Fuck, he could already feel it, the way she would clench and squeeze and jerk.
And with one more brutal thrust, she went blissfully fucking tight around him, enough to make him see stars, before she was screaming, begging, pleading.
He was helpless to last, and as he finally said fuck it and let go, he knew before the last pulse shot down his spine that he was never letting her go.
An almost uncomfortable warmth woke Winter the next morning.
It only took half a second to remember she wasn’t in her own bed, but in Răzvan’s, her back tucked against his chest while he was still fast asleep. He had one arm hooked around her waist, and even if she made the slightest movement, he adjusted with her.
This was … different.
Not a bad different, but different all the same.
First, she had never slept next to a man before, and definitely not tangled up with him so close it was hard to tell where he stopped and she began.
But the longer she lay there, the more she realized she didn’t want to be anywhere else.
Was it stupid to feel this way about someone she’d only known for months? Probably.
His arm banded around her waist. Even in his sleep, he held tight as if he never wanted to let her go.
Maybe it was the job they’d just finished the day before.
Maybe it was because of what happened after.
But she didn’t care why he held her like a lifeline—she never wanted him to stop.
God, where did that thought come from?
Hadn’t it only been some weeks ago that she was in London chasing another man—a man she had been so sure she loved with every last bit of her heart?
Răzvan wasn’t making her question her love for Syn. She loved him with every breath in her body, but she did wonder about the kind of love.
Because if she loved him the way a woman loved a man, would she be here now? Naked, in bed with someone else?
This hadn’t been where she’d meant to end up with Răzvan, not even a little bit, but even still, it felt right.
It wasn’t forced.
It hadn’t been because they’d had one too many drinks.
Inevitable, she thought as she traced the veins on the back of his hand.
This moment felt inevitable.
As she reached his wrist, Răzvan’s hand twitched a moment before the rest of him stirred.
He was awake now—she could tell from the way his thumb lightly stroked over her stomach before he loosened the hold he had on her and she could finally turn to properly face him.
The early morning sunlight did wondrous things for him as it spilled across the bed from the high windows.
His blue eyes were soft and sleepy, watching her watch him.
Considering everything they had done the night before, it was ridiculous that butterflies were fluttering to life in her stomach now.
He’d done things to her that made a flush of heat race down her spine and color rise her cheeks.
She definitely shouldn’t have been feeling shy, yet she was, and there wasn’t a shy bone in her body.
But she was lying beside him as naked as the day she was born.
Maybe a small part of her had wondered what sex would be like with him. Whether it would be awkward at all, but awkward was the last thing she felt last night.
Never trust the quiet ones.
Răzvan smiled as if he knew what she was thinking and thought her cute for it.
With a kiss on her forehead, he slid from the bed and walked naked across the floor into the bathroom, pushing the door closed behind him.
She’d never understood why some women were crazy about men’s butts—she’d never thought anything of them—but Răzvan made her reconsider.
Her phone chimed as the faucet turned on in the bathroom.
Before she could wrap her hand around the device where it was plugged into the wall on the floor, another message came in.
The first was from Tessa, wanting to meet later to go over what they had before presenting it to Piston.
And the second … the second made her grip her phone a little tighter.
Syn: Give me a ring.
They hadn’t spoken much since London, not that she had put much effort into trying. At first, it had been purely out of embarrassment from waking up next to Syn who’d looked horrified at the sight of her, but then Răzvan had stolen her attention.
Weeks ago, she would have texted him back immediately—truthfully, she would have found any excuse to talk to him—but rather than answer, she clicked the button on the side of her phone to turn off the screen.
Letting it drop on the bed before rolling over, she jolted as she caught sight of Răzvan standing in the doorway, arms folded across his chest, now in a pair of loose shorts.
“The silent thing? Kind of hot when you have your mask on, not so much now.”
A corner of his mouth tugged up, but he remained where he stood. —Everything good?—
He nodded at her phone, but she didn’t look away from him. “Nothing important.”
His expression said he didn’t believe her, but he didn’t call her on it. —Hungry?—
Tangled strands of her hair fell over her shoulders as she sat up, holding the sheets to her chest. “Is that an offer, big guy?”
He started toward her. —Come on.—
“I need clothes,” she reminded him as his fingers wrapped around her ankle. “Or did you forget your brothers are here? I’m into a lot of things, but being put on display isn’t one of them.”
His expression changed, darkening around the edges a bit. —I don’t plan on sharing you.—
Well, when he put it like that. “Then, by all means, feed me.”
Grabbing his shirt, she pulled it on, yelping as he tugged her down the bed and lifted her over his shoulder, not faltering a step as he carried her from the room and down the hall.
Even as she reached back to pull her shirt down to cover her ass, there was no point with his arm banded across her thighs.
“I probably shouldn’t enjoy you manhandling me,” Winter muttered, swatting his butt as he walked, “but I can’t complain.”
Răzvan shook with laughter, but she didn’t get to see the smile on his face until he dropped her onto one of the four barstools and rounded the island.
From the refrigerator, he pulled a pack of bacon, eggs, and several other things that made her brows inch up.
When he’d suggested breakfast, she’d thought something small—oatmeal, maybe, since that was usually what she went for—but he was apparently going all-out, though going all-out for her could have been his usual.
Bacon, eggs, even bagels. She was surprised a group of bachelors actually had food in their place, and the counters weren’t littered with an assortment of old fast food containers.
She watched him work in silence, captivated by his quiet intensity.
Would she ever get used to that? The way he could fill up a room without ever speaking a word.
Others might have been lost or forgotten in the shadows and silence, but nothing about Răzvan could be overlooked.
Once he set the plate in front of her, she could only stare at it all for a bit.
Răzvan was studying her, trying to read her expression. —Too much?—
“Oh, no. You can bet your ass I’m eating all this. It’s just … my father could burn water if you let him.” She laughed even as she thought of those days when she’d been a little afraid to eat his food. “He was awful. One time, he even gave me and my mom food poisoning.”
He’d been terrified while they were practically bedridden for nearly two days after, but he had promised never to cook again after that.
Funny how a memory of nausea and puking made her smile.
“So,” Winter said with a shake of her head to clear her thoughts. “Who taught you how to cook? Your mom?”
At the mention of his mother, he grimaced, his entire expression changing. They all had thei
r issues—only a certain type could do what they did—but there was a story behind this and knowing what she did about Syn, she only hoped Răzvan’s story wasn’t as bad.
—I learned out of necessity.—
She tore off a piece of bacon and chewed thoughtfully, wondering how best to broach this topic. She knew all too well how parents, or family in general, could be a hard limit, and the little she remembered him telling her that night when she told him how she’d ended up with the Den didn’t speak highly of the woman.
—My mother died when I was very young, and my father’s wife didn’t know her way around a kitchen.—
The way he phrased that, the two women weren’t one and the same, and while there seemed to be affection for his mother, there was only disdain for his stepmother.
“But your father was a baker, wasn’t he?”
—He was.—
“Did he teach you that?”
—For a time. I spent two years in his bakery before …—
He hesitated, and she had a feeling whatever memory he was lost in wasn’t a pleasant one.
Which, if she had to guess, ended with thoughts of the orphanage. But if he’d had his parents, or his father rather, why had he ended up there anyway?
“Does that mean you can make a mean cake?” she asked, hoping to lighten his mood.
He looked appreciative for the change. —I do okay.—
Her phone buzzed again, drawing her attention to it. Seeing Syn’s name again made her fingers twitch.
“Looks like I’m overdue for a meeting.” She couldn’t meet his gaze as she slipped off the barstool. “I should get going.”
—D’you want a ride?—
“I’ll take a cab.” His frown told her he didn’t like that much. “Don’t worry, big guy. Pretty sure I can manage that much.”
Plus, she needed to be alone.
She would need her wits to call Syn.
Chapter 9
If she could go back, Winter would have definitely crawled back into Răzvan’s bed and convinced him to watch a sappy romance movie with her instead of having him drop her off at her place, then venturing back out to Tessa’s.
But work must be done before she could have her fun—no matter how much she would have rather been doing the latter.
“Let’s make this quick, guys,” she said as she walked into the apartment, dropping her bag on the floor next to her as she plopped down on the couch.
“Long night?” Tessa asked teasingly before pressing her finger against a sore spot on the side of Winter’s neck.
Damn Răzvan.
She glared at her in answer before asking Ollie, “Didn’t you say you already messaged Piston?”
“Yeah, we’re just waiting to hear back.”
Technically, they already had everything they needed to access the money—account numbers, a pin number (which seemed to be the same for all his accounts from what she had found), and Ollie, since he was a man and could pretend to be Sylvain. The only thing they needed now was the acknowledgment, and the job was done.
Winter was secretly proud of all they had done. Sure, Răzvan had been instrumental in having this go well, but she’d still been the captain of the ship, and things hadn’t gone too crazy.
If she didn’t count Răzvan’s shredded hand and the slight ache she felt between her legs.
But she wouldn’t change a thing.
“So what was so important that it couldn’t wait?” Winter asked, looking at the screen and trying to make sense of what she was seeing.
“Do you see what I see?” Ollie asked excitedly.
She didn’t—not at first.
Not until her mind processed the names in one column and the series of numbers in the other.
“Is this a ledger?” she asked, more to herself than him.
If it was, Sylvain hadn’t bothered trying to use his own encryption—he just listed the names and the amounts next to it.
“We think this is where all the money came from,” Tessa said, gesturing down the list with a sweep of her finger.
It made sense.
It was important to keep track of how much money was taken from whom, but the names on this list … she might not have known all of them, but the few she did made her wonder how Sylvain had managed as long as he had.
“Just think about it,” Ollie said excitedly, “we could probably use this to our advantage.”
“On a scale of like one to ten, you’re at a fifteen for bad fucking ideas.”
“Winter—”
“Oh, don’t Winter me. Take it from me—blackmail never ends well.”
She’d seen in the worst of ways how blackmail could go horribly wrong. It always seemed easy on the surface calling with a list of demands, but depending on the person you were trying to extort, some would ignore you, thinking you didn’t have the stones to actually go through with it.
Or worse, they tried to kill you to get rid of the problem altogether.
Either way, blackmail was risky business.
“But—”
“Nope. Give me the file.”
She didn’t wait for him to answer. Instead, she just pushed him aside and started typing, deleting any evidence of the file as well as searching through every inch of his hard drive to make sure it was completely gone.
Ollie’s face mottled with red as he glared at her. “That’s bullshit.”
Winter rolled her eyes. “Just trying to save your life, you idiot.”
“Why should we have to ask your permission anyway?”
Tessa’s mouth fell open in surprise. “Ollie, maybe you shouldn’t—”
“Is this about the money?” Winter asked, straightening. “Because if it is, you can have my cut if you want.”
“It’s not about the money! You don’t get to tell us what the fuck to do just because you have a cushy position with The Kingmaker.”
“You think being his hacker is cushy?” He obviously didn’t know the fucking meaning of the word. “You have no idea what that means.”
And no idea what she sacrificed to be what she was.
No one had any idea the extent The Kingmaker used her. Sometimes, it kept her up at night.
“If you don’t like what I have to say, then don’t call me again.” Winter grabbed her bag from the floor.
Ollie didn’t respond, not even once she was out the door, but Tessa was right behind her.
“He doesn’t mean any of that,” Tessa called out, hurrying down behind her. “There’s just a lot going on, and he never responds to stress well.”
“Tessa—”
“He’s always wanted to do what you’re doing,” she rushed on. “Working for a man like The Kingmaker. It’s not about the money.”
Winter stared at her.
“Okay, it’s not completely about the money. He wants the recognition.”
Only one man she knew in a quest for power actually had the means to accomplish it, but she also knew the price he had to pay for what he wanted.
And in the process, he’d acquired a lot of enemies.
“I’m taking off, but word of advice, be careful with Ollie. Probably won’t be the last time he wants to do something stupid.”
She just wouldn’t be sticking around to watch it happen.
Blueprints were intricate, sometimes conflicting things that had to be worked out with time and precision, but Răzvan had learned how to read them—how to study their secrets and mold what was in them.
Months with Winter and he still couldn’t figure her out.
She would be right beside him, yet it still felt as if she wasn’t there at all.
Not only had she taken off for a few days, but he hadn’t talked to her since they’d last seen each other some nights ago.
He hadn’t even known her for very long, yet he already wished she was back with him.
“Yo?”
Răzvan glanced back, not in the mood for company, but Thanatos didn’t take ‘get out’ very well.
/> “When did you learn how to build computers?” Thanatos asked as he walked farther into the room, his eyes scanning over the contents on the table. “I don’t remember that assignment back with the Society.”
Răzvan smirked but didn’t look up. —Most of our assignments didn’t require anything more than a gun and creativity.—
After all, the assassinations were all meant to look like accidents, but he’d always needed a hobby outside that. He was good at fighting and killing, but he’d wanted to be something more.
They all had their own thing—hobbies as he liked to think of them—and electronics were his. He liked to tinker with things until he knew how they worked, taking them apart and putting them back together again.
He was also in control of the recordings they used on their bank jobs.
“This have anything to do with why you’ve been ghost lately?”
Răzvan didn’t entertain that with an answer. —Did you need something?—
Thanatos just stared at him. “Yeah, you’re distracted.”
Tossing down the screwdriver he held, he looked up. —What are you talking about?—
“Fang is back, and he brought a friend.”
His brow knitted as he pulled out his phone, but Răzvan paid no attention to Thanatos walking back out of the room, too surprised that he hadn’t noticed his other brother back in the loft.
But one glance at his phone, and running the security feedback, Fang had definitely come in while he was busy working on the computer … and he wasn’t alone.
He didn’t know what surprised him more—Fang coming back so soon, or the fact that he’d brought a female along with him.
Interesting.
Before he could get to his feet, though, a knock sounded on the door before it was pushed open.
Standing on the other side, looking a bit rangier and slightly unkempt, was the brother he’d been afraid he lost.
—You look like shit, Fang.—
For the first time in months, Fang actually smiled, rubbing his neck and briefly covering the tattooed X there. “I’ve heard worse.”
Răzvan glanced back at his phone, remembering the girl he’d come in with. —Something you want to share with the rest of us?—
He couldn’t think of a single instance when Fang looked embarrassed—he was as shameless as Thanatos—but at the very mention of the girl, he actually looked as if he was at a loss for words.
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