Blackest Night

by Stephanie Hoffman McManus

  The muscles in my core contracted and my breaths became heavier. He let go of my hair and my forehead fell forward. I pressed it against the wall and squeezed my eyes. He settled his hand between my shoulder blades, curling his fingers around my nape. I shivered, and his other hand snaked around my side to span my stomach. It slid down until his fingers dipped beneath the band of my leggings. He curled his fingers into my flesh over the top of my skimpy thong and then slowly, tauntingly, dragged them back out.

  His body pressed into mine and I felt the hard steel of his erection digging into my lower back. He shoved my hair to one side and hot breath feathered across the nape of my neck. His lips skimmed from there down to my shoulder, lighting a path along my overly sensitized flesh.

  I felt him rise up behind me and draw back. My leggings were shoved halfway down over my ass with one tug, this pair cheetah print. My underwear went with them. Another jerk and they were over my hips. My entire bottom was hanging out and exposed. I was so vulnerable in this position. My skin flushed. I felt like I was on fire. The little bit of light spilling out of the kitchen wasn’t much, but it was enough that I knew he’d be able to see the pink tinge all over my body. I tried to straighten, but his hand came down between my shoulders and held me to the wall.

  “Stay still,” he purred, but I wanted to squirm. I was embarrassed and feeling self-conscious with my full and round ass hanging out. His hand smoothed over one cheek and then the next.

  “Mmmm,” he groaned softly, and then I jumped and nearly smacked my head into the wall when his hand pulled away and came back down in light slap on one of my ass cheeks. The next one that followed was a little harder, and though I didn’t jump this time, I gasped. His rough, calloused hand massaged where he’d smacked, digging in to the generous offering that was my ass. My face grew hotter knowing it wasn’t as firm as I’d like it to be. Too much pizza, a few too many cupcakes, and not enough jogging for that. Nikolai didn’t seem to mind though. Low groans fell from his lips as he played with my ample bottom, swatting and caressing. Each smack that he delivered pulled another soft moan out of me until it was hot and stinging, and I was breathless and ready to weep from the unexpected combination of pleasure and pain. My insecurity was forgotten.

  Why was I letting him do this to me? No guy had ever spanked me before or treated me as roughly as Nikolai did. This was messed up and a tiny bit depraved, but I was more turned on than I’d ever been in my entire life. I was so screwed. But in the moment, when he was wringing pleasure from me, drop by drop, I didn’t care. I only cared about the arms now wrapping themselves around me. One curled tightly under my breasts, pulling me up and holding me to him, my bare back pressed against the soft material of his cotton shirt and the rougher denim of his jeans. The other splayed itself across my stomach, and then delved lower.

  His fingers found my hot, dripping center and I nearly buckled when the rough pad of his finger made contact with the tight bud of pleasure between my folds. The hand that wrapped around my midsection snaked up between my breasts and curled around my throat, tipping my head back to rest against his shoulder, while he stroked and teased me below with skilled fingers.

  My chest heaved with shallow, rapid breaths and I couldn’t string together words to form coherent thoughts beyond silent cries of, Yes! And, More! And, Oh God!

  When the first finger slid inside me, I was so close. He murmured dark and filthy words in my ear while he savagely fingered me, and it only pushed me closer toward the edge. He added a second finger, curling them inside of me to find that hidden spot while his thumb worked my clit. A few strokes and I went off like a bottle of champagne. My cries drowned out his wicked words and my knees gave out so that he was the only thing keeping me from collapsing on the floor while I rode out the onslaught of pleasure.

  He was breathing hard against my back and his strokes inside of me slowed until he drew his fingers out. After the last tremors subsided, I pried my eyes open and found that I was looking up into his icy blue gaze, only it didn’t feel so cold right now. The heat in them would have set me on fire if I weren’t already burning up.

  “Holy shit,” I breathed.

  His thumb stroked the line of my jaw and he continued to hold me against his chest while strength returned to my limbs. When I was finally able to stand on my own, his arms relaxed around me and he gently set me away from him. The moment we were no longer touching, embarrassment flooded me, and everything became uncomfortable. He stepped back, and I awkwardly dragged my pants up, and then bravely faced him. I could visibly see the distance springing back up between us, his features becoming more closed off by the second as he pulled himself together.

  He cleared his throat, “You can–”

  “Don’t,” I cut him off, my heart clenching as his words sucker punched me once again. “Don’t say it. I know I can go now.” My eyes stung as they searched for my bra and shirt.

  “Cassie,” his tone was that commanding one. Automatically my eyes obeyed, meeting his gaze. “I was going to say, you can use the bathroom to clean up if you need to.”

  “Oh.”

  He bent and picked up my bra at his feet and held it out to me. I snatched it and then retrieved my shirt and jacket which were strewn across the floor by the couch. I pulled them on, my hands shaking as I did. I was crumbling, but I had to hold it together long enough to get out of here. With my back to him, I drew in a steadying breath and hoped my voice wouldn’t quiver. “I don’t know what that was, but it shouldn’t have happened.”

  “Why not?” I felt him at my back. “Don’t tell me you didn’t like it, pet.”

  “Don’t” I shrilled. “Don’t call me that.”

  “Fine. Then don’t act like you didn’t enjoy what we did, Cassie.” He trailed a finger down my spine. I jerked away and faced him.

  “It was wrong and fucked up on so many levels.” I raked a hand through my hair and attempted to smooth it.

  “Why? Because we don’t like each other? Get it out of your head that we have to feel warm and fuzzy about each other. I don’t have to like you to want to fuck you, and you don’t have to like me to like what I can do to you. Sexually we have chemistry, and all the anger and hostility and loathing only makes it more intense. That’s all it is. You don’t have to feel anything else.”

  I shook my head. Maybe he didn’t, but I was feeling all sorts of things and they were all muddled together inside of me, twisting and churning my gut. I was near hysterical with all the shit I was feeling. I wished I could feel nothing the way he did. I wished his cold detachment didn’t sting so much, but I wasn’t like him. “I need to go.”

  “Then go.” His indifference was cutting.

  Even if this wasn’t some passionate, romantic tryst, we still shared something. Albeit, something dark, twisted, and sordid, but still something was between us, and I didn’t want to believe it was as fucked up and simple as Nikolai wanted to make it. I didn’t want to believe something that could feel the way it had in the moment could be so ugly. Was our spite really the only thing fueling it? Could it be narrowed down in the simplest of terms to friction? The resistance that one surface or object encounters when moving over another. The conflict or animosity caused by a clash of wills, temperaments, or opinions. Friction creates heat, that’s basic science, but the thought that I had given in to something so base, lowered myself to that, tore at me.

  “Goodnight, Nikolai,” I choked, and then, not sparing him another glance, scrambled for the door.

  ***

  Who was she?

  It was the same dark-haired, little bitch that left last night. Just a babysitter? But then why had she stuck around so much later tonight after he got home? What other services was she providing? Was she his lover too? I wondered if he knew about the bar she drove to last night, and that she hadn’t left alone.

  Clearly, the girl was a little slut, but still he left Eli with her. I’d only just arrived in Seattle two days ago, and already I could see that Eli ne
eded me.

  I just had to bide my time, and everything would fall into place.

  Seven

  Nikolai

  I’d hoped that Saturday morning when I got the call from the detective with the Houston PD, it meant they had news. Maybe a break in the case, but right away his tone told me any news he was about to deliver, wouldn’t be good. As if my day needed more shit piled onto it.

  “Have you heard from Michael Lawrence, recently Mr. Markov?”

  “Not since the day my son and I arrived in Seattle.”

  “When was it that you last spoke to Mr. Lawrence?”

  “It would have been Wednesday. I’ve tried calling him a few times since, but only get his voicemail. What’s this about?”

  “We haven’t been able to reach Mr. Lawrence in a few days, and we have questions regarding your ex-wife’s case.”

  “Did you find something more out?” I’d been reeling ever since the police first told me they were investigating her death as a possible murder. I’d even been a suspect for all of about twenty minutes. They always looked at the ex, especially when the split wasn’t pleasant. There were police reports from times our arguing got out of hand and things were thrown. Fortunately, I was a couple thousand miles away that night.

  “I can’t share case information with you, Mr. Markov. You know that.”

  “This is the mother of my kid, we’re talking about,” I grated.

  “I’m sorry, but I do have another question for you. Were you aware that your ex was leaving her husband?”

  “Lisa was leaving Michael?” Shit.

  “I’ll take that to mean you were not aware, and I’ll assume that you were also not aware that she was having an affair?”

  “Fucking hell, no.” Couldn’t say I was that surprised. I tried to warn the bastard. She cheated on me, so what was to stop her from cheating on him? “Why would I know something like that? You’re aware that my relationship with my ex wasn’t exactly amicable.”

  “So you’ve said. When we questioned Mr. Lawrence about his wife’s possible affair, he suggested she may have been seeing you.”

  I actually laughed. “I have no doubt she was cheating. That’s who she was, but it sure as shit wasn’t with me, Detective. If you’ve got dates and times that she was meeting up with her lover, I’ll be happy to provide my whereabouts during those times. I’ve only been in Houston a handful of times over the past few months and the only times I saw Lisa was when I was picking up or dropping off my son.”

  “Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Markov. If we do have any further questions, we’ll be in touch.”

  “Wait a minute, if Lisa was cheating, and you’re looking for Mike, does this mean he’s a suspect?”

  “At this time, we’re pursuing several possibilities.” Cop speak for yes. Fuck. I couldn’t believe Mike would off Lisa. Then again, I never liked the guy and people are often capable of much worse than you think.

  I got off the phone with the detective, and just for the hell of it, dialed Mike. Went straight to voicemail as it had the last half dozen times. “Mike, call me back when you can. Eli would like to talk to you, and I have our new address where you can ship his stuff.”

  I had no problem playing the Eli card if it meant the asshole might return my call. He hadn’t wanted to let Eli go, and I figured that hadn’t changed any in a week, so it might be the only thing to draw him out if he was laying low, avoiding phone calls. If that fucker did have anything to do with Lisa’s death, he better hope the cops got to him first. There was no love lost between me and her, but she was the fucking mother of my kid, and I’d kill the bastard for what he put Elijah through.

  Last night, he’d woken up in the middle of the night with nightmares and had come crawling into my room. It was almost noon now and he was still sound asleep upstairs in my bed. It’d taken me nearly an hour to get him calmed down and back to sleep. He’d overheard a conversation with the detectives back in Houston and knew someone had killed his mom. Kid had it in his head that someone was going to hurt him too.

  I’d never fucking let that happen. Ever.

  They’d have to go through me first, and I was not an easy sonuvabitch to put down.

  The next call I made was to my boss, Viktor Teller.

  “What’s up?” he answered. “How are things up North? You and the kid doing alright?”

  “Yeah, we’re doing good, but I need our guys to dig up everything they can on Michael Lawrence.”

  “Your ex-wife’s husband, that Michael?”

  “Yeah. Houston PD is looking at him for the murder and it seems he may be in the wind.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll get Ray and our guys on it.”

  “Thanks, Vik.”

  “Let me know if you need anything else, brother.”

  I assured him I would and then ended the call. I fired up my laptop on the kitchen counter and poured my second cup of coffee for the day while it started up. My next order of business was figuring out this childcare shit. I needed someone now, because I couldn’t let Cassie come back here. Not after last night.

  Fuck.

  Last Night.

  Last night probably shouldn’t have happened, but damn if she didn’t push me. That phone call Thursday night. Thinking about her trying to erase my memory with some fucking random bar hookup. I shouldn’t have cared one bit, but it pissed me off. She pissed me off, and last night I pushed back. It was an asshole thing to do. I’d thought I was just proving a point, and I did. I proved that she could hate me all she wanted, fuck whoever she wanted, but her body still craved me, would still submit to me. But then I took it further. Once I had my hands on her I couldn’t stop.

  I hadn’t counted on her driving me damn near to insanity. The way she let me take control of her body and her pleasure, it pleased me more than it should have. I knew from that first night with her that she preferred to let a man take charge in bed. That suited me just fine. She had no idea how much, but after last night, I realized that maybe her need to give up control ran deeper than I thought. I kept waiting for her to protest, to tell me stop, but she never did. I manhandled her, whispered truly filthy shit in her ear, fuck, I even spanked her, and she still came apart in my hands. I doubted even she knew how deep this side of her went. It was dangerous to even let my mind wander down that road. But last night it had wandered nonetheless. In the shower, after she was gone, I came harder than I had by myself in a long time, wondering what else she would let me do.

  Cassie was the last sort of headache and complication I needed or wanted in my life. Even if it was nothing more than an intense physical chemistry sparked by these mutual feelings of . . . shit, I didn’t even know anymore. I told her it was simple last night. That it didn’t mean anything. That we could go on despising each other, but did I even despise her?

  Yes.

  And no.

  She pissed me off and frustrated the hell out of me. She pushed every button she could find, and I pushed hers, but how much of that was because it’d gotten to the point where it was just fun? And how twisted was it that fighting with her was fun? Fucking, hell, if I thought it was messy screwing her the first time, what the fuck was I thinking now? The best thing I could do for her and myself was stay away from her.

  I didn’t trust myself not to cross any more lines or lash out at her and say stupid shit I knew I shouldn’t, and pour more gasoline on this fire. Sure, it made for a hot fire, but it could get out of control fast and blow up in your face if you weren’t careful.

  That is why I started searching around online for nannies in Bellingham. I came across a couple of agencies I thought looked worth checking out. I made a couple phone calls and by the time Eli came down the stairs, both services that I called were supposed to email me resumes on prospective nannies.

  Over blueberry pancakes, Eli told me all about the arcade and the fun he had with Cassie the night before. I’d had fun with her too, but that didn’t m
ean she was good for either one of us. I didn’t want Eli growing too attached.

  “What do you say tonight, you go over to Cam and Emily’s house and hang out with them while I work?” I asked him as I gathered up our breakfast dishes.

  “Cassie can’t come?” He sounded crestfallen at the prospect.

  “I don’t know bud. She’s watched you three times this week. I think Cassie might have other things to do. And you liked Emily. Remember, you met her at Uncle Spencer and Aunt Nora’s house when we went to dinner.”

  “I know,” he said dejectedly. “I just really wanted Cassie to teach me how to play Battleship. We didn’t get to play last night.”

  “You’ve never played Battleship before?” That was a staple game for any kid.

  He shook his head.

  “I thought you had that game?” I was sure he’d gotten it for a birthday or Christmas.

  “Yeah, but Mom and Mike never played with me.”

  I didn’t care if it was indecent to speak ill of the dead; fuck Lisa and that rat bastard she was married to.

  “And your nanny never played with you either?”

  “No. She just watched TV or looked at her phone. I didn’t like her, and Mommy didn’t either. She made her quit watching me ‘cause Mommy saw her kissing Mike.”

  I set the dishes in the sink and turned around. “Your nanny kissed Mike?”

  He nodded. “I saw them a couple times, and then Mommy saw them. Mrs. Mendez next door was watching me after school while Mommy tried to find a new nanny, but she didn’t like any of the ones who came. She told Mike they were too young and pretty. I think Mommy was afraid they would kiss Mike too. I heard her yelling at him ‘cause of it.”

  Fucking hell. They were real assholes. Eli shouldn’t have known any of this. They should have kept their shit away from him.