Two big boys right there, V thought as he caught Eva’s dazed reaction to the giant.
“This is becoming a real ass burner, my brother,” Maks drawled, the ink on his neck shifting as he spoke. “Lucky for you, I enjoy being revered as a savior.” His huge mitt clasped Gabriel’s nape and pulled him in for two loud kisses to each cheek to show he was forgiven for dragging Maks away from who knew what. “Vasily should be here in a couple hours.”
“What?” Eva gasped, popping to her feet. “My father is coming?”
Aaand, as one would expect, Maksim—who had the attention span of a cracked-out monkey—was instantly riveted. He shifted to the side, shouldering G out of the way to tower over the beautiful girl, not hiding the fact that he was clearly checking her out.
“Finally, in the flesh,” he murmured.
Eva waved away the bullshit with a flick of her wrist and an eyeroll that endeared her to Vincente forevermore. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but was it my father you were talking about? He’s coming here? Today?”
“Yes.” Maksim took her hand and brought it to his lips. “It’s an honor to meet you, Evangeline. Being the Pakhan’s daughter, I am now at your service for whatever you need. And I mean that in the truest sense. Whatever. You. Need.”
Vincente sighed. Fucking Kirov and his necessity to disturb the shit.
“I’m pretty sure your boy is taking care of her needs, Kirov,” the biker piped up with an edge to his voice. “Back the fuck off.”
“Caleb…” Eva warned.
“What. You don’t fuck with your buddy’s old lady, Priss, not even verbally. Doing so is fucking disrespectful.”
If he wasn’t so far away, V would have offered a fist for a pound.
“That how you got the shiner, gearhead?” Maks inquired silkily.
“Sit down, Maks.” Gabriel motioned to the other side of the table. “Over there.”
With his totally unrepentant silver eyes still on the biker, Maksim pulled out the chair that was between Eva and Caleb. “Sorry. But I think I’ll be much more comfortable on this end. Scenery is incredible.”
Before he could sit—fucking children—Vincente heaved to his feet, not relishing the idea of someone ending up with a butter knife imbedded in their carotid. “The shiner is my work,” he grumbled. “Now give it a fuckin’ rest and plant your ass before you have it handed to you.” He kicked out the chair next to his.
Giving G one last sidelong look—filled with affectionate humor—and the biker one that said he didn’t appreciate the lip, Maks wandered around and folded himself into his appointed seat.
“This okay, Papa?”
V sat and gifted him with an elbow to the ribs.
Gabriel held Eva’s chair, waiting until she sat before taking his own seat. He leaned into her, presumably apologizing for the scene. Those big blue eyes of hers were intent and focused as she listened. Damn. Would she be the one to tame the lonely beast?
Looked like it, he thought when she nodded and covered G’s hand with hers. If she was brave enough not to let all this shit with Stefano sway her.
And speaking of, he should touch base with the boys he had stationed around the hotel before the meeting began. He left the room with a back-in-a-second gesture to Gabriel.
With his boots thumping a nice beat, he traveled down the corridor and through the opulent lobby of the Crown Jewel, duster swishing in that familiar, protective way around his ankles. He ignored the usual stares brought on by his size and looks. Morons. Would the Nancys feel less threatened if he wore horned rims and a plaid button up?
Probably, he thought, aggravated, as he sent a group text when he reached the sidewalk and greedily inhaled a lungful of warm, salty air. He hung a left and stopped after a few feet, reading the replies as the sun peeked out from behind a cloud. It hit his jacket and caused the hide to throw off a comforting scent.
Satisfied that all was well, for now, he was tucking his phone away when a flash of color across the street drew his eye…
Thought ceased at the sight of a fucking pinup with a mane of hair that shone as brilliantly as the rays enveloping her. His heart rate actually kicked up a notch as she shut the door to a black Toyota and started across the street, moving with a natural grace that would have left a prima ballerina pissing with envy. She wore an oversize silky black wrap that flowed down to sway against her hips with every step she took, but the light breeze allowed a glimpse of a silver top and a fitted black skirt. Her long legs were fucking spectacular.
A hot wash of blood rushed through his veins to pool in his groin. A hard-on? From fifty feet away?
That hadn’t happened in a while.
His lower stomach clenched when the breeze caught her hair, making the waves that reached all the way to the small of her back dance. Jesus Christ, how many colors were in there? As she drew closer, he easily made out a rich, blazing russet, a burnished gold, and a vibrant ginger.
She glanced up, and Vincente felt the punch when his gaze collided with a pair of eyes the color of emeralds. Her step faltered, and without thinking, he threw his arm out, snaking it around her slim waist to stop her from falling at his feet.
“Oh!”
Happy to play hero, he pulled her up and in without expecting the scent of her to rock him square between the eyes. Before he even realized what he was doing, he’d tightened his hold and leaned into that gorgeous hair, inhaling the luscious scent of her deep into his lungs. It was like she’d bathed in…fresh, juicy oranges and warm jasmine. He swallowed a moan when her frame softened slightly against him.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathed.
It was over in seconds, their connection severed when she pulled back with a sharp jerk and an obvious wince. At her actions or his? He wasn’t sure.
Forcing his arms to fall to his sides as she took another step back, he watched her chin come up. Her eyes met his again and…pow. Right in the kisser. Like the old-school cartoon characters used to say.
“Excuse me,” she murmured, her expression turning wary. “I’m not usually so clumsy. I was just…startled…” She pulled her wrap tighter around her shoulders in a quick movement that made her flinch again. Was that the edge of a bruise?
His brows slammed down both at the thought of her being hurt and because he’d clearly spooked her.
“No worries. Be more careful.” His clipped order turned into an unmistakable dismissal when he spun on his heel and walked away.
He plowed his way back through the revolving doors, narrowly missing a tiny Asian couple who jumped away like he was God-fucking-zilla come to life. Wasn’t sure why he was so pissed. It wasn’t like he needed that kind of distraction right now. And the goddess’s ooo-the-boogeyman reaction had just guaranteed she wouldn’t be one.
Glaring like a demon at anyone who dared meet his eye, he stalked toward the back of the hotel, kicking her from his thoughts along the way. He saw a suit cradling a glass that held a dark liquid and ice and suddenly had the urge to join Alek on his next trip to Wastedville.
It wasn’t until he was nearly out of the lobby that he became aware of heels clicking behind him. Not just the random wanderings of the gawking female guests, but the steady tapping of a determined step.
She couldn’t be following him.
Slowing his pace, he took his time passing the entrance to the busy dining room, the tantalizing aroma of fresh seafood and perfectly cooked steak wafting up his nose, making his stomach growl. He hung a right and traveled down the conveniently empty hallway.
The clicking heels followed.
Pushing open the door that led to an expansive area of meeting room doors evenly spaced in a semicircle around where he now stood, V planted his feet and turned, propping open the heavy glass as if he were dressed in uniform.
“Didn’t get your fill the first time?”
Delicately arched brows, a few shades darker than that hair, came together in a frown as, yup, his dazzling redhead stalled a few feet away. She looke
d past him, and he knew she had to be cursing in that beautiful head of hers because she couldn’t get by without going through him.
“Was there something you wanted, Red?”
Her eyes flared. At his question? Or the nickname? He didn’t know or care. Was too busy watching her emotions change in those glittering emeralds. Outside she’d been wary, and then a second ago frustrated. Suspicion had just zipped through, and now she was getting…angry?
“Not from you,” she said frostily. “Excuse me, I need to get by.”
Not from him. That stabbed him in his chest. “Go ahead.”
Her pretty jaw actually rolled. Like she was grinding her teeth. Vincente smothered a smile.
“You’re in my way.”
Yup. Teeth were mashed together. Even as she spoke. “And you’re in a hurry?”
“To end this interaction? Duh.”
If he hadn’t been so engrossed, he’d have missed the flash in her eyes as they widened ever so slightly, like she’d surprised herself by talking back to him. She took a breath, let it out slowly, then seemed to relax. Her shoulders lost their stiffness as her lip quirked.
“You should learn some manners,” she then floored him by saying, clearly getting her groove on. The spook that had been in her expression out front was long gone. Now there was only irritation and something that looked strangely like enjoyment. “Then again,” she continued, “maybe you think, looking as you do, that you’re entitled to play the role of bully. Which you do very well, by the way. I’m guessing you’re not called on it much, huh?” Her chin tilted, and even though she had to look up to hold his eyes, it seemed she was looking down that perfectly straight nose at him.
Do not let your jaw fall, his pride ordered. And for fuck’s sake, squint your eyes or something before they roll out of your goddamned head.
“What’s your name?” Was he really going to let that verbal ass slap go without a rebuke?
Yeah. He totally fuckin’ was.
He relaxed against the door, crossing his arms over his chest, and nearly purred in satisfaction when her eyes followed the movement. Nice. His own gaze zeroed in, narrowing when she licked her lips. The action left a sheen of moisture behind that he had the strongest urge to taste.
Their gazes suddenly snapped together as if both of them had just realized they were staring, him at her mouth, her at his body.
“It’s real leather,” he supplied, giving her an out by making it seem as if he’d thought she was interested in his duster. “Wanna feel?”
A gorgeous flush spread up from her slender neck to her cheeks. “I think I’ll pass.” Despite the visible reaction, her flat, bored voice robbed him of his moment of pleasure.
And didn’t the asshole in him rise to the occasion like a predator after prey. “Your name.”
She glanced around the empty hallway. “What about it?”
“You didn’t tell me what it is.”
“No, I didn’t. Did I.”
He bit the inside of his cheek to keep it from stretching up to broadcast the fact that he was enjoying himself. He allowed silence to fall and just drank her in for a minute. Best way he’d found to get people to talk was to say as little as possible. Nothing like a good stretch of quiet to get the guts spilling.
But she just stood there looking like she’d been sculpted by Pheidias himself, giving as good as she got. Very nice.
“Not afraid anymore, Red?” Good. His curiosity hadn’t been evident in his voice.
Oh, he’d heard it, but he didn’t think she had.
She scoffed and scanned the area around them again. What was she looking for? “Of you? Please.”
The fun ended immediately, V’s teeth slamming together. He hated liars. With a passion. “You’re not gonna try telling me it wasn’t fear I saw in those eyes back there…are you.”
A flicker of alarm flew over her expression before she hid it. “I’m not?”
“No. You’re not. Because that would be bullshit.” His voice hardened even more. “Believe me, I recognize the expression when I see it.”
“You should. Look at you.” Her arm came up so she could glance at the sleek silver watch on her wrist.
Was he keeping her from something? Tough shit. “Somewhere you need to be? Late for an appointment, maybe?”
She shrugged, unconcerned, and he was suddenly overcome with an uncontrollable urge to smash her unflappable air to pieces. “How long have you worked this place?”
Ugh. Shut. Up. You immature, nasty prick.
Confusion put a miniscule wrinkle in the creamy skin of her brow. “Pardon?”
“How long. Have you. Worked. This place?” He pushed himself off the door, the soft whoosh of it closing them together in the quiet hallway. “Do you charge hourly or a flat rate? Do you keep a permanent room upstairs or do you make your men pay for it per visit?” He’d reached her at that point and had to clench his fists at his sides so he didn’t give in and brush his fingers over the flawless skin covering high cheekbones. Was it as soft as it appeared? “Can you cancel your next appointment so I can take you upstairs right now and make you scream?”
Vincente watched something wild skip over her expression at that last question; those soft pink lips even parted on a gasp. But then anger swallowed the lot and he got a front-row center to the reaction any self-respecting woman would have to being propositioned.
She lit up with a blazing fury that left him unable to hide his grin. Expecting it, he easily caught the hand that flew like a bullet toward his face, but had to move fast to catch a sharp knee on the side of his thigh instead of in his junk where she’d been quite accurately aiming. Her other hand came up as she grunted in frustration—this time with a closed fist? Shit! He almost laughed out loud. His pleasure in her actions didn’t stop him from snagging that wrist, also, and holding both in a loose but unbreakable grip.
“You big…you…pussy! What. Did I hurt your feelings when I agreed with you on how you view yourself? So you imply that I’m a prostitute? Seriously? Why? Because I’m half-decent-looking and wearing heels in the daytime? Seriously? And do you even realize what a loser you painted yourself by offering to hire me? Get your hands off me,” she snapped, almost as though only then realizing he still held her. She blinked when he immediately heeded her order but didn’t hesitate to take an unsteady step back. She didn’t get far when her back came up against the wall.
“Am I wrong?” he asked, privately astounded at the accuracy of her short rant. Pissed, actually, that she’d read him so well. “My bad. And you’re right. When I see a woman like you, strolling through the place like she owns it, which I know for a fact she doesn’t…” He inched closer, liking the nearly inaudible catch of her breath. Her eyes darted from his chest to his face a few times. “She’s alone…” He closed the remaining distance, so close now that he could see glimmers of gold in her eyes. His voice softened—and not on purpose. “Half-decent looking? Come on, Red. You look like you were created for the specific purpose of lying under a man. And you know it.” Not a man. This man. He bent his head, still not touching, and inhaled deep. He was granite in seconds.
The rapid rise and fall of her chest told him she wasn’t immune, and as he considered his next move, something came from his mouth that failed to pass through his brain first.
“I apologize.”
Huminuh wha?
He was still trying to figure out why that had slipped out when he felt the tentative touch of unsure fingers at his waist. His brain sputtered. She was touching him. Voluntarily. Had to take advantage while he could.
“I’m…I need to taste you.” Shit. His voice was wasted.
His knees just about failed him when she slowly tilted her head up, as if giving permission but at the same time not sure she wanted to. He came in, unable to wait until she was convinced, and softly touched his lips to hers. The little sound she made against his mouth nearly had him devouring her whole, but he leashed himself. Last thing he wanted to do was
frighten her again.
Never.
He dimly questioned the ferocity of that claim as his palm landed on the wall next to her head. For support? Uh, no, not at all. The other finally stole the chance and his fingertips brushed at the silky skin of her long neck. Oh, yeah, so soft.
When he used his thumb under her jaw to angle her head for better access, her lips parted and V’s world shook on its foundation at the sweet taste of her, his body following as his tongue delved deep into the warm cavern of her mouth. He heard the creak of leather at his waist and knew she was fisting the protective material of his duster. He savored the sound like he would his favorite song. And then, then, that first timid brush of her tongue over his came.
A low growl ripped from deep in his chest as his body moved in to cover hers, pressing utter perfection into the wall, learning the softness of her breasts, the flatness of her belly, memorizing the cradle of her hips, the length of her thighs. Holy hell, she was perfect. She fit him per-fect-ly.
He tilted his pelvis, shaking at the thought of grinding his aching—
The doors opened behind him and out of one of the meeting rooms streamed a crowd of chattering women. Who he immediately wanted to lay waste to. Every last fucking one of them for daring to interrupt something so mind-blowing.
He tore his mouth away from hers, but stayed right where he was, hiding her from sight. The erotic little pants coming from her, every inhalation pushing her breasts into his chest, nearly had him going in again, but he didn’t. He focused instead on trying to get his own ragged breathing under control.
“What the fuck am I doing?”
Her words were so faint, V figured she was talking to herself, but they still made him frown. Made him feel bad. He leaned down and put his lips to the top of her bent head. “It’s okay, babe,” he murmured quietly, savoring the feel of her. “They can’t see you.”
She drew back what little she could and looked up at him, and he nearly staggered back from the stark terror in her expression. At least he knew it wasn’t him that had caused the look this time, since she still had a deathlike grip on his jacket, making it impossible for him to put even an inch between them. Not that he would have at this point.
Vengeance Unleashed (The Wanted Men Series Book 1) Page 23