Madness (Revenge Series Book 3)

by M. S. Brannon

  Nikolai simply showered, brushed his teeth, and passed out in bed. He did drive almost ten hours while I slept most of the way, so I could see why he wasn’t willing to wait for me to get out of the tub in order for him to shower. This was fine by me. I intend to enjoy this tub for hours.

  Now, as I stand at the window, looking down at the shiny lights below, Nikolai is suddenly standing behind me. I turn, breaking my gaze from the dancing fountains. He’s holding two Martini glasses, one close to his chest, the other being proffered to me. He looks dapper, dressed in all black: suit, shirt, tie, and even his cufflinks are shiny black diamonds. His hair is neatly combed to the side, a day’s worth of stubble removed and exposing his sharp jawline.

  As we lock eyes, my insides swirl with excitement when I see the same expression reflecting in his light blue gaze.

  His eyes break away from mine as he scans down the length of my body. The Macy’s personal shopper insisted I get a little black dress when I made my purchases a few days ago. According to her, a woman always needs a black cocktail dress in her wardrobe.

  The satin dress is very classy yet hugs my curves the way Nikolai’s leather gloves fit over his hands. It clings to my waist and hips, landing just above my knees. The one strap crosses over my chest and left shoulder, exposing my clavicle and keeping my breasts covered but looking perfectly poised.

  My favorite has to be the four-inch Jimmy Choo black pumps. While Nikolai was sleeping, I may have snuck out of the room and taken advantage of what was left over from my shopping excursion at Macy’s to purchase some designer shoes. They were relatively the cheapest, going for a mere two hundred and twenty-five dollars. They are very elegant, made of fine leather and sheer netting, and surprisingly comfortable.

  I dried my brownish-blonde hair straight and smoothed it out with the straightener. As I was applying my makeup, I was glad the stylist had left me samples after they primped me for my dinner with Vlad. I covered my eyes with a smoky gray shadow and finished the look with bright red lips.

  “You look stunning, Josslyn.” Nikolai strides toward me, setting the drinks on the dresser before lifting my hand to his lips. His kiss is warm, and it charges me with an aching, delicious heat.

  “Thank you. You look nice, as well,” I say in return, stepping away from his aura that always seems to pull me closer.

  He hands me my drink, and I look at the olive floating in the glass.

  I tip the crystal to his and toast, “To a night of fun.”

  “To our last night of fun,” Nikolai says, killing the positive vibes I was trying for.

  “You do know how to set the mood, don’t you?” I roll my eyes and expel an exasperated breath. I just wanted to live in my bubble of happiness for one night, and he goes and says something to bring it all crashing down. “I need to eat,” I say, feeling my stomach groan in agony.

  “Let’s go down to the bar and get a drink while we decide where we want to eat.” Nikolai finishes his martini while I take another sip, choking down the bitter drink.

  He ushers me out of the room, holding his elbow out like a gentleman. I thread my arm through his, grasping his hard bicep.

  We make our way through the crowd of people on the casino floor and down a longer, quiet pathway. The smooth sounds of jazz start to become more apparent the farther we walk.

  We stroll through the entrance to the Baccarat Bar, and I am immediately swept away by the ambiance. The amber lighting is muted and dances off the plush leather furniture scattered throughout the room. There is a man playing a grand piano with a small quartet of men playing stringed instruments behind him. The melody is exotic and sensual, sending shivers down my arms.

  Nikolai finds a quiet place for us to sit, tucked away in the corner of the room but in plain view of the rest of the establishment. He holds his hand in mine and guides me down to the white, plush couch then unfastens the button on his suit coat and sits beside me. His clean scent infiltrates the air, sending more electrifying shivers throughout my body. I do my best to put a little space between us, but there isn’t much room on the small sofa.

  Nikolai leans back, places his hand on my thigh, and gets the waitress’s attention by nodding at her.

  She is a tiny thing with perky breasts and hair the color of an autumn sunset. Her white teeth gleam behind her megawatt smile as she makes her way over to our table.

  “Hello, my name is Misty, and I will be serving you this evening. What can I get you started with?” she singsongs as she pulls her pen from her hair.

  “A bottle of Dom Perignon,” Nikolai says smoothly.

  “We have a few different varieties, but I’d recommend the 2004 Vintage Rose. It’s very exquisite.”

  “That sounds perfect.” Nikolai hands her his Amex to get his tab started, and she shuffles away to place the order.

  I take a moment to catch my breath. My head must be swimming from the Martini we had before we left the hotel room, but I feel like this has been my state of mind since I met Nikolai. I am living in an alternate universe. Right now, we are surrounded by luxury, everywhere from our clothing to the hotel room and our choice of beverages. However, I know that will change rapidly once we board the plane tomorrow. Gone will be the fine dresses and food, only to usher in danger and the potential of dying.

  I’m familiar with the current affairs in Chechnya; the strife has been on the world news since the early 2000s. Still, I get this horrible feeling in my gut that it won’t be the radicals trying to kill us. It will be the men we are searching for. I accepted this mission, and I know what is at stake, but I can’t forget this truly could be the last fun moment I have on earth.

  The waitress glides back over to our table, her palm flat under the tray holding our champagne. She places the bucket of ice and two crystal glasses on the table. Next, she pops the cork and allows the beverage to breathe for a moment before filling our glasses.

  As she sets mine down on the table, the waitress picks up Nikolai’s and asks, “So, are we celebrating anything special this evening?”

  I want to speak. I have words forming in my head, but my previous random thoughts are preventing them from passing over the lump in my throat.

  As he always does, Nikolai smoothly answers, “Yes.” He looks over at me, giving me a rare genuine smile, and continues. “We are celebrating life tonight, Misty.”

  I smile back at him, and for the briefest of moments, it feels like we are living a completely normal life. I’m not a police officer, and he’s not a murderer. We are not on the road to find the man who destroyed our lives and tried to take his. The air around us is crisp and clean. Possibilities are endless for our futures. Threats of violence and the smell of blood are not even a notion we would entertain. I am positively overwhelmed at the potential realities that surround us on all sides at this crossroads. For the briefest of moments, we are a normal couple, sitting in a fine establishment and enjoying the company of the person sitting beside us.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Nikolai

  August 14, 2015 9:29 p.m.

  The night has progressed with little excitement from an assassin’s point of view, but it has been very entertaining to spend the evening with Josslyn. She was intoxicated in no time before enjoying herself while we were at the jazz bar, guzzling down three glasses of champagne and devouring the plate of hors d’oeuvres I ordered. It was clear to me she was ready to call it a night, considering her glassy-eyed look.

  The waitress drops off the receipt after running my card. I can feel Josslyn lean in closer, her breath brushing against my cheek and the smell of lavender and champagne infiltrating my senses. I keep my head down and my eyes focused on writing my name, knowing if I were to look in her direction, it would put our lips too close together.

  “Holy shit!” she blurts out when she looks at the bill in the black leather case. “This was almost a four-hundred-dollar bottle of wine! No wonder it went down like water.” She consumes the last bit of her champagne like she is downing
a shot of whiskey.

  Stunned by her candid comment, I glance over at Josslyn in surprise and notice a drop of champagne on her bottom lip. I look up at her eyes, seeing excitement flashing in them.

  Her mouth opens slightly as she tries to keep her breaths slow and even. However, the longer I look at her and the closer I lean into her, the more I can see her pulse quicken and hear her breathing become labored.

  Josslyn wants me, and there is no doubt how much I want her.

  I lean slowly forward, tilting my head and bringing my lips to the corner of hers. I brush them along the delicate skin underneath her lips, tasting the fallen drops of champagne on my tongue. The fruity, bitter flavor mixes with the taste that I have discovered is Josslyn.

  She freezes against me, her breasts pressing into my chest while my dick is stirring inside my pants. I want this woman almost as much I have wanted anything in this world. There is this primal need to destroy her satin dress, ripping it from her and pressing every naked inch of her up against a wall.

  Every moment makes Josslyn that much closer to becoming my Achilles’ heel. She is a deadly concoction of lust, sex, and innocence. Indulging in her will surely be the death of me, yet I can’t seem to resist savoring each and every bite.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Josslyn

  August 14, 2015 9:43 p.m.

  My head is swimming, my heart is thudding wildly inside my chest, and his lips are pressed to the corner of mine. His tongue sweeps along my skin and removes the drops of champagne from my lips. Volts of electricity buzz through me, and the closer he gets to me, the more the heated surges awaken my core. The warmth of his body is absorbed into mine, and I want to take it all—feel it all. I can’t think of a single thing I want more in this world than to have Nikolai penetrating me over and over.

  I’m enraptured.

  Addicted.

  Alive.

  The lust consuming me is intensified by the alcohol in my system. It’s fueling me to be brave.

  The night is young. We could go to a luxurious restaurant and fill up on the best food Las Vegas can offer or hit the craps table, hoping to get lucky. However, the only place I want to be is in our elegant hotel room with Nikolai fucking me until the sun comes up.

  I slide my palm up his arm as he is pulling his face away from mine. I blink from the intoxication of his touch and cup his cheek in my hand. We connect eyes, his lit in an icy blue heat and mine wide with brazen demands.

  “I want you to take me upstairs to our room and fuck me.” I smile as wickedly as I know he can, surprised yet proud of my shameless invitation.

  Nikolai doesn’t make a move or a sound. His face is masked in his usual smug expression, but I know it’s just that—a mask. He may have figured me out early on when he saw the darkness I have inside of me, but I have been studying him, as well. If I have learned anything, it’s the expression he wears now only means he is thinking about my offer.

  “What makes you think you’re in a position to make such demands, my dear?” He leans forward, grazing his lips along my jawline. Soft, warm kisses devour my will and ignite my desire simultaneously.

  “Because it was my idea to have some fun tonight, and this is what I want to do.” I pull my face back and look him dead in the eyes. “Now take me up to our room and fuck me.”

  A snicker releases from my lips because I am completely overwhelmed by the boldness of my comments. I don’t feel embarrassed or ashamed for speaking what’s really on my mind. In fact, I don’t really feel much at all except a drunken bliss.

  Nikolai says nothing as he jerks me up and pulls me from the bar. I shuffle as quickly as I can in my heels, but the alcohol in by bloodstream makes it that much harder and I stumble.

  We come to the bank of elevators where he stands in silence. His jaw is clenched, and his frame is rigid. He wants this, I think to myself and I smile a little bigger as a hiccup leaves my mouth.

  After we exit the elevator and quickly make our way into the suite, Nikolai shuts the door behind me then leads us into the bedroom. I ready myself for his assault by planting my feet and digging my heels into the carpet. My legs wobble, and I clench my thighs to steady myself as much as possible, ready to welcome him close to me.

  He shrugs off his jacket and loosens the knot of his tie. Like a panther in the wild, Nikolai stalks his way over to me, and my heart leaps. I can’t wait to be consumed by this beast.

  As he gets closer, I start to lean back, bracing myself on the wall. He’s challenging me, trapping me in his dangerous aura, and I submit to its presence. My spine becomes flush with the wall. My breasts rise as I hold my breath, waiting for his destruction.

  The smile on his face is serious and deadly. I can feel him wanting to claim every inch of my body as he looks at me with lust-filled eyes. Then Nikolai leans in, running his hand down my leg. The sparks are flickering as his fingers brush over my thigh, down over my knee, and stop just above my ankle.

  He lifts my foot, unfastening my shoe before tossing it to the floor. Nikolai then stands up, meeting my gaze once again, his scent overpowering me with desire. Then he repeats the same sensual touch with my other leg and removes my shoe. Now I am standing four inches shorter, his hard frame towering over mine.

  I lean my head back and close my eyes, waiting for the moment he takes me; I’m practically begging to be consumed. I flutter my eyes open as I feel the heat from his body leave. Nikolai turns around and walks to the bathroom.

  Left in slight shock, I think maybe he has to go to the bathroom, so I wait.

  When he opens the door, he is wearing his black slacks and nothing else. His face isn’t heated like it was before. Instead, he looks annoyed and like the smug asshole he always is. He walks away from me, and every powerful yearning sensation vanishes.

  I storm over to him. “What the hell? Are we going to do this or not?”

  “Not,” Nikolai replies as he turns around and walks from the bedroom.

  I stomp after him, snatch his shoulder, and spin him around. My once happy gaze is now set to a lethal glare when I ask, “What the fuck is your problem?” My stomach swirls with nauseated butterflies while my hands shake.

  He opens a bottle of water and takes a long sip. “My dear, you’ve had too much to drink, and fucking a drunk woman isn’t all that exciting for me.”

  My mouth is frozen from his crass comment, but the adrenaline is surging from the hatred I have for this asshole. What was I thinking? The booze clouded my judgment, making me think he would ease up on his rigid ways for a night. I was stupid for even thinking that.

  “Now get yourself in the shower, Josslyn, and sleep it off. There’s been a change of plans, and we have to be at the airport by seven in the morning.”

  Before I even know I am doing it, I lift my palm and crack it across his cheek. Shame and rejection are fueling my arms as I then push him away from me.

  “You’re an asshole!”

  “Yeah, I know.” He casually shrugs then turns around, tossing his empty bottle of water in the garbage.

  Fine, if he won’t have me, I’ll sure as hell find someone who will.

  I storm back into the bedroom and rifle through my belongings, pulling clothes from my bag and tossing them over my shoulder. At the bottom, I find a more reasonable pair of black flats and slide my feet inside. Then I grab my clutch and storm passed Nikolai, refusing to look in his direction.

  He says nothing as I blaze by in rage. For a moment, I think he might forbid me from leaving the room, but he just leans against the wall, picking at his nails.

  I pull the door open, march down the hall, and then step into the elevator. I need to get the hell out of here. I need to get the hell away from him.

  .*.*.*.

  August 14, 2015 11:15 p.m.

  I find myself sitting at the bar of a ridiculous nightclub located across the street from our hotel. I scan the room while sipping a mojito and assessing my options. So far, I am not impressed by a single guy here.
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  The room is stuffy but not as packed as it was when I arrived over an hour ago. Most of the people occupy the dance floor, making the bar area easier to observe from. The length of the bar stretches across the vast space, surrounded by small, high tables and sleek, contemporary metal chairs. The DJ has consistently been playing hip-hop.

  I finish off my second drink, slap another twenty on the countertop, and order another as he catches my eye.

  The man is very tall, his skin the color of a rich caramel, and he is incredibly handsome. The black strands of his hair are cut short and are neatly tousled. He has a trim beard perfectly manicured across his cheeks. His gorgeous chocolate eyes undress me as he strolls closer. His walk is prideful, and his resolve is clear. He wants me and will stop at nothing to have me. He is exactly what I need right now.

  As he steps within a couple feet of me, I can smell his earthy cologne. I’m swarmed by need as the stranger finally sits next to me.

  “All right, ladies and gentlemen,” the DJ’s voice comes through the sound system. “Here’s an R&B classic to heat things up.”

  “Untitled (How Does It Feel)” by D’Angelo starts playing over the speakers. The dance floor is swarmed by couples latching onto each other and moving to the music.

  “Dance with me?” the sexy man asks, his voice as sultry as his Latin good looks.

  I hold my hand out, and he helps me from my chair. We say nothing as he ushers us to the dance floor, finding a spot in the middle of the sea of sexually charged bodies. I wrap my arms around his neck, pressing my chest into his firm, lean one. The swarthy stranger holds me tightly with one hand on my hip and the other wrapped around my waist, resting on the small of my back. I melt from the heat generated off his hands through the fabric of my dress.