by India Kells
The seat shifted, and she knew Aleksei always had an eye on her, always wondering. The man was a mass of contradictions, and everything she didn’t want. In her new life, she had lovers, even men she considered boyfriends. They were nice, reliable, funny. Why couldn’t she grow a strong attachment to any of them?
Deva knew why, and it was because of her own darkness. These good, decent men, how could they understand her? It was impossible to change her past, to erase the links to the underworld completely. And that answered her question quite clearly. No white picket fences for her. Not in this lifetime as forever she would have a dark fog of danger swirling around her, tainting the people who would touch her. However, there was one thing she knew. She wouldn’t go back to her old life, even if her father stopped being a threat. Aleksei was Bratva, and his choice would never make him hers.
A large hand wrapped around one of hers, squeezing gently. The Russian was everything she had fought against, and yet, she squeezed his hand back. It was incomprehensible why she trusted him. He was a cage fighter, a mobster, dangerous, volatile... and dependable, reliable, caring, sexy. A knight in the darkest armor she could find, one with jagged edges and ink. She would have him until it was all over. Deva would repay her debt to Beatrice, and if all went as she hoped, maybe she could help Aleksei too. Because she could lie to herself, paying her debt to her friend wasn’t the only reason she was continuing this mission anymore.
“Deva?”
Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes as the car came to a stop. She blinked several times and saw that they were in front of The Drake Hotel. As they stopped, Aleksei gently took the gun from her lap and put it under the seat in front of him.
“Why are we here?”
Aleksei’s face softened a hint of a smirk on his face. “You were really out of it, weren’t you? My uncle has a room here. It’s the safest place for the time being. I don’t want to go back to my condo and Lance’s apartment may not be safe enough.”
When she hesitated, he cupped her cheek and made her face him.
“What? Talk to me, Deva.”
“I’m repeating myself, but I think it’s a bad idea to involve the Bratva anymore than it already is. Not until we know the hold Finch has on them.”
Hector turned from the driver’s seat. “I’m about to get a ticket any minute now, but what the hell, let’s have a chat, my friends! I would agree with you, Deva, but Aleksei told me the room isn’t Bratva. I have a couple of other hideouts, but it would involve my own people. Something is fishy, but I can’t think about it now. I need to take care of Mex and his men before they start a carnage of their own. And my boss is waiting for me. I’ll try to find more information, but I don’t have any idea what the result of all of this will be. Or what will be required of me. I say you have a 24-hour buffer, tops before Hell floods us with shit.”
Deva rolled her eyes at his words and the Puerto Rican smirked. “You simply have the wrong images in your head, Hector.”
“Yep, that’s me. I’ll try to dig a little more. But I suggest you call those people who helped you, and that friendly blond giant to help you dig fast. Not that I’m against what you did to Mex, but it will come with consequences, even if it was his daughter who pulled the trigger.” Hector’s gaze flicked to Aleksei, and both men nodded before it settled on Deva again. “Take care, Deva.”
Deva nodded and touched his arm. “Thank you, Hector. Be careful, okay?”
The man winked at her, and as soon as she and Aleksei got out the car, he was on his way.
She had never been inside The Drake before. Definitely not MC-style digs. It looked like the dark castle from some gothic tale. It was beautiful and posh. Very posh. When she glanced down at her jeans and blouse, Deva realized she was far from the appropriate dress code required to even cross the threshold, but Aleksei didn’t seem to care. One warm hand in the small of her back, he led her to the top of the stairs and into the lobby that glistened like a jewel box. Crystal chandeliers sparkled, and the sweet scent of immense fresh flower arrangements all around made her feel as of she needed much more satin and tulle.
Aleksei didn’t even get as far as the reception area, the concierge seemed to recognize him on sight and called them over. The man was well into his fifties, sharp and polished, the perfect look required to work in that sort of place, Deva guessed.
“Mr. Voronov, welcome back to The Drake.”
He took the man’s hand and smiled. “Thank you, Trent. This is Miss Landry. She’ll be staying with me.”
The man turned to her and bowed slightly. “Welcome to The Drake, Miss. If you need anything, I’m entirely at your service.”
Deva blinked before forcing herself to smile. She was so out of her element, it was almost comical. “Thank you.”
“Your usual suite is ready for you. Do you need help with your luggage?”
Aleksei almost shrugged. “It was a spur of the moment thing; would you be able to get us some clothing?”
Unfazed, the man nodded. “Of course, Mr. Voronov. Let me know what you require, and I’ll find what you need. Let me escort you to your room.”
“No need, Trent. I’ll text you a list of items in a minute.”
“Perfect, Sir. Miss.”
And just like that, without signing anything, or giving any sort of credit card number, she was whisked into an elevator. Aleksei obviously knew his way around, and they soon were inside what Deva had exactly imagined a suite would look like. They entered a vast living room with high windows offering a stunning view of Chicago. With creamy carpet and a plush dark brown sofa, the area was designed for lounging. On the right side, two opened French doors were leading to a white king-size bed.
“The bathroom is through the room. Why don’t you go and take a bath, soak for a while, while I ask Trent to get us some clothes? Are you hungry? Would you like to eat something?”
Her body felt like lead, and she couldn’t come up with an intelligent answer. Aleksei frowned and gently pulled her to him and pressed his cheek to her forehead. The same way she remembered her mother doing when she was a child. The same as she had done to him not so long ago. The tenderness of it mixed with her memories filled her eyes with tears.
“You’re a bit hot but not feverish.” And when he pulled away to look down at her, his eyes widened. “Deva? What’s wrong?” And before she could even reply, she was back again in his arms, a fierce hug, surrounded, engulfed by him. Her nose buried in his chest, she inhaled deeply. Damn, she didn’t want to, but even his scent grounded her. She was in deep trouble. But right this minute, it didn’t matter if she had to suffer the torments of hell later on. She needed him more than she needed to see the next sunrise.
Circling his torso, she rested her palms on his muscled back, relishing the contact. Aleksei banded one arm around her waist and the other he fisted in her hair, his nose buried in the crook of her neck. For a long moment, the only sound she heard was their breathing and the soft whooshing sound of his heart.
So very slowly, his hold relaxed, and he stepped back. His touch was so caring when he caressed her cheek and replaced a few strands of wild, curly hair behind her ear. From the first moment she had met him, he had been cocky, sarcastic, rude. But this side of him, was dangerous to her resolve, and she could easily waiver.
“Go take a bath, Deva. Relax. Let me take care of the rest.”
Was it uncertainty she saw in his eyes? He turned away so quickly, Deva wasn’t sure what she had seen.
Chapter 22
Deva had soaked for so long in the incredibly hot bath, she was certain even her internal organs were pruning. Relaxing in the luxurious bathroom, letting the water slowly cool down was a gift, an opportunity that allowed her to feel more and more like her old self again. Her body wasn’t restless anymore, and her brain was finally starting to get into gear.
One by one, Deva replayed the events of the last few days, what had happened and especially the words that were said. The words of her father
struck her the most. About patience. And God knew her father wasn’t a patient man. What would motivate him to be so patient? And for whom?
And Finch? He talked about being played like a pawn. The man might be a megalomaniac, but he was first and foremost a planner. And he was planning the biggest coup of it all. But what was it?
Something wasn’t panning out. Every mob organization, every syndicate, even the MCs never did anything without a reward at the end. Money, more power, territory. Finch wanted some of those things, she was certain of it.
There was no way any of the syndicates would let go of what they had already acquired. It was a perpetual war between them; an outsider would never be able to have that kind of leverage and power. It was laughable.
A pawn. Patience. Both words whirled in her head. There was the link. There was where she needed to dig.
Shivering, she realized that the bath water was now cold. How long had she been soaking?
Deva used one of the thick towels to rub her skin to warm up and wrapped it around her middle before going into the bedroom. Brushing her hair, she looked around. It was so silent, she wondered what Aleksei had been doing all that time. Her first answer was the piles of neatly folded clothes on the bed. Jeans, t-shirts, blouses, and assorted underwear. And in a corner, a few pairs of shoes. That Trent was an efficient man, and she was even more impressed to see that everything seemed to be to her size.
It was late now, and she opted for a long sleeping gown in a beautiful blush color, made of cotton and lace. Deva wondered if it was Trent’s idea or if Aleksei had suggested it.
The doors of the room were closed, so she opened them slowly. Aleksei was lying on the couch. Even if the piece of furniture looked immense, it appeared small with the Russian sprawled over it. He looked to be sleeping, wearing only pajama pants, his chiseled, inked body on display. It was fascinating to see the symbols on his skin, each of them curving over his muscles. Others seemed alive when he breathed slowly. So peaceful, his beautiful face in need of a shave, his black hair tousled and tempting to the touch. She could have looked at him for hours, undisturbed, but seeing him like that made her fingers itch. Heat pooled between her legs, and she squeezed her thighs together, trying in vain to alleviate the tension.
Even though she was silent, she must have alerted him somehow as he opened his eyes, his mercury gaze on her. She expected to see the come-on look or the sarcastic twist on his mouth. Instead, she saw something deeper, hotter, softer.
“Are you alright? You were awfully long in that bathroom.” He stretched and sat in front of her, his elbows on his knees, rubbing his face.
“Sorry, I should have thought you would like to clean up too.”
He shook his head. “No worries. I commandeered the next room for a quick shower with Trent’s help.”
“Trent is one efficient man.” Deva looked down at herself. “And he has very good taste. It’s really pretty.”
Aleksei stood up and took a few steps in her direction. “You look beautiful. How are you feeling?”
“Better. Thanks. I guess that a cold combined with lack of sleep, being chased, and shooting my father affected me somehow. A little at least.”
Nodding, he turned and pointed at the table by the window. “I ordered food if you are hungry.”
Deva smiled, but instead of going to the table she went to stand toe-to-toe with him. “Thank you. For everything. I’m very sincere and grateful so don’t take my next question the wrong way. But why? Why help me? It cost you whatever investigation you had going on with your father. And now, I can guarantee you that my father will remember your face for the rest of his unnatural life.”
“You helped me too. Without everything that you have done for me, the sleepless nights to get me back on my feet, I would have lost that fight. Maybe worse.”
“You did lose. All the time you invested, why you got close to Finch, whatever it may be, all the pain...”
Aleksei cupped her cheek, his fingers tracing her jaw. “I made a decision, Deva. That’s all.”
Unable to keep it inside, she finally asked the question that was burning her. “Why did you fight? You never told me. You could have found another way to get close to Finch.”
Avoiding her gaze, he only shook his head, never ceasing touching her skin. Deva felt him withdrawing and couldn’t bear it. Instantly, her hand searched his warm skin and her fingers pressed against his sternum.
“I shouldn’t want you. I shouldn’t bring you deeper into this mess.”
Without looking at her, he mimicked her hand, and gently let his hand linger in between her breasts. “I’ve fought most of my life. I don’t know living without being in a mess. And yours is the first mess I like, Deva.”
“Why?”
Ever so slowly, he traced his way back to her face and made her look at him. Mesmerized, she fell into his stormy gaze. His head lowered to hers and only a hair’s breadth away from her lips, he answered her.
“Because you are in it.”
He kissed her, but it wasn’t the hard or possessive connection she had known so far from him. Instead, it was tender, tentative. Aleksei was barely touching her, cupping her cheek reverently. His body towered over hers, and his heat surrounded her, touching every part like a powerful blanket. Deva stilled her hand on him, focusing on the kiss, or more on the way he kissed her. She wanted more, faster and more intense, but his behavior puzzled her. And enthralled her. She had seen firsthand that he could take whatever he needed from her, make her body crave him and submit to him. But this? The way he held back was even more powerful.
Ever so slowly, Aleksei traced her lips with his tongue, and Deva moaned. But when she pressed, opening her lips, pursuing him, he retreated. The hands she had laid on his chest, snaked up, curling around his straining neck, trying to pull him closer. He resisted. Confused, Deva pulled back a little, a clear question in her eyes.
Breathing hard, Aleksei put his forehead against hers, his exhale fanning her skin when he answered. “I think we both need slow, soft...” He hesitated and then she understood. All that had been laid on the table lately, all that she had said about her past, the violence of it. He was offering her something else. Himself. His body, his time, his lust for her to take, but only if she did the same for him. He wanted slow and soft too. Needed it. Aleksei Voronov came from violence and darkness, and he didn’t want that between them. Not now. He craved something else.
Deva nodded. She could offer him and herself that. Peace, connection. Closing her eyes, she took that step and rubbed her cheek against his scruff, peppering his ear and neck with slow kisses. As she hesitantly pressed her body against his, Aleksei ran his fingers through her hair, over and over again. His arousal was undeniable, hard and pushing against his pajama pants, but she ignored it. Her hands on his shoulders, she pushed him down and started tracing every line of ink she saw on his body. He smelled like soap, musk, and heat. His taste was as addictive. Her lips, tongue, and teeth moved, discovering his body, empowered by his deep moans and shivers. When his skin trembled, his muscle quaking under her touch, it fueled her own fire.
Not pushing past the boundary of his pants, she returned back up, nuzzling his abs like a cat. Aleksei kneaded her shoulder but didn’t press, letting her explore his body at her leisure, and when she straightened, he cupped her face and kissed her again. Circling his wrists, Deva gently tugged them down, making her intentions clear. It was his turn. His lips trailed on her cheek until he reached her ear, his tongue swirling amazing patterns and his breath on her damp skin making her shiver.
In a flash, it became clear to her. She wouldn’t survive him. Not this Aleksei. And he hadn’t even moved past her shoulders yet! His hands felt hot and rough when they ran from her collarbone down to her arms, rasping against the thin cotton and lace of her nighty. Letting her head fall back as he trailed kisses down her throat, lapping at her clavicles, running his cheeks against every inch of exposed skin, chafing her, marking her.
&n
bsp; Her eyes followed his descent and when he fell on his knees to the floor, between her legs spread on the couch, his attention solely on her face as if in prayer, her breath caught. His hands circled her ankles and made a maddening slow ascent as he kissed her belly through the thin material and inhaled deeply.
Tense as a bow, Deva fought against rushing and surrendered to his worship, but she wanted more. She wanted all of him, and despite her best intentions, she kneeled in front of him, mimicking his posture on the floor, taking his lips once more, pouring all her conflicting emotions into him, including all the tenderness that was in her heart. Her hand caressed him, but this time, she didn’t want any barrier between them. Pulling her gown over her head, naked before him, her temperature spiked when her breasts plastered against his chest, rubbing. Her hands on his pajama bottom waistband she pushed it down. The sound that came from his chest when she circled his freed erection was one of blissful pain. Pushing forward, Deva made him topple backward on the carpet, and without breaking the kiss, she followed him down, straddling his hips.
Aleksei’s eyes were the darkest gray she had ever seen, his hands cupping her breasts, pinching her nipples. It was her turn to whimper. Damn, she wanted him inside her. And from the way she could feel his hips swaying under her, seeking more friction, she wasn’t the only one with that wish.
Oh, she could accommodate their desire, for a little while at least. Deva widened her stance and rolled her hips, so his cock was nestled between her slick folds. The movement was subtle, but when his hard flesh rubbed against her clit, the sensation was enough to make her shudder and her breath catch.
It took all her might to open her eyes again to look at Aleksei. The man looked fascinated and lost at the same time.
His hands pinched her nipples one more time before following the swell of her hips, squeezing her ass, guiding her movements. Slowly, ever so slowly. Frustratingly, maddeningly slow.