by Anita Gray
“What'd you just say?” Charlie asks, and the kitchen pauses in silence.
I peer back on instinct. Charlie is glaring at that guy with evil authority, his eyebrows so furrowed he looks wickedly dark.
“I-I wasn't talking to you, man,” that guy shakes his head, lifting self-protective hands. “S-sorry.”
“Keep your fucking mouth shut.” Charlie stalks up to him and points a steady finger in his face. “You understand that, boy?”
Rolling my eyes, I carry on through the kitchen and into the living room so we can be alone and undisturbed. Charlie's heavy footsteps follow me in.
“What'd you want to speak about in private, Blaire?”
“I can do no more than eleven minutes,” I say, facing him. I just want to get this over with so I can go home. “I'm sorry, Charlie, as is Maksim.”
Charlie stops right in front of me—literally. We're toe to toe, my eyes level with his chest. He doesn't say anything for a moment, and my anxiety peaks because I can sense he's staring down at me. I fight for my composure, thinking about being at home reading or something. It's easier to control my mental state if I'm not spiritually near him.
Lifting a hand, he runs a thumb over my jaw line, using the sharp of his nail when he reaches my chin. I'm mentally back in the room now. His touch seems to ignite my body. Hairs raise and my blood pumps a little faster.
I don't get this, the sensation of when he touches me. No one but Maksim has ever touched me like this before. No one but Maksim is allowed to touch me.
In the moment of thinking about Maksim, I aim to slap Charlie's hand away, that black switch going off in my head, but it's Charlie's voice that stops me in my tracks.
“Maksim told you, Blaire, fifteen minutes,” he whispers, his voice deeper than usual. It carries above the music coming from the kitchen.
Lifting my shoulders, I repeat, “I'm sorry, Charlie.” I don't sound like myself. I sound a little... breathless, and anxious. “I can't give you what I don't have.”
“Is that right?” Stepping forward, he practically puts us flush against each other.
I scowl up at him, defiantly meeting those powerful blue eyes. Why does he do this, ensure close proximity?
I step back, but he steps for me, smirking. Another step, and another, until I'm pressed against the wall. Charlie cages me in from the front, his legs slightly open as if he's readying himself for a fight.
I can feel the warmth from his body... smell the clean muskiness of his skin... It's all so inviting.
“No one is allowed to touch me,” I counsel him with all the will I have, lifting my chin so I can hold his consuming gaze. He towers over me by at least eight, maybe ten inches but I'm not afraid of him.
He knows I'm not.
He smiles down on me, and I'm not sure, but he looks... excited?
“Maksim will let me touch you,” he says, matter of fact.
My heart stutters. I know where he's going with this. I can see desire burning in his eyes.
To steer clear of a conflict I try to walk past him but he grabs my wrist. A black switch goes off in my mind and all I can hear are Maksim's words; no one is allowed to touch you, ever; no one but me, my little pet. He's told me this for years. He used to play a recorder on repeat while I slept until his words sunk into my subconscious. That's why I live to serve him.
I smirk back at Charlie. “You shouldn't have done that.”
He flicks up his eyebrows to challenge me.
I twist out of his grasp so fast that I land on my knees and elbow him back in the bollocks. He gasps out, doubling over, and lands on his hands. I sprint forward and stand, turning around to face him.
He lunges at me before I can register him on his feet, grabs my throat and runs back with me while groaning in anger, slamming me against the wall.
“Ah!” I gasp on impact, closing and opening my eyes, gripping his wrist with both hands.
He laughs in my face. “I'm not your little friend James.”
I choke in his grasp, my head getting dizzy, then I whack the inside of his elbow to buckle his arm.
“Neither am I.” I punch him in the face, causing his nose to burst open.
He isn't bothered. He tries to grab me again but I fight him off, cross-whacking his hands away but he keeps coming at me.
I've nowhere to go, so I boot him in the stomach with lower body force and wind him.
While he's bent over, I try to dash out of the living room but he fists the back of my hair.
“Aargh!” I spin around and pound at his chest, forcing him to free me. I can't go too crazy. Maksim is going to kill me for this as it is.
When Charlie is a few feet away, forced back by my attack, I jump up on one foot to kick him in the face with my other. He catches my ankle and yanks me forward; drops me to the floor.
“Awh!” I grimace as my back slams against the hard marble floor.
I don't let my pain take over my process. I bolt upright and try to grab his hand on my ankle but right now he's quicker than I am. I'm not on par tonight. He catches my wrist, still gripping my ankle in his other hand, and manages to flip me over so my face is sliding against the cold floor.
“That's more like it,” he says in my ear with humor. He gets both my arms behind my back and holds them there in one of his hands. He then grabs a hand-full of my hair again and hauls me to my feet; turns me around so I'm facing him. I have no choice but to stand here against him. If I fight while in this position and he pushes my arms up my back, they'll snap.
“You're fast...” He tugs on my hair to make me look at him, bending my neck back. His chest is hard against my breasts, crushing me to him.
I pant angrily, a little out of sorts. If only I had grabbed my gun and shot this bastard.
Through heavy eyes, he glances between my eyes and my mouth, and then he smirks like he's won. “Tell me, Blaire, why shouldn't I have done that?” He's enjoying this, I just now realize.
Is this what he wanted? To fight me?
I glare at him with wrath, at the stark perfection of his face. He's so fucking handsome it's stupid, even with his nose running red, smothering his top lip. His eyes are the most perfect shade of blue, darker under this light. His olive skin is flawless, begging to be marked.
“You really are a pretty little thing,” he whispers, his expression softening as he tips his head.
What? Are we thinking the same thing, of each other's beauty?
“I've never seen a girl so pale with a million freckles who is so wildly pretty.” He leans down then, putting us nose to nose.
“You need to let me go,” I say in a panic, trying to shove away from him because he's going to try and kiss me.
He pushes my arms further up my back. I wince, squeezing my face in agony. My arms feel like they're going to pop out of their sockets.
“Stop fighting,” he says, then his lips seal over mine, catching my pleading, no!
Everything goes blank. I can't see a thing, nor can I breathe. The air is caught in my throat.
Charlie is surprisingly gentle in taking my mouth, humming with pleasure, his lips soft and full.
I think about biting his tongue as it probes tenderly at my mouth, but I don't. I just keep my lips together, basking in the sensations of his smooth face on mine, his tongue doing this mind-blowing slow licking thing across my upper lip.
My veins buzz with unfamiliar sensations, every inch of my body inundated with... with... I don't fucking know. I'm so...
...In my entire life of battle and blood, I've never, ever, felt anything like this before.
“C'mon, Blaire,” his breath smells like brandy, spicy and hot, “let that wrought iron guard down.”
I shake, trying to keep my lips shut but it's so hard. My body wants this—everything that can be puckered, is—while my mind is screaming for me to shut down and attack.
“You'll let me kiss you.” His smooth face rubs across mine as he puts his mouth to my ear, breathing heavily, maki
ng me shiver. “If you don't, I'll bend you over that sofa and fuck you right in the ass.”
Fear belts through me and my eyes fly open. We look at each other for a split second, like there's nothing else in the world but us. His face is dark with lust. His eyes almost look black because his pupils are dilated.
A lure smile spreads across his face, drawing me into the darkness that is him. I gasp, horrified this is happening. I cannot help it. Maksim has never prepared me for anything like this.
Charlie takes the opportunity to invade me as I gasp. Tipping his head to the side, he dips his tongue in my mouth, moaning with satisfaction. He tastes me in endless, leisured licks, causing something hot and heavy to gather between my legs.
My toes curl in my trainers while my stomach is flipping.
His blood tastes metallic. His lips are softer than I ever imagined but demanding, making mine swell.
“You're sweet,” he says in my mouth, massaging his tongue over mine. “So, fucking, sweet.”
“Charlie,” I squeeze out his name, but before I can say anything more, he closes his mouth completely over mine, making us airtight.
He groans with such passion. The sound vibrates through my chest.
Now, I'm throbbing between my legs—it's the most confusing feeling—and there's warm liquid in my pants. I've definitely not felt this before. Yes, Maksim has made me please him—he's made me suck his cock or milk him while he kisses me—and yes I felt a little warm at times, but this is on another level.
Divorcing everything I know, I find myself melting in Charlie's arms, almost buckling at the knees. I even think I moan. I hate that, but I can't help it.
“That's it,” he rasps out. Letting go of my arms, he holds me around the waist in one arm and yanks me up so my feet aren't touching the floor, making me squeal in shock. He puts us chest to chest. His is pure, solid muscle and his heart is pounding.
So, it's not just me...
He keeps his other hand in my hair at the back of my head, holding us mouth to mouth, but right now, I don't mind. The pinching in my scalp is the only thing telling me that this is real.
I put my tiny hands on his shoulders and kiss him back, just how he's kissing me, carefully and avidly. Our lips mold as one. Our tongues dance over each others in a twisted game of seduction.
I could happily get lost in him.
———
Someone whistles from behind us, startling me.
“She's off limits, my friend.”
It's Maksim.
My heart explodes in my chest.
Yanking up my knee, I try to knee Charlie in the kahunas but he anticipates my move, blocking my attack with his leg.
He laughs in my mouth, pressing one last peck to me, smothering me in his blood.
“I like you,” he says quietly, so quiet in fact that Maksim cannot hear him.
Slowly and warily, he puts me down on wobbly legs and steps back, holding out his hands for if I might attack him again. I'm not going to. I couldn't even if Maksim ordered me to. I'm in a right old state. My body is aching for Charlie's warmth and his scent, and most of all, his touch.
What the fuck is this?
I'm confused with what he makes me feel. I know I have to obey Maksim and all his requests. I know to risk my life for Maksim. I'm wired to attack anyone who touches me—anyone but Maksim—but I didn't fight Charlie when he kissed me. I guess I let him.
My thoughts are driving me nuts! I know nothing of this... this... I don't even know what the fuck this! is.
“She got you good.” Maksim laughs with blatant amusement. “Don't take it personally, my friend. My little pet is trained to takedown anyone who touches her without my permission.”
“Why is she off limits?” Charlie prowls over to Maksim, who is standing in the doorway looking at me.
I cannot see that he's looking at me. I just know.
I wipe my lips with a single finger, relishing in the sight of Charlie's blood coating my pale skin. I can still taste him.
That kiss was nice.
I blink up at Charlie and Maksim, my head still in a desire fueled fog. They're watching each other like dangerous predators.
“Maksim,” Charlie snaps, “why. Is. She. Off. Limits?”
Maksim slants his head to me, his eyes thinning. “She's innocent, and I'd like for her to stay that way.”
Charlie's eyes zoom in on me and the look on his face... He wasn't expecting Maksim to say that.
“Fuck off is she innocent?” Charlie points a leveled finger at me. “Why would you have a nice girl like that and not have her?”
Silence, though I can almost hear Charlie's thoughts running through his mind.
“I have my reasons... Why don't you go and get yourself a proper drink, my little pet?” Maksim ushers for me to leave. He half smiles too, as if pleased with me. “Charlie and I have some business to discuss.”
“Yeah, you bet we do.”
On autopilot, feeling a little more like myself with Maksim's order filtering through my system, I nod and walk past them, eyes down, heading for the kitchen. I could do with a cold, stiff drink. It's been a crazy day.
The hallway is aglow with soft blue lights shining up the white walls, walls that boast pictures of every boxer ever to have won a world title.
Charlie is a seriously good fighter. I wonder who taught him.
I need to find out exactly who he is—knowing he's a syndicate leader isn't enough. I don't trust him or his intensions—nor his effort to bend me to his will with that damn kiss, for that matter.
Though, it was a nice kiss.
I'll not tell Maksim that. Charlie's bloody nose tells him all he needs to know, that I fought. I fought against him for touching me.
Perhaps that's why he was so relaxed about catching Charlie and I in that compromising position—he thinks I resisted.
In the kitchen, where it's still heaving in naked women, that guy says nothing to me. He moves out of the way and lets me walk through the cooking space.
Pulling out the hair tie from my bun, I let down my hair because it's a fuzzy mess. I then grab a beer out of the fridge, crack open the lid, and guzzle down a healthy mouthful, ignoring the music and the people around me. The bitter liquid is refreshing. I sigh, resting back against the counter top. The bottle is so cold that droplets of water gather under my palm. I press the bottle to my cheek, feeling hot.
I still cannot believe Charlie just kissed me. No one has ever kissed me like that before. Maksim is cruel when romantic—if I can call what he does to me romantic—but it's all I know. Though now, I have this. Whatever this is.
Over an hour passes before Maksim and Charlie enter the kitchen. I'm still standing by the fridge, looking as though barely a minute has passed.
“I guess I will see you in a week or so, Charlie,” Maksim says with obvious irritation, making his way outside without looking at me.
I frown. Why isn't he coming to speak to me? He usually says goodnight at the least.
“Out!” Charlie barks, and everyone—I mean everyone—leaves through the back doors.
I aim to leave too but Charlie stops in front of me and says, “Not you.”
I rest back against the countertop in resistance.
“The eleven minutes will work.” He takes the beer out of my hand and pours the rest down his throat. “You all right, Blaire?”
Arching my neck back, I scowl at him, noticing he's cleaned up his face of blood. “Of course I'm all right. What's Maksim doing?” I grab the edges of the kitchen counter because Charlie virtually puts himself between my legs. “What are you doing?”
With the back of his finger, he wipes my upper lip and shows me his blood is still on my mouth. Again, much to my frustration, I don't even think about hitting him for touching me. I simply get rid of the blood on my mouth by using the cold, leather sleeve of my jacket.
“Maksim's joining the party,” he says softly, his blue eyes glued to my face. “We've come to a deal.�
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“A deal?” I whisper in mystification. Maksim hasn't told me of any deal. He usually tells me everything. “A deal about what?”
Charlie smiles lazily at me. I glower with confusion. His mood is different than before when we were in the living room. He seems very... I can't be sure. Satisfied, maybe?
“Your hair's longer than I thought it was.” His eyes glance over my appearance and then he reaches out for a strand of my hair; runs his fingers down it, making my scalp tickle. “It looks nice down.”
Ignoring his inane compliment and these weird vibes he's got going on, I ask, “What deal have you come to, Charlie?”
Still fondling with my hair, he stares at my mouth in total silence and my heart is suddenly pounding. I don't like that look on his face, that dark, I won, look.
“Maksim's got a hefty debt with me. He's been trying to pay it back but I don't want money. I've got enough of that.”
“Oh'kay...” I blink at him a few times. “Well, what do you want then?”
Charlie stares up at my eyes now, gazes with wicked intent, while curling that lock of hair around his finger. “You-”
I go cold on the spot.
“-And as he knows better than to refuse me, you're now mine for three months or until I get bored.” He's still speaking, still playing with my hair, but I'm not really listening.
I'm not sure how long I stand there for gawping at him until I yell, “What!?!” I push against Charlie's chest, hard enough to knock him back a step and let go of my hair. “I'm not going anywhere with you. What fucking debt are you talking about?”
I know Maksim can probably hear me shouting but right now, I don't care.
“Charlie, what debt?”
Putting the beer bottle on the side, he leans back against the fridge and crosses his arms. “We did a job together a few years back and unforeseen circumstances meant I wasn't able to collect. While I was away, Maksim spent the money without my permission, so now, I'm collecting.”
Steam blows out of my ears.
“Not through me you're not,” I hiss, my face tense with anger. “I'm going to speak with Maksim. He wouldn't barter me to pay off some debt.”