by Ava Kendrick
I took a deep breath, telling myself to snap out of it. “Not really. It’s just been a bad week.”
She shook her head sheepishly. “Okay, let’s talk about something else. Work isn’t exactly my own favorite subject right now either. Are you originally from the city?”
I nodded. “Born and bred.”
“You grew up around here?”
“Nah. I grew up in St. Peters. You know it?”
She shook her head.
“It used to be an old Russian neighborhood. All redeveloped now.”
She frowned. “That’s sad.”
I shrugged. I had mixed feelings about the old neighborhood. I’d had an idyllic childhood, but I’d fallen in with a bad crew. I’d met Maria in St. Peters, but St. Peters was the reason was dead. One of the reasons—the main reason was me. I’d pissed off the wrong people and instead of killing me they’d targeted her.
“Yes and no,” I said quickly. It was strange—I never talked about personal shit, but I felt the strangest urge to tell this woman everything about myself. “It was a great place to grow up. But dangerous too. Gangs.”
Shut up, Roman. What if she suspects?
“Gangs?” she whispered.
I nodded, unable to stop myself now. “The Bratva. They ruled the neighborhood. I was engaged. Almost ten years ago now. She… They…”
Cleo’s eyes were wide and shining. “What happened?” she whispered.
I stared down at my menu, words swimming in front of my eyes. “She got shot.”
“Why?” she gasped.
Because of me, I thought bitterly.
I forced myself to focus. There were some things I could never tell Cleo, no matter how much I wanted to bare my soul to her.
Bare your soul? You just want to fuck her. Not spend your life with her.
“Roman, I’m so sorry.”
She grasped my hand across the table. Her touch sent sparks of electricity shooting through my body. I told myself that it meant nothing; that I just really wanted to fuck this girl.
“Can I get you guys anything to drink?”
I looked up, relieved to see our waiter. His timing was impeccable—if he hadn’t shown up, I might have told Cleo way more than I should have. As it was, I’d revealed way too much of myself. It was like the risks didn’t matter when I was around her—further proof that I was treading on dangerous ground.
“I’ll have a beer,” I said, looking down at the menu.
“A mineral water for me, please,” Cleo whispered.
I stared at her. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those women who drink diet water and only ever eat salad?”
“I’ll give you folks a moment,” our server said.
Cleo raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got a short memory. No I thought I’d better detox after last week.”
“So you’re not going to give me shit about ordering the biggest steak they’ve got.”
She shook her head with a delightful laugh. “Hell, no. A good steak is about the best thing in this world. Apart from—”
“A good fuck?”
She smiled, but even in the dim orange light of the restaurant I could see her cheeks had turned rosy. “I was gonna say Julia’s homemade carnitas. But that too.”
And I could tell, I could just tell from her tone that she didn’t mean that. I just couldn’t believe it. I mean a girl like her; she was what, mid-twenties? And no guy she’d met had been capable of taking her home and giving her the fuck of her life? It almost made me want to scream. What the hell was wrong with all these hipsters and bankers?
I couldn’t make a life with her, but I could give her one thing. I decided then. I was going to make her scream with pleasure in a way that she’d never forget.
Eleven
Cleo
I shook my head. He’d surprised me. I’m not a prude; not at all. I’m just not used to people talking like that. So earthy. So blatant.
Fucking.
Roman had this strange effect on my body, where I just had to look at him to feel a tingle of excitement. When I’d left his apartment after seeing him in his underwear, I’d prayed all the way home that Julia would be gone to work already. Because that way I wouldn’t have had to sneak into the bathroom and run the shower while I got myself off. Thankfully she wasn’t. But I hadn’t felt like that in a long time, not since… ever?
And now here he was, talking about how there was nothing better than a good fuck. Phewwww, it was hot in there all of a sudden. He was watching me intently and I couldn’t think of anything to say.
“It’s hot in here, right?”
He shook his head, a smile playing around his lips. “No.”
“Oh.” I glanced down at my menu again and tried to focus. “You moved here recently?”
I realized I was starting to sound like an interviewer, but that was how I reacted to nerves. I got weird. Worse—I knew I’d asked him that before. But it was the first question I’d thought of.
“No. You? I know you’re changing the subject, by the way.”
I blushed. “No I’m not. I’m just making conversation.”
His blue eyes bored into mine. It was as if they could see straight through me. “Yes you are. You’re all hot and bothered. You’ve been thinking about fucking ever since I mentioned it.”
I took a deep breath. “Maybe I am,” I said finally, forcing myself to look in his eyes.
His pupils were dilated in the same way I imagined my own were. I couldn’t think of anything else now; the only thing on my mind was my need for him. My breath caught in my throat. The look in his eyes. I’d never seen that look before, but I knew what it meant.
He wants me just as much as I want him.
“So what can I get you folks to eat?”
I cursed our server in that moment. The tension at our table dissipated, leaving me frustrated and wanting. I opened my menu, suddenly no longer interested in food.
“I’ll have the steak. Medium rare.”
“Same.”
He glanced from Roman to me and back again. “Okay. I’ll leave you guys to it.”
I smiled. I wasn’t used to feeling this nervous, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. My whole body was buzzing with nerves and excitement. He looked up at me and I felt a physical shock the moment our eyes met.
“Do you have family in the city?” I asked quickly, almost afraid of the extent to which I was drawn to him. I needed to stop fantasizing right now and get back to reality if I didn’t want to get hurt.
A shadow crept across his face. For a moment, I thought I’d asked the wrong thing. But then it passed.
“A brother.”
“Oh awesome. I’ve always wanted a brother. Are you guys close?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Oh.”
I was surprised when he continued talking.
“He’s a cop. We come from a family of cops. My dad. My grandpa. My uncles.”
“They expected you to join too, huh?”
He shrugged. “I joined the military instead.”
I smiled. “Some kind of army/cop rivalry between you guys?”
He turned and glanced out the window, the muscles in his jaw pulsating.
“I’m sorry. Am I being too nosy?”
He laughed half-heartedly. “No. No you’re not. You’re great.” He shook his head. “It’s complicated, you know? That was a long time ago.”
“What about your folks?” I asked, making room on the tables for our plates which had just arrived.
He shook his head. “They’re gone now.”
“Oh.”
Fuck. In movies, the characters always bonded over anecdotes about their perfect families. I resolved to add family to my list of banned topics on dates. I thought of Ben for the first time in days—his mom had raised him alone and he’d never known his father.
“It’s okay. It was a long time ago. What about you?”
I shook my head. “Mom walked out on us when I was ten
.”
“Your father?” He didn’t flinch.
“He’s in Seattle.”
“See much of him?”
“Nah. My stepmom’s a bitch. She hates us spending time together.”
He grinned. “You don’t seem like the kind of person who’d let that get in your way.”
I laughed and slapped his hand. Our eyes met and I felt another sharp surge deep inside.
“Hey,” he said, smiling. He made no attempt to pull his hand away from mine. “I just meant you seem ballsy. Like you don’t take shit from no one.”
I thought about it. “Yeah, I used to like thinking of myself as ballsy, but now I dunno…”
“Why?” He leaned closer.
“I dunno. Getting knocked unconscious? I always thought I was able to stick up for myself.”
He shook his head. “That’s not a bad reflection on you. How many were there?”
“No idea. The cops still haven’t found any leads.”
“And you don’t remember anything?”
“No.”
I’d been trying, alright. But there was nothing. Sometimes I dreamed about it, but the only reason I knew that was because I woke up screaming and terrified. I never remembered the actual dream.
He squeezed my hand. “Just because you got beat up doesn’t mean you’re not ballsy. I’ve seen guys twice your size cry like babies in conflict. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
I looked down; a surge of emotion welling up inside me. This time, it had nothing to do with my attraction to him. “I didn’t even try to fight back, though. That’s the thing,” I whispered.
A strange kind of relief came over me then, now that I’d put it into words.
“Don’t blame yourself,” he murmured, turning serious. “What have the doctors said? Do they know if you were surprised? Snuck up on?”
I shook my head. “No. They weren’t able to tell me much more than that the injury was caused by a heavy, blunt object.”
“To the back of your head.”
“Yeah.”
“There you go then. Whoever it was hit you from behind, like a fucking coward. You might not have had time to react. And anyway…”
“Go on.”
He glanced out the window and exhaled. “Too many people fight back blindly without paying any attention to who they’re fighting. Sometimes it’s best to walk away and admit defeat.”
I frowned. “Do you? Walk away?”
His expression hardened. “No. But I should have.”
I swallowed. I had no idea what he was talking about but something told me not to ask.
Twelve
Roman
Shut up, I urged myself.
I knew the consequences of sharing my secrets with her, and still I’d been on the verge of telling her… what? I wasn’t sure.
“Don’t beat yourself up,” I said at last. “The cops will find the assholes that did this.”
That’s right, Roman. The cops will find them. Not you. Because you’re not going to get involved in this.
She smiled weakly. “I guess.”
We lapsed into silence. She was thinking about the assault, I guessed. I was wondering what in the hell had gotten into me to allow this woman into my head. I turned and glanced around. It didn’t help that the restaurant had gotten busier and busier since we’d arrived. If our server didn’t show soon, I was worried that I’d have told Cleo my entire life story by the time our entrees arrived.
“It’s taking ages, right?” she whispered.
I looked up to find her green eyes staring at me. I could see the pain in them. Again I had to stem the urge to walk out of there and find the guys who’d rattled her like this.
“Did you see their faces?” I asked suddenly.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t remember a thing. Sometimes at night it seems like I’m just on the verge of remembering, but I can’t. It could have been anyone.”
She clasped her arms around herself and I set my jaw at the sight of her obvious fear and anxiety.
I reached across the table and pulled gently on her right hand, bringing it to the table. I clasped my hand over it. “If you remember anything, you tell me. If I find those guys…”
Cleo shook her head. At first I thought I’d scared her, but then I saw the smile slowly creep across her face. “Roman, you’re an insurance salesman. These guys are dangerous. You don’t have to…”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. If only she knew the truth. I felt sick at the thought of deceiving her, even though I’d been telling that lie to people for the past ten years and it had never once caused me to lose sleep.
I wondered how I was going to get through the rest of the meal without lying. In the end, though, Cleo solved that problem.
When I opened my eyes, she was staring intently at me, her green eyes blazing.
“Why don’t we get out of here?”
Thirteen
Cleo
We walked back to his place squeezed together so tight that even the most determined pedestrians didn’t bother to try and walk between us. It was like we couldn’t be separated.
It was totally unlike me to be so forward, but the truth was, I’d lost my appetite just as soon as Roman fixed me with his wolfish stare. There was only one thing I was hungry for right then. And I just couldn’t stand to dwell on the attack any longer—the thought of getting naked with Roman was a much more enticing prospect.
“What are you thinking?” Roman said, pulling me even closer to him than I thought was possible.
I looked up, forcing myself not to break into a smile at the sight of his gorgeous face. He was beautiful. Even more so now that there was a slight smile playing at his lips. But he was pretty damn fine with a scowl on his face too. All other thoughts evaporated from my mind then.
I shook my head with a smile. “Nothing.”
He grinned widely and my stomach lurched. Who was I kidding when I told myself this was a one night thing? This guy only had to smile to send my hormones into a tailspin; the slightest touch from him was like lightning on my skin. I was hooked.
“What’s so funny?” I whispered, trying to pretend my mind wasn’t full of him.
He tried to repress his smile and I noticed his dimple for the first time. “You’re thinking furiously about something.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Oh yeah? Well, how come I had to pull you away from that streetlight back there? You didn’t even notice.”
I glanced back over my shoulder. I had no recollection of even coming close to a pole, or of him pulling me away. I turned my head up to face him.
“Yeah I did. I just let you save me. Guys get off on that, right?”
He made a face. “Liar.”
I shook my head, plastering an innocent look on my face. “I’m not. I did it on purpose—swear.”
He laughed. “You’ve got me all wrong.”
“How’s that?” I asked, snuggling into him. Even through layers of clothes, I could still feel the hard muscle of his chest. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to take off his pants and pull him down on top of me and…
“I’m not some white knight on horseback.” His expression darkened.
My stomach lurched. I’d known there was a darkness in him. I’d never known a guy like that before, but something about it drew me in. I didn’t know whether it was his darkness or his light.
“Yeah well, I don’t need saving.”
He shrugged and I elbowed him sharply.
“Ow,” he yelled, squeezing me so tight that I gasped for breath.
“That’s what you get for suggesting I was some kind of damsel in distress.”
He let go of me and I forgot for a moment where we were. To me, it was just the two of us in the whole world. We were in our own dimension, not on a crowded sidewalk on a cold, crisp night. I stared up into his blue eyes, totally entranced.
He pulled his hand from his pocket and stroked my cheek with
freezing fingers. I didn’t even flinch. The heat inside me more than canceled out the stab of cold.
The corners of his mouth turned down and his eyes came to rest on my hairline. “Aren’t you?” he asked softly.
I shook my head. “No,” I whispered, my voice raw and hoarse from longing.
“But you’ve been through a lot. I don’t want to…”
“You don’t want to what?”
He closed his eyes and scrunched up his face. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh please. Who says you’re going to hurt me. Not unless you’re some kind of ax murderer.”
He flinched.
“Sorry, I was kidding,” I said, shocked by the offense he’d taken from my offhand comment. “Don’t worry about hurting me. I want this as much as you do.”
His eyes flashed. He reached for me with a swift, fluid movement before I had a chance to move away any further. I looked up at him in surprise. He pulled me to him, and I tried not to squirm as I felt his hard body against my not-so-hard one.
“Cleo,” he muttered.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I was in trouble now, damn it. All those accidental touches and looks were nothing on this. My body pushed up against his like that… Even though we were on the street—in public—all I could think of doing was tearing off his jacket. It was like I was in a frenzied state—ravenously hungry for him.
He bent his head and kissed me. Not gently; not like one of those old-fashioned movies. No, his lips found mine with a hunger that was reflected in me. I gasped as he pushed me against the metal shutter of a store nearby and pressed himself against me.
My lips parted and I threw my head back. My body was liquid with need for him, in a way I’d never felt for anyone before. I needed him.
Just when I thought he was going to take me right then and there, he pulled away leaving me to groan in frustration.
He rubbed his chin, running his fingers against the day’s stubble growth that had been tickling my skin only moments before. I felt cold and empty without his touch.