement. Did I like being bossed around?
"Lift your dress for me."
I wore only a white lacy thong. I nibbled my lip.
"You want to show your body to me."
I did. I really did.
No, the tequila must be making me loopy! All I could think over and over: Give him whatever he needs.
"Do it. Now." This control he wielded unnerved me--even as it aroused me.
Heart racing, I pinched the hem of my dress and started to raise it. Any shyness I'd expected--along with the impulse to cover myself--faded.
For some reason, I craved his gaze on my ass and my wet panties. But I took my time pulling my dress up to my waist.
He sucked in a breath, ogling my curves.
My face was on fire. Things were getting confused in my head until even my embarrassment was making me wet. And happy. Giddy, even. My lips curled.
"Is that a victory smile, Victoria? It should be. I'm coming undone. If you ever discover the extent of my attraction to you, I will be doomed."
"Doomed to what?" In the mirror, I gazed down his body.
His big cock surged against his pants. "To whatever it is my Victoria desires."
It's a material world, Russian.
"Keep your dress raised." He reached for me, using both hands to cup my cheeks, to knead them, to spread them. This wasn't a mere seduction. He was exploring me, his eyes lit with curiosity. A boy with a new toy.
He gripped my hips, head tilted down as he watched himself thrust against me. Low masculine sounds broke from his chest.
I inhaled sharply. His excitement and need were fueling the same in me, but I still said, "No sex, right?" I didn't think I physically could take that dick in me. Not without some prep time.
We met gazes in the mirror. "I'm not going to fuck you yet." Wait, yet? "Take off your dress. I must see more of you."
While he remained clothed? "Why should I?"
He gave me his thrall look. "Because, beautiful girl, this is the most pleasurable thing I have ever done, and I'll give anything for it to continue."
He wasn't . . . he wasn't lying?
I found myself unzipping the side of my dress. I drew it off, leaving only my bra, thong, and heels.
"Victoria," he growled. He dipped his gaze, then checked out my front in the mirror. "The treasures you've been hiding, woman." His control seemed to be slipping.
So what would happen if he lost it?
He ghosted his fingertips down my back, drawing a tremor. "Your back is sensitive?"
I'd never known. What was this guy doing to me? He continued down, fingers brushing over my ass. Without thinking, I raised it to follow his touch.
"Responsive."
He was making me sound like some kind of wanton sexpot; I wasn't. Not normally.
What if this man had the key? The key to me?
He bent to one knee, his hands roving over my legs, as if my body was a prize and he intended to worship every inch of it. He massaged my thighs, kissing the sides of them. On his way back to his feet, he pressed his lips to one cheek, then the other.
In the mirror, I watched my fight to keep my eyes open--
He nipped me with his teeth!
I squealed, but I kind of liked it.
Then he kissed his way up my back. "I will never get enough of this body." As he nuzzled my ear, he unsnapped my bra.
I caught it against my breasts, surprised by how swollen they'd become. "I don't know about wearing only a thong while you're still dressed." Honey traps tantalized. They didn't roll over at the mark's every whim.
Instead of ordering me to let my bra go, he piled up my hair and traced his lips across my nape, drawing a shiver from me. His heated breaths and firm lips undermined my resistance. His reaction to the rest of my body had been so thrilling. With each of his touches, I yearned to show this strange man more, to jut my aching tits and raise my ass for him.
"Victoria, you must show me all your treasures while I've still enough control to enjoy them fully." He turned me to face him.
I let his spell take me over. I dropped the bra.
He didn't glance down. Not yet. He gave my mouth a brief kiss--praise?--then he lowered his gaze.
His response was worth my flush of embarrassment. He closed his eyes tight, then opened them, as if he'd expected me--or my tits--to disappear. In a gravelly voice, he said, "You have the most exquisite breasts I've ever seen." He stared at them with lust, but also with an eager curiosity, as if he'd been dying to know what I looked like beneath my clothes.
Without warning, he lifted me up on the marble counter, easing his hips between my knees. His Adam's apple bobbed as he reached for my chest with both hands. . . .
Contact.
A breath shuddered out of his lungs; I moaned, arching into his palms.
"I could come in my pants just from the feel of you." His huge dick strained against the material to get free.
I reached for it, needing to fondle him, to learn what made him groan--
"Ah-ah. Not yet. Hands on the counter."
When I reluctantly obeyed, he circled one puckered nipple with a forefinger. Again. And again. Never varying his maddening speed.
My clit began to throb along with my nipples. I whispered, "Oh, my God." When my head lolled, he cupped my nape, holding me steady. "Dmitri . . ." This was something like, like adoration.
He placed his other hand on my back, forcing me to arch even more to him. He bent to rub the side of his face against my chest.
I felt his low, guttural groan. Panting, I watched him nuzzle my breasts, looking as if he'd lost himself.
His hot exhalations whispered across one nipple, then . . . his tongue.
"Oh, yes!" I threaded my fingers into his thick black hair, gripping his head. I heard myself repeatedly whispering his name.
"You like what I do to you." I could have sworn he was grinning against my breast.
I wanted to see his grin! The thought vanished when he sucked the peak between his lips.
I was levitating! His mouth was so hot, his tongue strong as he teased my nipple. A graze of teeth made me whimper.
Then he lavished the same care on my other breast. Could I come from this?
When he suckled with hungry pulls, my eyes flashed wide, then slid closed. Sounds bombarded me. The music from the penthouse. My desperate moans. His blissed-out groans. The wet suction of his mouth . . .
Too soon, he drew back. "Pull your panties aside."
Between breaths, I asked, "Why am I the only one baring it all?" I'd had a half Brazilian, leaving a small thatch of hair on my mons. Would he like that?
He arched a brow. "You want me to have skin in the game?"
Wordplay? Ah, delicious!
"Perhaps you'll like being naked next to a fully dressed man."
The idea felt wicked; I'd be so vulnerable to him. Could I really do this with someone I'd just met?
"Show me how wet you are, Victoria."
I swallowed with nervousness, but I did tug aside my thong. Cool air hit my lips.
Grating something harsh in Russian, he stared at my pussy like it was a revelation, the highlight of his entire life. His riveted gaze made me tremble. With his brows drawn, he tenderly caressed the backs of his fingers over my lips. "Beautiful girl. You're fucking mouthwatering."
Beautiful. Mouthwatering.
"Look at this light hair. I'm glad you left some." Then he parted me. "Ah! You're drenched."
My face burned. I'd never felt more exposed.