Mikhail stared down at the infuriating woman, his cock still pulsing from the fucking he'd punished her with. Admittedly, her big brown eyes had been sincere earlier. And she said all the right words. But the vision of Hector kissing her was not one he could easily forgive. She had reacted to the kiss, he saw it. He knew his Gennifer; he knew how she responded to his touch. He knew she had responded to Hector's kiss.
But he was tired and seeing his beautiful woman sleeping naked in the middle of his bed made him want to forget all about her betrayal. He undressed quickly and then slid into bed beside her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. He pressed his mouth to the curve of her dark shoulder and dropped a hand to her perfect breast, tweaking the dark nipple, hard. She moaned, her luscious body squirming against him.
“I'm mad at you,” she murmured, her voice hoarse with sleep.
“I'm angry with you, too,” he said, rolling the taut nipple between his thumb and forefinger, enjoying her reaction. She tossed her head back, a smile spreading across her lips. She thought she had won, and she had. He believed her, he realized. He believed that she didn't want Hector. He believed that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. But he couldn't let her off easily. It was not in his nature. He remembered how she hated to be tickled and he took advantage, finding the sensitive spot under her arm. Her eyes widened and she screamed, writhing against him as he tortured her. He found himself smiling, watching her face light up in the low light.
Gennifer scooted her ass up the bed as she tried to get away from him. He looped his arm around her waist and yanked her back to him. She twisted in his grasp, laughing and kicking her legs. She almost got him in the balls, and in the interest of self-preservation, he rolled on to his side. She scrambled to the other side of the king-sized bed, her chest heaving.
“You're going to pay for that,” she giggled, now fully awake. He lazily propped his head on his hand.
“I think not,” he said. “I think you still owe me.” He patted the bed beside him. “Come here.” She shook her head, her lips twitching. “Now, little girl.” After another moment, she inched over to him. He took her in his arms and kissed her hard. She kissed him back, giving as good as he gave. He felt himself getting lost in her again, the late hour contributing to his lack of focus. He went with it, letting the rage that had consumed him go. It faded away, and all that was left was her mouth, her hands, her hair—his Gennifer. The tangy scent of her shampoo and the light salty tinge of her sweat combined in an intoxicating scent that he breathed in like a man dying from lack of oxygen.
Vaguely, he wondered how long he'd cared for her. Maybe from the first moment he saw her, punching the bag at the gym like her life was on fire. Definitely by the time he'd seen her in the shower. When the water ran down her body and she'd closed her lips around his cock, he'd already thought of her as his. At some point, she'd embedded herself inside him. The thought of losing her had sent him on a spiral back to the anger of his youth. When everything and everyone was his enemy. He didn't want to be like that anymore, he knew.
“Are we both done being angry now?” she asked softly, glancing up at him, the smile fading from her face.
“Perhaps,” he said, running a finger under her chin.
“You left me,” she murmured. “I was scared you wouldn't come back.”
“This is my apartment, solnyshka. I had every intention of coming back,” he said, straight-faced.
“Stop teasing me, Misha,” she said, her brow furrowing. “You scared me.”
“Do not be scared,” he said, rubbing his cheek against hers.
“Okay,” she said finally, a small smile returning to her lips. Then she pushed him onto his back and swirled her tongue around his nipple. “I'm going to suck your dick now. Got a problem with that?” she asked. His body jerked at her words, already swelling and stiffening and crying out for her.
“I do not know. I am very tired.” He feigned a yawn and she narrowed her eyes at him.
“Too bad.” She pushed down his body and took his hard cock into her hot little mouth. He dropped his head back and growled as she deep-throated him. He tangled his hands in her hair, closing his eyes. She hummed low in her throat, the vibration sending him over the edge. He felt her name on his lips, and he realized he was chanting it, like a mantra. His heart felt full as she loved him with her mouth and he realized that her earlier words were true.
She was his. And he was hers.
***
The next day, Gennifer couldn't stop grinning like a fool. She felt great, like she just passed a big test with flying colors. She and Mikhail had weathered their first real argument and had come out on the other side, stronger than ever. She was beginning to wonder if the worst was over. A bad feeling still lingered at the back of her mind, but she chose to ignore it. In the shower that morning, with Mikhail asleep in the bed in the next room, she told herself that she wasn't going to jinx their relationship anymore. The more she thought things were going to turn to shit, the better chance that they would. It was a self-fulfilling prophecy, and she needed him too much to lose him.
As she parked her car a block from House of Pain, she felt a slight twist in her belly. She was dreading facing Hector. She didn't know what she was going to say to him, if anything. He was an ass, but he was also her brother. She had to figure out a way to make things okay between them. And between him and Mikhail. Diplomacy was not her strong suit, but she had to figure it out. Her future happiness depended on it.
As she slid the strap of her bag over her shoulder and slammed the car door shut, she took a moment to bask in the August sunshine. The summer was coming to an end and she'd been working so hard, she'd hardly had a chance to enjoy it. The city hummed with possibilities in the summer. She loved the energy on the streets. It was a Friday night, and the energy was at a fever pitch. She smiled to herself, taking her time walking to House of Pain. She was in such a good mood, she didn't notice Erica until she'd almost walked right through her.
“Genny?” Erica said, waving her hand, trying to get her attention.
“Oh. Hey,” Gennifer replied, her grin immediately fading. The kiss with her Hector reared up and smacked her in the face again. Guilt, a feeling as uncomfortable to her as happiness, welled up in her. She didn't like it. She didn't like it one bit.
“Can I ask you something?” Erica asked, falling into step beside Gennifer.
“Ask away,” Gennifer said, gnawing on her lip.
“Do you think you can skip training, just tonight?”
“Skip training? Why?”
“Well, I owe you margaritas. There's a great place a few blocks away.” Erica shifted her eyes to Gennifer's, nervously.
“I don't know—” Gennifer began.
“It's Friday night. I've had a shitty week and I need a drink.” Erica took Gennifer's hand and squeezed. “Don't make me beg to buy you an overpriced drink.” Gennifer glanced toward House of Pain, thinking about Mikhail waiting there for her. Alone. With Hector. But then again, she didn't really have any interest in being caught between them either. She could only take so much testosterone before she got hives. “A whole pitcher of margaritas, right? That was the deal?” Erica asked, looking so hopeful that Gennifer let her guilt and cowardice get in the way of good sense.
“I would be dumb to refuse free overpriced drinks, I guess,” Gennifer said, folding like a cheap suit.
“Exactly!” Erica said, smiling brightly.
Twenty minutes later they had shoved their way to the bar at the loud, crowded place Erica had chosen and found two empty stools. Gennifer wasn't dressed to go out on the town, but since she was trying to pick up anybody, she didn't worry about it too much. Erica was still in her work clothes, a breezy cotton skirt paired with a black camisole. She looked as effortlessly graceful as ever, even as she perched on a bar stool. Erica ordered a pitcher of margaritas and chips and salsa. Then she turned back to Gennifer, expectantly.
“So...” Gennifer
glanced around the restaurant, trying to think of a topic of conversation that wouldn't lead back to Hector.
“How was work? You're a dentist, right?” Erica asked, breaking the silence.
“Yup. I had an extraction today. Pretty exciting,” Gennifer said with a laugh. “What do you do?”
“I'm an artist's agent. I work out of a gallery in Chelsea.”
“Hmm,” Gennifer said, not knowing how to reply to that. She was a gym rat who knew next to nothing about art.
“Do you know Chadwick Benedict?” Erica asked.
“The musician?”
“Yeah. I work for his wife, Indira. She's a pretty well-known artist,” Erica said, with a smile. “The pay is not the greatest, but it's never boring.”
“That sounds cool,” Gennifer said.
“Being a dentist is cool, too.” Erica replied.
“No, it's not,” Gennifer shook her head. “But I like it. And the pay is good.”
“How did you decide to be a dentist?”
“I don't know. When I was a kid, I would go to the dentist's office, I always loved those big white plastic teeth that they always have lying around. I just loved how smooth they were.” Gennifer laughed at herself, knowing it sounded silly. “I only applied to Rutger's Dental school, I was so sure. Luckily, I got in.”
“Well I always wanted to be an artist,” Gennifer said, biting down on a chip from the basket between them. “But I wasn't good enough.”
“Where are you from?” Gennifer hedged, grabbing a chip and dipping it in the salsa.
“Texas. I moved here for school and never left. My sister's here now, too. Joanna goes to NYU.”
“My little brother Aaron goes to NYU. I wonder if they know each other?” Gennifer said, her attention diverted as their pitcher of margaritas arrived just in time. “Well, probably not. Aaron is in a wheelchair. He can be pretty shy.”
“Joanna is anything but shy,” Erica said taking a long sip of margarita. Her eyes lit up. “This is good! Really strong.” Gennifer poured her own and took a big drink. A stiff drink was exactly what she needed. “Will you hate me if I want to talk about Hector?” Erica said after a moment.
“No,” Gennifer murmured, then downed half of her drink in one fell swoop.
“I like him,” Erica said, playing with her straw. Gennifer winced as the cold liquid hit her brain and nodded, egging Erica on. “We slept together last week. He's really good in bed,” Erica said and Gennifer choked on her drink. “Sorry, is that weird?”
“No,” Gennifer croaked out.
“After we slept together, it got weird. Let me rephrase. He got weird.”
“Tale as old as time,” Gennifer said and Erica gave a small smile. “Look, Erica, I've known Hector forever. He's a nice guy, but the man's got issues.”
“I don't regret sleeping with him. I just wish I didn't like him so damn much,” she said, matter-of-factly. Gennifer snorted out a laugh, liking Erica more and more by the minute. “He's got problems, but who doesn't? Deal with it.” Erica shrugged and took another drink.
“Don't let him run you ragged,” Gennifer said. “If he doesn't get his shit together, drop him. Cut your losses.”
“Easier said than done, right?” Erica said, lifting one sculpted eyebrow.
***
Mikhail stared up at the office window. Hector sat there at the desk, his back to him like he didn't have a care in the world. He turned back to the speed bag, forcing himself to focus on his workout. Gennifer had called him and said she wasn't coming, so he didn't technically need to be at House of Pain at all. And yet, he couldn't leave.
He was itching for a fight.
Tate, the big blonde man from the party at Big Jimmy's house, stood to his right, doing squats with an impressive amount of weight. Mikhail gave him a nod and the man nodded back. Mikhail turned back to the speed bag, feeling the adrenaline flaring. He began pummeling the bag, needing an outlet for his anger. He had forgiven Gennifer, but Hector was going to pay for his sin. He had touched another man's woman. No self-respecting Russian man could let that serious of an offense go without a little bloodshed.
As the minutes ticked by, Mikhail filed his anger down to a sharp point within himself. He was not wild and out of control; no, he was focused and contained. He was in the right frame of mind for the punishment he was going to dole out. He merely wanted to send a message, not seriously maim.
When the ring was empty, he climbed up and ducked under the ropes. He hopped from foot to foot to get the blood flowing, the sweat running down his chest in rivulets. He pulled on his gloves, tightening the straps with his teeth. Stretching out his arms, he thought of Gennifer. She wouldn't want him to hurt Hector too badly, but he could imagine her in his corner. His bloodthirsty solnyshka would have no problem with him kicking a little ass.
With that thought, he leaned on the ropes and let out a high pitched whistle.
“Hector!” he called out. In the office, Hector turned his head and Mikhail knew he heard him. “HECTOR!” he roared again, his voice booming off the concrete walls of the gym. He watched through the window as Hector stood and went to the door of the office. He stepped out onto the metal stairs and glared down at Mikhail, crossing his arms.
“What the fuck do you want?” Hector asked, pissed off. Good. That was exactly how Mikhail wanted him. A ruthless smile curled over his lips as the adrenaline coursed through his veins like a drug.
“Spar with me,” he said, simply.
Chapter 14
Gennifer poured the last drop from the pitcher into Erica's cup, chuckling to herself. She was learning all kinds of new information that night. She had already learned that Erica had a clit piercing that made having multiple orgasms easier. Also, she was debating about getting her nipples pierced as well. Oh, and Hector a had a eight inch cock that curved to the right, apparently. Gennifer could only laugh, loving that Erica seemed to have no filter when it came to talking about sex, especially after a few drinks. She'd had quite a few drinks herself, and wasn't horrified in the least to hear intimate details about Hector, especially after the shit he'd put her through in the last twenty-four hours.
“So what about Mikhail?” Erica asked, as she took back the cup Gennifer handed her. “I see the way he looks at you, like he wants to do all kinds of nasty, dirty things to your body. ”
“No way, white girl. My lips are sealed,” Gennifer wrapped her lips around her straw and shook her head.
“Come on! That's not fair.” Erica bobbed on her stool to the rock song blasting over the speakers in the bar. “He's such a scary-looking guy. I would be intimidated to even talk to him.”
“He's not scary,” Gennifer said, furrowing her brow. “He's intense. There's a difference.”
“What's the difference?”
“I don't know. Perspective?” Gennifer shrugged, her cheeks warming as she remembered the look on Mikhail's face as he demanded that she crawl on her hands and knees. As he pushed her up against the wall in the shower. As he shoved her down on his bed and spread her legs open wide. She felt a little shiver go through her at the memories. Her Russian was definitely intense.
“I bet he's rough,” Erica said, gazing off, her eyes glazing over a bit. “Does he like to hold you down? Hector likes that.”
“Girl, you are tripping over him.”
“If you go from having bad sex or no sex and suddenly—boom!—you're having great sex, how are you just supposed to give that up?”
“Well if the penis the sex is attached to is no good, you still have to throw it back,” Gennifer said with a laugh. With a self-pitying moan, Erica tipped her head back, downing the rest of her drink. “I had a boyfriend once. Another fighter.” Gennifer continued. She didn't know why she felt the need to share, but she didn't stop herself. “Cute, stupid, and cocky as hell. He was good enough in the bedroom that I overlooked... other things.” Gennifer felt herself frowning at the memory. “Hector is a good guy, though. He may be an idiot sometimes, but a
t least he'd never hurt you.” Erica lost her smile and set her glass on the bar. “It ended badly, but it could have been worse. Hector actually helped me with that. Told the guy to leave me alone. Luckily, he listened.”
“Is that why you learned to fight?” Erica asked, leaning in.
“No. I learned to fight because I'm a stubborn little shit who wants to do everything that other people tell me not to do.”
“I want to learn to fight, but I'm scared,” Erica admitted. “How can you get in the ring with guys like Mikhail? Doesn't it scare the shit out of you?”
“I like it. I like the adrenaline rush. The danger. The strategy,” Gennifer said, her mouth curling into a smile. “And I like sparring with Mikhail.”
“Yeah, I bet you do,” Erica said so knowingly that Gennifer couldn't help it—she giggled like a teenager.
***
“You want to fight someone your own size now? Tired of beating up on girls?” Hector asked, dipping into the ring and pulling his shirt over his head. Mikhail didn't respond, just leaned against the ring, waiting for Hector to stop talking and start fighting. The fight was all he wanted. “You think you know G, but you don't,” Hector said, quickly wrapping his hands. “If you knew all the shit she'd been through, you wouldn't let her within a mile of this ring.”
“Less talk. More action,” Mikhail said, snapping his gum.
“What did she tell you, huh?” Hector pulled on his gloves and tightened the straps. Mikhail's eyes wandered to the edge of the ring, where Tate stood, watching them. “Did she tell you she used to have seizures as a kid? Did she tell you about the shit she went through with Donny?” Despite himself, Mikhail felt his hackles rise at the mention of the zhopa who had touched Gennifer at the party. “No, of course she didn't,” Hector sneered.
Mikhail held out his gloves, silently, ready to tap in. He wanted to know what Hector was talking about, but if he wanted to know about Gennifer, he would simply ask her. Hector slapped his gloves against Mikhail's, and the fight was on. Mikhail didn't waste time. He threw a combination jab and straight-shot, getting Hector in the chest and the nose that sent him reeling. Hector came back with an uppercut that caught Mikhail in the jaw and snapped his head back. A smile curled over his lips, tasting the blood on his tongue. Hector wasn't fucking around and that was good, because neither was he.
Stone Cold Knockout Page 16