by Warren, Rie
Boris stood ever watchful at my side, his tongue lolling out in hopes of catching any spilled food.
Too many thoughts crawled under my skin.
The things I’d said to Joanna last night.
“If I don’t deliver something from your family, your life is worthless, unless—”
My threat—my intimidation—had been real.
But the unless part . . .
From what Rodney had intimated, Jo was wanted. By a lot of men.
Her brother hadn’t denied that part of the story.
These men wanted her possibly even to marry her and there could be good money in that, which was why I hadn’t told Yury.
I wouldn’t tell Arkady or Maksim either.
What if I marry her?
What if I wanted to have that particular redheaded shrew tied to me for the rest of my life like a waspish ball and chain?
Nyet.
But the Irish couldn’t possibly retaliate against us then.
Not when their printsessa rightfully belonged to me.
Boris whined.
I fed him some bacon.
His claws tapped after me as I made my way to my captive with a breakfast tray in hand.
Stepping inside the bedroom, I admired the sight of Jo all naked and trussed up.
She hadn’t managed to get free of the bindings that time.
Glorious red hair fanned out across my pillows.
And bright flames blazed from her narrowed eyes.
I remembered everything about sleeping beside her last night—the kisses, her heat, the wild hunger that definitely wasn’t one-sided.
Setting down the tray, I approached her to remove my handkerchief from her mouth.
I expected her to bite off my fingers, but she didn’t.
She did snarl, however.
And she looked screaming mad but, somehow, she held her tongue.
Probably because she wanted something from me just like any other female.
After untying her wrists, I gently kneaded her arms before lowering them to her sides.
Meanwhile, Boris jumped onto the bed and settled down at her side.
This dog.
Jo petted him, and I cushioned pillows behind her back. I even tugged the blanket up over her breasts.
My fingertips skimmed across her nipples in the process, and she arched to my touch.
My fingers burned, and I wanted nothing more than to cup her tits, suck her nipples into my mouth, let my hands glide down her body.
Instead I set the tray of food on her lap.
Boris panted at her side.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” Mistrust crept into her tone.
“Because it appears you learned the hard lesson from last night and you haven’t lashed your tongue at me yet today, so this is your reward.”
“That’s because you gagged me before I could!”
And then there was that.
Shrugging, I waved at her to get on with the food.
I could tell she was about to fly off on a tirade, but her appetite got the better of her.
She dug in, eating with one hand while feeding Boris scraps with the other.
I could see he’d never be loyal to me again.
Didn’t matter I was the one who’d saved him off the streets and fed him premium food, bathed him, took him to the vet.
The mutt was enamored.
I sucked in my cheeks when the blanket folded low between Jo’s breasts.
Looking away, I tapped my fingers against my leg.
I’d have to jerk off or fuck the woman.
And very damn soon.
“What did Lucky say?”
When I glanced back, Joanna’s gold-flecked gaze met mine.
“He wants to meet.”
She sat up straight, and the blanket pooled at her waist. “To get me back?”
Suddenly, I couldn’t bear to see the hope die from her eyes, but Lucky hadn’t asked that.
Not of me.
Not yet.
I took the tray away, setting it on top of a dresser.
When I turned to her, she still perched hopefully, peering at me.
“He said we have some things to discuss, Jo. There was no mention about your return.”
I watched her swallow.
She shrank back. “Did he say anything about my da?”
I considered whether to tell her the truth or not.
She deserved some of it at least.
“He said your father won’t be there. And I vowed Yury wouldn’t either.”
Nodding slowly, she swept one hand along the far side of the bed where I’d lain.
Retracting her hand, she screwed up her lips and glanced aside. “My brothers wouldn’t sell me out.”
“You better hope not. For your sake.” Except my threat wasn’t as intimidating as usual. “I haven’t decided what to do yet. Not with you or your brothers.”
“I understand,” she whispered. “Can I shower now?”
I let her know she was free to get up, and she struggled to her feet with the sheet wrapped around her.
“Door open,” I insisted.
So instead of slamming the bathroom door, she once again banged the shower slider with jarring force.
While she cleaned up, I foraged around in my dresser for something she could wear.
Keeping her naked for the entire day had its appeal, but I needed her with me since she couldn’t be trusted on her own.
Not after her party trick last night, getting free of the bondage.
After laying out some clothes, I lingered just outside the bathroom door, enjoying the sight of her as she dried off.
At first she scowled at me.
Then a spark gleamed in her eyes.
Flipping the damp tendrils of her long hair over one shoulder, Jo smoothed the towel from her neck and down between her breasts. Breasts that glowed with moisture clinging to the pretty mounds.
I watched her from beneath lowered eyelids, my nostrils flaring at the teasing sight of her.
She became even more treacherous when she played the role of seductress.
My cock thickened, my balls heavy and aching for the release I hadn’t gotten last night.
I should’ve just taken her.
She’d been willing.
Now she purposefully tempted me.
She pretended to ignore me all while putting on a show for me.
I couldn’t look away when she lifted one foot and placed it on the closed lid of the toilet. She stood sideways to me, arching her foot. She bent her leg at the knee, and slowly swiped up the long slim length.
She repeated the sensual process with the other side, her tits dangling slightly, her gem-like nipples puffy from the heat of the shower.
I swallowed roughly, my gaze burning into her willowy body.
When she drew the end of the towel up through her slit, I remembered what she’d felt like, aroused and dripping on my lap last night.
After hanging up her towel, she sauntered up to me.
I moved aside, and she passed, brushing dangerously close to a man who could easily dominate her.
I balled my hands into fists so I wouldn’t touch her.
If I touched her, I’d fuck her. I’d pound her sweet body right through the mattress or nail her against the wall.
Completely naked and not trying to hide her assets, she spotted the clothes on the bed.
She hooked up a pair of my gym shorts with a flutter of her eyelashes. “For me? You shouldn’t have.”
“Just get dressed unless you want me all over you. Because I’m about ten seconds from bending you over the end of the bed so I can get my cock in your tight pink cunt, malyshka. And I won’t stop after just one rough fucking either.”
My warning pushed her into action, and she donned the clothes quickly.
The shorts cinched at her waist hung down to her knees.
The tank top draped over her, ridiculously large and, if she bent over,
she’d end up flashing everyone.
She huffed.
I grinned then motioned her to turn around before I approached her.
She flashed a look at me from over her shoulder. “What are you gonna do?”
“Just making sure you don’t let anyone else see those beautiful breasts of yours, Joanna.” My fingers skimmed across her shoulders before I gathered the two straps of the tank top to tie them together at the middle of her spine.
When I finished, the top at least sat against her upper body almost modestly.
The possessive beast inside me liked that my stamp of ownership was all over her—my clothes again. Then there were the lingering marks on her ass where I’d spanked her last night.
No panties and no bra made the outfit even better.
“So fashionable.” Jo clearly disagreed.
“I’d say it’s a step up from what you came here wearing yesterday.”
She glared, and I chuckled at how easy her temper was to rouse.
“What about my feet?”
Reluctantly, I gathered her boots from my walk-in closet and tossed a pair of socks at her.
Even the socks swamped her feet, but she stuffed on her boots and stood up.
Boots, baggy shorts, big tank top.
Somehow, she still made my mouth water. I hadn’t even tasted her pussy yet, but I knew she’d be honey-hot down there. She’d be lush and wet with copious juices I could lap up and smear all over my lips.
I picked up the breakfast tray. “Come.”
“You’re not taking me down to that dreadful dungeon again, are you?”
“Now that you mention it . . .” I walked into the kitchen and set the tray down.
Behind me, Jo stomped her foot. “Kirill!”
I looked at her with a grin on my lips.
With her flaming red hair shivering over her shoulders and sparks shooting from her rich hazel eyes, she was beautiful. Baggy shorts and all.
“We’re going down to the club.” Whistling for Boris, I opened the elevator.
Downstairs, our construction crew had cleaned up most of the debris.
The brain-battering noise of tradesmen putting everything to rights and preparing The Sickle for opening that night blasted against my skull—nail guns, saws, loud shouts . . .
I ushered Jo with Boris into the huge kitchen.
Both Maksim and Arkady were already there.
“You survived the night then?” Arkady suppressed a grin as he glanced from Jo to me.
“Yes. Thanks,” she answered curtly while I pressed her into a chair.
Boris took up loyal residence at her side.
“My brother was talking to me.” I tweaked a length of Jo’s hair just hard enough to make her hiss.
“Ha! Why should he be concerned about you? I don’t even have my switchblade anymore,” she mumbled.
Maksim watched the two of us silently.
He was never much one for talking, probably because he had to listen to Sasha prattling all day long about utter nonsense.
It appeared she and Yury weren’t here yet, which worked out for me.
Leaning down, I whispered near Jo’s ear, “Don’t move.”
I paced around her just in time to witness the exaggerated roll of her eyes.
Drawing Arkady and Maksim to the far side of the kitchen, I made sure I could keep an eye on Jo just in case she decided to do anything rash.
With my ill-tempered captive peering at me just as intently as I watched her, I switched easily to the mother tongue. For all I knew, the aggravating female could probably read lips.
I still kept my voice low, because I knew she had at least a vague rudimentary understanding of Russian. “Her oldest brother called this morning.”
Arkady’s expression hardened. “Did that Irish fuck call to apologize? Did he offer something in exchange for Jo? Because right now I’d just rather raze their operations to the ground.”
Maksim grunted in agreement.
“He didn’t say much at all other than to make sure I hadn’t killed the girl yet.”
Maksim snorted.
“In that case I propose we just take them all out.” As underboss, Arkady couldn’t make that decision any more than I could.
“There was one interesting thing. Lucky requested a meetup.”
“Hell no.” Maksim finally opened his mouth to protest.
“Not after last night.” And that was Arkady.
“I agree they’re untrustworthy, but we have the advantage. We still have their sister,” I stated.
“Maybe.” A frown beetled between Arkady’s brows.
“One other thing. Lucky said their father wouldn’t be in on this, and neither should Yury.”
Both of my brothers’ faces took on looks of disbelief.
Arkady said, “That’s treasonous.”
“We should at least think about hearing them out,” I insisted.
“Why?”
“We have everything to gain, and they have everything to lose.”
Running his hands through his hair, Arkady squinted at our youngest brother. “What do you say, Maksim?”
He crossed big arms over his chest and nodded. “Da. We go.”
“Might be worth it to get the girl off your hands,” Arkady added.
I bristled at the mere mention of the idea.
Still speaking in Russian, I said, “I’m not sure her clan even care about her.”
“What business is that of ours? We just took her to get what they owe us. Like Yury said, if she turns out to be worthless, she’s dead.” Rubbing a hand across his jaw, Arkady stared over at our prize.
But I knew she was worth something more, and it was no longer about trading her back or even selling her off to someone else like Rodney had suggested.
“And what do you care anyway?” Arkady kept at it.
I let a slow devious grin work across my mouth. “I haven’t had my fill of fun with her yet.”
I hadn’t even started.
“You fucked her?” Maksim lifted one brow.
“Not yet.”
Both brothers looked at me as if I’d grown two heads, and Arkady mentioned, “Why don’t you just take her to bed and get her out of your system?”
“She’s been in my bed.”
“So?”
“I don’t fuck the unwilling.”
“I don’t think she’s as unwilling as she pretends to be, Kirill.” Swiveling his head again, Arkady brought my attention to Jo.
She slanted forward in the chair, staring raptly.
At me.
I turned back to my brothers. “Who are you kidding? She’s probably trying to figure out if she can disarm me or get away with making a mad dash for safety.”
10
Jo
THOSE THREE MEN HAD secured themselves across the kitchen from me. They were cooking up plans—not food—over there. I was sure of it. They’d switched to Russian so I couldn’t figure out exactly what though.
Now they all peered over—Kirill with unmistakable masculine interest, Arkady with amusement tugging up the corners of his mouth, and Maksim appearing bemused.
“What are you staring at?” I demanded.
All three of the big hulking brothers ambled back over, and their sheer size intimidated me. Not enough to make me shut my mouth even though my backside still smarted as I sat on the hard chair.
At least the expensively kitted out kitchen of The Sickle had been spared from last night’s shootout. Extensive repairs seemed ongoing in the club, noise from the builders invading this adjoining space.
“I was just telling them how I tamed you last night.” Kirill pressed one hand onto the table beside me.
The hot spanking. The long, savagely searing kiss.
Blushing and sputtering, I shot up from the chair.
He chuckled and winked, and I prayed he was lying.
It was bad enough my body had betrayed me. Kirill had aroused me beyond anything I’d ever experien
ced. I didn’t need the entire Bratva to know.
I was just about to blast him the tongue-lashing I’d refrained from earlier when a squat round woman bustled into the nightclub’s large kitchen.
She wore stylish slacks, a silk blouse . . . and Crocs.
I glanced down at my own scuffed boots and felt slightly less out of place.
Otherwise dressed in expensively tailored clothing, the old woman still gave off the air of a bossy but caring grandmother.
She carried several string grocery bags, which Kirill swooped in to retrieve from her.
She patted his cheeks with plump hands.
Sasha waltzed in then Yury appeared too.
No matter how much Kirill infuriated or scared me, the pakhan of the Zolotov outfit inspired the purest dread, the kind that coldly seeped through my bones.
“Dobroye utro. Good mornink.” The old woman greeted everyone.
Sasha threw several more bags onto the table then clasped my hands in hers.
She drew me to the stranger. “Baba, this is Joanna. Jo, my babushka, Svetlana.”
I had no idea how this matriarch would react to me, an enemy of her family, but she was exactly how I’d picture someone’s granny since I didn’t know my own and had no women in my life.
Baba pulled me to her with both hands clasping my face. She greeted me with kisses on both cheeks then held me at arm’s length. “Ryzhiye volosy kak koroleva.”
“You never say anything like that to me.” Sasha pouted good-naturedly.
“I’d say Joanna’s more like a hoyden,” Kirill mentioned, and all the men guffawed including Yury.
I was still in the dark when Svetlana released me.
“What’d she say?” I asked.
The babushka had moved onto her granddaughter. “Bah. You dress like a streetwalker.”
“You’re wearing Crocs and you’re not even a nurse,” Sasha screeched. Then she twisted toward me. “What about her? She’s wearing gym shorts.”
“Da.” The old woman wagged a finger at Kirill. “No way to treat a lady.”
Sasha snaked her head back and forth with an, “Mm hmm.”
But she wasn’t done doling out the ass whoopings.