Russian Mobster's Stolen Wife

by Bella Rose

  “You’re just so romantic,” she said.

  She got into the vehicle, realizing in the process that it was actually a Jeep. So they were prepared to go off road a little. At least that’s what the big tires, aggressive grill, and roll bars suggested. That was good, because she was sure Teller wasn’t about to give up.

  Anson and Igor climbed in the back seat, and Grigori got in behind the wheel. He started the engine. The sound seemed deafening in the forest. In the glow of the dash lights she could see lines of worry on his face. So he knew what the stakes were here. Good.

  “Keep an eye out,” he told Anson and Igor. “And for pity’s sake, don’t accidentally shoot me in the back of the head.”

  “You got it, boss,” they muttered.

  Flynn was starting to feel the strain of the evening. Her arms were scratched from the cat, along with her cheek. The areas were throbbing. Hopefully she didn’t come down with rabies or cat scratch fever.

  “Are you all right?” Grigori glanced over at her. “You’ve had a long night.”

  She held onto the roll bar as they bounced over a rut to get back to the main road. “My face hurts.”

  “We’ll have a doctor look at that when we get home.”

  “Where the hell is home?” She yawned. How crazy was it to yawn at a time like this?

  He shrugged. “You don’t have a place. I do. Does it matter where it is?”

  “I guess not,” she murmured. “Do you see that?”

  He was already peering into the rearview mirror, so she knew he did. He pursed his lips, looking pissed off. “Anson, shoot the tires out of that thing when it’s in range.”

  “All right, boss.” Anson pulled a rifle out from under the seat and rested the barrel on the back of his seat.

  The shattering of the side view mirror right next to Flynn followed the echoing report of gunfire. She squeaked in surprise and leaned closer to the middle of the vehicle. Grigori gently touched her hand. She snatched it away. She didn’t want or need comfort right now. Did she?

  “They’re just looking for targets,” Grigori explained. Then his side view mirror shattered too. “See? Reflective things.”

  “Oh, I feel so much better,” she said as Anson returned fire.

  There was a muffled shot, and then the lights behind them twisted in a crazy arc as the pursuing vehicle flipped over and over. Flynn watched in shock as it landed on its side and came to a screeching halt in the middle of the dirt track.

  “Next!” Anson chorused.

  “Don’t get cocky,” Grigori warned. “There’s another one coming right at us.”

  He carefully maneuvered their Jeep to the edge of the road, picking up speed as he did. Anson pulled up his rifle and repositioned the barrel over the edge of Flynn’s seat. She scooched down and wondered if he was going to accidentally shoot her head off.

  The rifle went off, the bullet pinging off the fast approaching vehicle. Then Anson pulled the trigger three more times in quick succession. The windshield of the other vehicle shattered, followed by the headlight, and finally the tire burst and the larger SUV swerved precariously toward the edge of the road.

  “Shit, they’re coming right for us,” Grigori snarled. “Hold on.”

  Flynn held tight to the roll cage as they careened past the oncoming vehicle. They scraped sides, the squeal of metal on metal almost bone chilling as they managed to get by. The other SUV hung up on a tree and stopped abruptly. Flynn could actually hear the passengers screaming as they were thrown against the sides and back of the vehicle. She wondered if Teller was among them and hoped he was. That bastard needed to die one way or another.

  Chapter Six

  By the time Grigori finally pulled up in front of the narrow brick house in Richmond’s historic district that he called home, Flynn was nodding off in the passenger seat. It was after two in the morning, and Grigori was feeling the effects of sleep deprivation as well. His eyes were so gritty it felt like he’d doused them in sand.

  He made eye contact with Anson and Igor in the rearview mirror. “You two take watch. Ask Ivan to spell you if necessary. I want someone watching the street at all times. We’re not taking any chances.”

  “Got it, boss.” Anson nodded. Then he waggled his bushy brows. “Are you planning to enjoy your wedding night?”

  Igor elbowed Anson hard, gesturing to Flynn. “She’s barely conscious, dimwit! Besides, half the night is over already.”

  “If you two are done speculating about my sex life.” Grigori looked from one man to the other. “You can get a move on now.”

  They complied, casing the street carefully before getting out of the vehicle. That left Flynn for Grigori to handle. If she woke up before he made it into the house, he almost wondered if she might not castrate him for touching her.

  She didn’t stir when he lifted her into his arms. He cradled her against his chest, feeling an unfamiliar pang of something soft and mushy near his heart. There was no denying his admiration for the woman. She’d come through a horrific ordeal. In fact, if someone else put her through such a trial, Grigori would eviscerate them. Instead, it was simply the price he had to pay in order to stay in America.

  “Where are we?” she murmured when Igor opened the front door.

  Grigori carried her inside and went directly upstairs to the fourth floor where he had converted the entire space into his personal quarters. “We’re home. I have a place you can rest.”

  She blinked, her green eyes clearing just long enough to focus on his face. Then she shut them again and pressed her face to his chest. It was odd. There was no tension in her body from being close to him. It was as if she trusted him, which was an insane notion at best.

  Unable to resist, he lowered his head and inhaled deeply of her soft, feminine scent. There was something wild about the smell of Flynn. Both of them were battered and covered in bruises and scrapes, but she still smelled divine. He saw the scratch on her cheek was swollen. It made his gut clench with regret for what had happened.

  Grigori laid Flynn gently on his bed. He pulled her shoes off and set them on the floor. Then he went to get a warm washcloth from the bathroom. By the time he got back, she was sitting up.

  “Is this your room?” She looked around, obviously interested.

  He wondered what she thought of the dark wood and neutral colors. He didn’t have much in the way of knickknacks. “Yes, although I’m not going to demand we share the room. I’ll go to the next floor down and sleep in a guest room.”

  “No!” Her eyes went wide. “I mean, I appreciate that, but I would really prefer not to be alone.”

  He could see what it cost her to admit that. “I brought a cloth for your cheek.” He held it out.

  She took the warm rag and pressed it to her face. “Will you sit with me for a minute?”

  Grigori perched on the edge of the bed. He kicked off his boots, stretching his toes and sighing in relief. The he noticed she was staring. “My feet hurt. Don’t yours?”

  “Yes.” She groaned. “At this point I think everything hurts.”

  “True dat.”

  “Okay, that phrase sounds ridiculous with your accent.” She raised her brows. “You should never say that again.”

  It was odd, but Grigori could have sworn she was flirting with him. Then her whole countenance changed. She lowered the rag and stared at the pink blood on the sand-colored cloth.

  “What’s wrong?” he said.

  “All of that was my fault.” Her throat moved as she swallowed. “They followed the tracking device in my car. Then they followed the one in my phone.”

  He nearly leaped off the bed. “Do you have your phone now?”

  “No. I threw it into the woods when we left the church.” She put her face in her hands. “But I had it with me in the church, Grigori. I could have told you, or said something. And I didn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know?” She m
ade a helpless sound and gazed up at him with enormous eyes. “Maybe I still wondered if I could go through with this.”

  “This?” He thought it through. “Our deal?”

  “Yes.” She flopped back onto the bed. “We’re married, you know. That’s kind of a big deal.”

  “It doesn’t have to change anything.” He wondered if she was having regrets.

  Then she grabbed his hand and pulled him down practically on top of her. She touched his face. “What if I want it to change things?”

  He reared back, trying to put some space between them. He hadn’t prepared for this. “You’re just feeling the effects of the adrenaline.”

  “Yeah, survival sex. I know.” She reached down and palmed his cock through his jeans. “And that’s what I want, Grigori. I just want to forget. You’re my husband. It’s crazy and insane and I might wonder if I’ve lost my mind in the morning, but right now I don’t care.” She gave his quickly swelling erection a squeeze. “Please fuck me, Grigori. Please?”

  He might have been able to say no if she hadn’t grabbed his face and dragged his mouth down for a kiss. The kiss earlier in the church had been electrifying and completely unexpected. This one was the opposite. He knew the moment their lips touched that the powerful surge of hormones and emotions would melt his brain from the inside.

  He tasted her, sliding his tongue inside her mouth and rubbing it alongside hers. They grappled a bit as they fought a passionate war to see who would lead and who would follow. Then she surrendered, and Grigori thought he might come right then and there.

  FLYNN HAD NEVER been so turned on in her life! Grigori tasted like decadent, forbidden male. She wanted him with a fervor that bordered on crazy. She undulated against him, letting the friction of their clothed bodies create heat that made her skin sizzle.

  Her core was hot and wet and she squirmed with discomfort in her jeans. “I need to be naked, Grigori.”

  She wasn’t sure why, but she loved saying his name. She could have done that over and over and never gotten tired of it. When she unbuttoned her own jeans and he helped her to slide them down her legs, she said his name again. This time it was a moan of need.

  He was everywhere. He pulled her shirt up and off, tossing it aside. Using his lips, he traced a line of kisses over her breasts. He unfastened her bra and pulled it off. Then he was licking and sucking her nipples. He pulled as much of her right breast into his mouth as he could, sucking until she was writhing against him.

  She stopped thinking altogether. There was nothing but the need for release. She wrapped her legs around his clothed body and ground against him. His hand found the sleek folds of her sex. He slid his fingers through the wet flesh until he brushed against her clit. Circling the tiny nub, he rubbed and rubbed until she was helpless to stave off her orgasm.

  She climaxed while screaming his name. Stars burst behind her closed eyelids, and she pumped her hips because she could not keep still. It was like being out of her body. It felt so incredibly good. But she wanted more. She needed to feel him spread her legs and take her in that primal way only a man could.

  “Grigori, you have clothes on,” she panted. “Take them off. Please?”

  He looked as if he might argue, but then he gave in. Yanking his shirt off over his head, he flung it across the room. Then he was wriggling to get out of his jeans. He kicked them down, and she helped him push them off over his feet. When he was naked, she got her first full look.

  “Holy shit,” she said. “You’re hot. Seriously.”

  He laughed, throwing his head back and giving her chills with the sexy sound. After that, Flynn couldn’t control herself. She tackled him to the bed. She kissed his muscular arms and ran her tongue down his chest. Teasing his tiny male nipples with her teeth, she slipped her hand down his belly toward his cock.

  When she was somewhere between his navel and his balls, he stopped laughing. Then she gripped his generous cock in her hand and began pumping him from base to tip. Precum beaded on the head, and she ran her fingers through the silky stuff. Gazing up into his face, she licked her fingers clean of his fluid and watched his eyes glaze over with desire.

  “Do you want me?” she demanded.

  “Hell yes.”

  She straddled him, feeling more in control than she ever had before in her life. It was glorious. Flynn threw her head back and felt her hair brush the small of her back. She was naked, grinding her wet pussy on a near stranger’s cock. The heady sensation of freedom was intoxicating.

  Lifting herself onto her knees, she reached between them and gripped his erection. He froze. Then she gently rubbed the tip of him against her opening. He bracketed her hips in his hands, waiting for her to make the decision. The choice belonged to Flynn, and she was glad.

  “This is my choice,” she told him breathlessly. “I want you and I’m going to have you. Do you understand?”

  “Then take me.” His voice was like gravel.

  She impaled herself in one long stroke. The pressure of his thickness sliding deep within her channel left her gasping for breath. She gazed down at him and realized he was staring back. The emotional intimacy of the moment was almost more shocking than the physicality of it. She had never felt this connected to anyone before in her life.

  She rocked back and forth against him. Each stroke sent her clit rubbing against the base of his cock. Her muscles burned, and she knew she was close to losing control. Then she realized he was as well. His eyes were heavy lidded and sexy. With his lips parted and his facial muscles taut with pleasure, he looked like her every fantasy come true.

  The ultimate release snapped inside her body. She gasped and shuddered as the convulsions of her climax overtook everything. Her palms settled on his chest as she ground herself harder against him. Then he shouted and thrust up into her body. The pressure and friction was incredible. The sensation flung her into a tiny aftershock of shivery pleasure as he spilled his seed deep inside her womb.

  Flynn collapsed onto Grigori’s chest, her breathing ragged and her skin damp with sweat. She could hear his heart thundering in his chest. It was flattering somehow to know that she’d brought this man to his knees with pleasure—so to speak.

  “Wow,” she murmured on a sigh. “I think I just died.”

  “Da.”

  “That’s all you’ve got to say?” She propped her chin on his chest and stared up into his face.

  He grinned. “You’ve robbed me of my words.”

  “I suppose that’s an acceptable excuse.” A yawn caught her totally by surprise.

  Grigori wrapped his arms around her body and placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head. “You need to rest.”

  “Stay with me,” she whispered. “Don’t go.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised.

  Chapter Seven

  Flynn rolled over and immediately wished she hadn’t. The light was horribly bright. She tried to recall why she hadn’t closed her blinds like normal the night before, and that’s when the entire evening came rushing back with all the finesse of a freight train.

  She sat bolt upright in bed, glancing wildly around the sparsely furnished bedroom. Where were her clothes? “Grigori?”

  It was impossible to decide if she felt relieved or horrified when he leaned out of the bathroom with a toothbrush hanging from his mouth. “I’m right here.”

  “Okay. Right.” She hastily grabbed the sheet and pulled it up over her naked breasts. “We’re married. Correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Some stuff is hazy, but I thought I remembered that pretty clearly.” She paused a moment and then put her face in her hands. “My father is going to kill me.”

  “You seem to be of two minds about that,” he said cryptically.

  “What?”

  He ducked back into the bathroom, and she could hear him rinsing his mouth. The mundane nature of the activity made her laugh.

  “What?” He wa
lked into the bedroom wearing nothing but a towel.

  She had to force her brain to think about something other than what was under the towel. “You’re a total gangster type. I simply hadn’t realized that men who throw knives and participate in high speed car chases on dirt roads in the middle of nowhere also worry about oral hygiene.”

  “Everyone should worry about oral hygiene,” he said with mock severity. “It’s very serious.”

  “Yeah? Well, so is what my father is going to do to me when he gets ahold of me.”

  “Last night you seemed very confident that you could use me to get what you wanted from your father and vice versa.” He cocked his head to one side. “Why the change of heart?”

  “Everything looks different in the morning,” she murmured. “And maybe you just don’t know my father like I do.”

  “He sent you a telegram this morning.”

  “What?” She was so taken aback that she forgot to keep hold of her boob shield. Gasping, she pulled the sheet up once again. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to flash you.”

  “Last night you were begging me to look.”

  “Please don’t talk about that.” She grabbed a pillow and used it to hide her face. “I acted like a total tramp.”

  “We’re married. This is a no tramp zone.”

  She giggled, because who wouldn’t when faced with that ridiculous statement. “Okay, be serious. You’re saying I got a telegram? I didn’t even think they had those anymore.”

  “It’s not a normal use thing, if that’s what you’re wondering.” His expression turned pensive. “He wants you to meet him for lunch today.”

  “Wait.” She realized what he was saying. “You read my mail?”

  “Of course. You were asleep and I needed to make sure it wasn’t something that was going to involve more bullets.” He didn’t even appear sorry.

  “I suppose that’s reasonable.” She pursed her lips and gave him her best frown. “But next time ask.”