City Of Sin: A Mafia & MC Romance Collection

by K. J. Dahlen

  I could imagine him shrugging, and I shut my eyes against the red haze that crossed my vision. She was a human being. I’d done lots of things to human beings that made me call out in the night in sweat-soaked sheets, but she was innocent—probably in every way. “She’s excited to come to meet you. She thinks she’s being protected.”

  “I’m aware. That’s all part of the plan.”

  After I hung up, I mentally ran through my options, my fingers pressing into my forehead. While I didn’t agree with the Boss’s plan, I also wasn’t sure I wanted to take him over Anya.

  I had to take a stance somewhere, though. It might as well be over a woman. At least that would make more sense to the Bratva than a desire to get a doctorate in Russian literature. I wanted out, and I could call in the favor for protection against myself. But that would leave Anya unprotected, and the Boss would come after her.

  What else could I do?

  I looked into the SUV window to where she sat, looking at her lap. She was young, but there was something in her eyes that made her seem older. Still, innocent. Pure. A printsessa. I prided myself on being a man who could control his every move, but found it impossible not to stare at her. So I did. Her head jerked up, as though she could feel my gaze. She stared back, her expression unreadable through the glare on the glass. The barrier between us didn’t stop me from imagining the lush pout of her mouth and the flush in her cheeks.

  Suddenly an idea crept into my head.

  All I had to do was stay away from her and keep my hands to myself.

  I could do that.

  For the next three hours.

  In a car.

  With her candy scent around me.

  Great.

  4

  Anya

  I could sense a change in his mood when he got back into the car. He seemed even more serious, if that was even possible. It was like being outside had cooled him down on the inside. His shoulders were tense, his hands clenched around the steering wheel again.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked. Viktor didn’t seem like the sort that was easily worked up, so if something was going on, it must be major.

  Worry gnawed at my stomach—not just for me, but for him as well. That surprised me. I needed to be careful of how attached I got to him. I likely wouldn’t be seeing much of him after I got to Piotr Petrov. Although he did say that he worked for the Boss, so maybe I would? No, I knew better than to assume that I would see him again.

  “It’s fine,” he responded, short and firm. Clearly that was the end of the conversation, as far as he was concerned. If I had more to say, he wasn’t interested in hearing it.

  I looked over at him, running my eyes up and down him. Viktor was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. My face flushed as I examined him, from the scar on his cheek down to where his seatbelt crossed his body. He might be broody, moody, and sullen…and somehow all I wanted to do was straddle him in the car seat.

  My mouth dropped open at my own inner thoughts. My gaze dropped to his crotch. Again. Once was an accident, twice was… well, very naughty of me. I whipped my head around to look out the passenger window, staring out to the fields they were passing by. What was I doing looking at his crotch? His bulging crotch. A very large bulge, if I was anyone to judge.

  The unfamiliar surroundings did surprisingly little to keep my attention after that, and I drifted off. I dreamed of home, of being a little girl in a crowd of shouting men and orange flags. Viktor’s hand on my thigh woke me instantly. I’d only been sleeping for an hour, but in that time it had grown dark outside.

  I looked down at his fingers resting by my knee. He jerked his hand back as though singed. “Why are we stopping this time?” I asked, pressing my knees together.

  He looked at me fully, his green-eyed gaze drawing me in. “I’m tired and we need to get off the road.”

  “What? Why?”

  He hesitated. “There may be people following us and we need to throw them off. They won’t be expecting us to stop so early.”

  I looked behind us, but only saw the glaring constellation of headlights. How could he tell if someone was following us with this amount of traffic? “Should I be worried?”

  His chuckle was dark and hoarse. “Printsessa, everyone should worry. Always.”

  I didn’t want him to be worried, didn’t like thinking about it. He seemed too cool, calm and collected. As if being in control was what he specialized in. “So, a hotel? Or do you live nearby?” The thought of being in Viktor’s home made my stomach flip.

  “Hotel.”

  “Okay.” He blinked, maybe surprised that I would give in so easily. Maybe I had been a little difficult on this ‘road trip’ but he had to understand that my future was unknown to me—even the next few hours with him. So far, I didn’t have a job or any real money, but I knew that I had Boss Petrov’s protection and that was all I could count on so far.

  When we got to the hotel, he handled the reservations and then carried my luggage up to the room. Once it was spread out on the bed, I began to root through my things for something to sleep in.

  I caught him looking, his teeth flashing brightly and his face blooming with a genuine smile. Not a grimace or a sneer or a sardonic tilt of his head. No, Viktor grinned, and it perked up my own mood.

  “What are you smiling at?”

  He pointed to my yellow suitcase. “I thought there might be drugs or guns in there. Not this.” He picked up a frilly tank top.

  I laughed weakly. “For some women, fancy lingerie is addictive.”

  His head tilted to one side. So did his mouth. “It’s a different kind of weapon, I guess.”

  The sight of the silk between his fingers made me wonder what his touch would feel like on my skin. “It’s only deadly if you know how to use it.”

  Viktor’s eyes were dark in the lamp light from beside the bed. “Somehow I think you’re a quick learner.”

  If he wanted to teach me, I would be a good student. I would study… hard.

  My whole body felt hot, the little hairs on my arms rising and my nipples hardening into tight, tingling buds. Slowly, he held out my tank top. I lowered my gaze as I took it from him, bunching it up with my thin sleep shorts. I hadn’t expected to sleep… not alone.

  “I’m just going to, um, change.” I felt his gaze on me as I went into the bathroom, but I managed to shut the door before my knees wobbled. I took my time—lots of time. Longer than I needed, but not as much as I wanted.

  How could I want someone like this? Especially someone I barely knew? I didn’t have enough experience to understand what was happening to me; all I knew was that Viktor made my heart stutter. Now I would go back out there, in a skimpy camisole and shorts, and share a bed with him?

  Bozhe mei.

  When I left the bathroom, Viktor was sitting on the king-sized bed. Looking uncomfortable. “They didn’t have a double, Anya. Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

  “What? Why? You’re… huge.”

  His lips quirked. A smile played at the corner of his full lips. Belatedly, I realized what I had just said. “I mean, you’re tall. And sleeping on the floor is going to be hard if we’re driving a lot still tomorrow.”

  “I’m tough.”

  “I know.”

  “And hard.”

  “I kno—” I broke off, blushing as he grinned. Then I took a deep breath, trying not to look as flustered as I felt. “Viktor, don’t be ridiculous. We can sleep together for one night. We’re adults. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

  I hoped.

  The glint in his eyes made me wonder if he could promise the same. My breath caught in my throat, before coming out in a husky purr. “Unless you want my hands on you.”

  His jaw tightened, the muscles in his neck straining. “You don’t know what you’re staying, printsessa. You’re too innocent to understand.”

  “Don’t tell me I don’t understand and don’t treat me like a child. I’m not a child.�
� But I felt a sudden compulsion to run when he stepped closer to me, his laugh dark.

  “No, Anya, you’re a woman. A very dangerous woman. You think you understand?” He sneered. “What do you understand? Men? Me?”

  “I-I understand that you want me.” I swallowed the lump in my throat, hoping I hadn’t just made a huge fool of myself. It wouldn’t be the first time.

  His nod was little more than a jerk of his chin. “Yes, I want you. I want to rip that silly little outfit off you and see if you taste like hot, sugary tea. But I can’t. I can’t.”

  What was holding him back? I wondered. Professionalism? Fear?

  Viktor reached out and rubbed a lock of my hair between his broad fingers. “You’re like snow, fresh and clean. Innocent.”

  When I licked my lips, his gaze narrowed on my mouth. “Even snow melts, Viktor,” I said in a low voice.

  “You don’t know what you’re asking,” he growled.

  “Then show me. Teach me.”

  He took the last step toward me, his arm going around my waist like a steel cage. My head tilted back to look up at him. “You’re playing with fire, printsessa. I’m not a boy you can flirt with, for fun. I will take you.”

  My insides liquefied at the threat, the promise of his words. I said nothing, only panted softly as I examined the hard lines of his anguished expression.

  Then I groaned as his mouth covered mine. He pressed against me, urging my mouth open and tasting me. Pulled up flush against his body, I gasped at the hardness of his body. “Yes,” I hissed. I wanted more.

  “I should carry you over to that bed,” he whispered against my lips. “I should spread you open like a ripe fig and fuck you until you can’t stand.”

  I shuddered.

  “But I won’t.” He took a step back, a groan escaping him. “We can’t do this. They have plans for you.”

  With that shocking announcement, he disappeared into the bathroom. I stood there, feeling hot and cold and everything in between. Plans for me? In the silence, I thought I could hear my heart thudding, and I startled at the low, indistinct sound of Viktor’s voice.

  He was on the phone. Making plans? Breaking plans? I didn’t know, but I did know that there were limits to my humiliation. I got into bed. The sheets felt cool and crisp against my bare legs.

  When he reappeared, it was as though the previous half hour had been wiped from existence. He gave me a long, searching look, but I didn’t know what he was looking for.

  “What time do we head out tomorrow?” I asked him as he sat down on the edge of the bed to remove his shoes.

  He didn’t answer. He seemed preoccupied by taking off his shoes. Then, instead of answering my small talk, he responded with, “We need to get married.”

  I choked on my own breath. “What?” Was that the plan he was referring to?

  He let out a long, sullen sigh. “What do you know about Boss Petrov?”

  I was feeling whiplash from the changes in the conversation. “Not much, if anything. Only that my uncle promised I would be safe under his protection.”

  “Your uncle Boris?” Viktor demanded.

  “Yes, why?”

  He seemed to search my face for the truth. “Have you heard of Boss Ramone?”

  I shook my head. “No… should I?”

  He tilted his head back and then blew out his breath. “What happened to your parents?”

  “I’m not sure,” I confessed, confused at the turn in conversation. “I’ve never met them. Uncle Boris said that they died shortly after I was born.” He didn’t respond to that, so I asked him, “What did you mean earlier? That we should… get married?”

  “We need to.”

  “Why?” I questioned, getting tired of the non-answers.

  “Your uncle just sold you to Boss Petrov.”

  My mouth fell open. “What?”

  “If you’re lucky, he’ll just rape you and keep you for himself, just to piss off Don Ramone.”

  I was going to throw up.

  Viktor gave me a hard look. “But he might just traffic you.”

  I swallowed hard, nausea battling confusion and anger. “I don’t even know where to start with this. First off, I already told you that I don’t know this Don Ramone, so I doubt that he would care about anything Boss Petrov, or anyone else, does to me. Second of all, my uncle did not sell me. And third, I just… I don’t even know what to say to this. Are you insane?” I feared that I already knew the answer to that question.

  He laughed slowly. “No, I’m not insane. I’m trying to piece this together myself. From what I can gather and from what Boss Petrov told me, you are Ramone’s daughter. Your uncle Boris must’ve sold you to Petrov for something he wanted – money, drugs, whatever. I can’t say for certain what Boss Petrov is going to do to you, but he mentioned sex trafficking and other horrible things. Suffice to say, we don’t want to find that out. So, we need to get married. So, I can protect you.”

  My mind was still racing over everything he said, but it almost made sense. Sort of. Except the part about Ramone…? But still. “I’m not getting married to you.”

  “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.” Viktor pulled back the covers and then started to shuck his clothes. I knew I should look away, but couldn’t.

  Each pull of his arm revealed more skin. He removed his shirt with his right arm, up and over his head. He dropped the shirt onto the floor carelessly, and then started to unbutton his jeans. I felt my skin flush as I saw that he was watching me watch him—with a fair amount of amusement. I looked down and slid further down into the bed.

  I felt the bed dip. His weight on the springs almost made me slide to the middle, but I grasped the side and tried to keep some distance. I didn’t need him thinking I was throwing myself at him—again. Especially now that I knew he was a psycho.

  For thirty minutes I feigned sleep until I felt him slide closer to my body, our skin almost touching. I could feel his warmth through the sheet and the silk pajamas I was wearing. I desired nothing more than to push back against him and feel his hardness press against me, but I knew if I did that, I’d never be able to make it out. And I needed to escape now. I was no longer safe.

  I pushed back the covers and climbed out softly. When I didn’t hear a change in his breathing, I padded to the suitcase, where I grabbed a few key things and the rest of the money I had, and then crept to the door.

  When I saw the contraptions covering up the deadbolts, I swore silently. Clearly Viktor was expecting someone to come in for us during our sleep. I doubted he really expected me to leave while we were sleeping.

  I tiptoed over to the patio door, intending to climb out the balcony. I knew we were four stories up, but I had to take the risk.

  When I unlocked and slid open the patio door, I looked back at him and was satisfied that there was still no movement under the covers. Taking a deep breath, I leaned over the balcony rail. And then gasped. It was certainly four stories up, and it was a lot farther than I had thought it would be in my mind.

  I was judging the best course of action when suddenly I heard a deep voice behind me that stilled me completely.

  “Running?”

  5

  Viktor

  Anya stood just outside the room on the balcony, shivering in her scraps of silk and lace. Her eyes were round and her nipples tight. My body hardened under the blankets in response, my cock pressing against my boxer briefs.

  “You really thought you could just run from me?”

  “You really thought I would just marry you?”

  “I did, actually. I’m told I’m a catch.” I made my tone casual, but the alternatives she was facing were deadly serious. Did she not understand that?

  She glared at me, her shaking hands going to her hips. “I just got to this country, Viktor. I’m not going to give up my freedom that easily.”

  “You little fool, without me you have no freedom.” Tamping down my frustration, I hopped out of bed. I stalked over to her, the hard l
ength of my dick bobbing like a divining rod. She gasped and spun around.

  She froze when my hand went to her hair. But it was all I could stand. If I touched her skin, I knew I would be lost.

  “What?” she asked. Caught between my warmth and the chill of the air, she trembled. “What are you doing?”

  “I’ll make you a deal,” I said, dropping my hand. “I’ll let you go if you can climb over the balcony.”

  She slowly turned to me, indignation printed on her face. “Of course, I can climb over it. My legs aren’t that short, Viktor.”

  I chuckled. “Very well. Go for it.”

  Anya looked past me into the room, then back at the night sky. Then she shrugged and stepped up on the bottom rung of the balcony.

  I stepped closer, crowding her against the rail.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I thought you were climbing?” I kept my voice light and even, but it seemed to throw her off even more. Well, throw off her focus, at least; not throw her off the balcony. I didn’t want to push her that far.

  Looking at the balcony’s construction, we both realized that in order to climb over she’d have to take another step up. With the rail split into two parts and a solid structural panel piece in between, she’d have to spread her legs—wide.

  I waited, rubbing my chin.

  Taking a deep breath, she raised her left foot. Then her right foot, which effectively scissored her legs as though she were doing the splits, although it was in the air on a rail system hanging forty feet in the air.

  She seemed to be contemplating her next move when my hand went to her calf. “Ah!” She swayed; my grip tightened. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Helping you,” I said, my lips almost brushing against her the soft skin of her ear.

  She loosened her hold on the rail long enough to swat at me. “I don’t need that kind of help!”

  I ignored her as she hoisted herself up more. Only one rung to go before she’d be at the highest level of the rail. My teeth clenched together at the thought of her splattered on the concrete below.