The car braked suddenly, the back end sliding around in a perfect U. They ended up going the opposite way they’d been driving. Sevastyan glanced out his window to see Ania threading a narrow proverbial needle between the Porsche and an SUV as those two vehicles tried to brake. She sped up and headed toward a cross street that would bring her to another road back to their original destination where Sevastyan’s men had set up an ambush.
“Nice move, Ania.” Sevastyan would never get over her driving abilities.
Mitya was insane not to use her capabilities. She loved driving and she had mad skills. Most of the time she traveled with her husband. He wanted her in the back seat so he could have sex with her. Not that Sevastyan blamed him now that he had Flambé and knew what it was to have his own woman close.
The way his rage had manifested itself into sexual needs had always been a problem and he knew it always would be. The older he had gotten, the harder his body drove him. He practiced disciplined arts to help, but eventually, he was driven to go to the club in spite of the dangers of his leopard. He was always very, very careful. There were many couples there, men who enjoyed watching their woman tied and taken—their women willing to be tied and taken. That was always his number one rule. She had to be willing. He always made certain. He asked her himself away from her partner. Checked her pulse to make certain there was no coercion.
His ropes were easy to remove, and the partner knew how and there were always scissors to cut the woman loose right there. Cain was in his office or on the premises watching if there was a problem once Sevastyan walked away. That way, Shturm had no chance of escaping, no chance of harming the woman, not even at Sevastyan’s most vulnerable moment. He was always very, very careful. He never faced the woman. Never kissed her. Never did anything that would set the leopard off. It was never the most satisfying sexual experience, but it got the job done.
Until Flambé. Sevastyan stroked a caress through her hair, wishing they were home and he could talk to her. He wasn’t used to doing anything but giving orders. He had the feeling that wasn’t going to work in this case.
Ania, in the driver’s seat, let out a string of unladylike words. “Clever bastards. They considered we might use this road. Apparently, you have before.”
Sevastyan could see that two cars were blocking the street just ahead. Ania only had seconds to make a decision on what to do. Already the Porsche and SUV were coming in behind her. Flambé’s breath exploded out of her lungs, but other than that, she made no sound. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder.
Ania spun the car and raced back straight at the Porsche as if playing chicken. Flambé put her hands over her eyes. Sevastyan stared calmly out the front windshield. There was no way whoever was driving that vehicle would be willing to go back to Franco and tell him that they had killed Flambé. Matherson made it clear he wanted her alive.
“I’m so sorry I brought him into your lives,” Flambé whispered. “He isn’t going to stop.”
“No, he won’t. Even if he managed to get his hands on you, baby, he’d still go hunting other leopards. He likes it or he wouldn’t be doing it. There’s no reason to kill other leopards. None at all. There’s something very wrong with him. His lair should have taken care of it a long time ago.”
Sevastyan tried to comfort her even as he watched the driver of the Porsche desperately pull his vehicle hard to the right while his passenger threw his arm up as if that would save him if the two cars collided at the high rate of speed Ania was traveling. Ania’s car sped on past and raced around the bend, back up the slight hill toward the freeway.
“What do you want to do, Sevastyan? Call it off or go to the cul-de-sac by Evangeline’s home one more time?”
“Try the lane. Prune Lane. That’s where the boys have set up. If our company doesn’t follow, we’ll head into the city. Mitya’s pretty pissed, but apparently he was following us anyway.”
Ania laughed. “I’m not surprised.”
Nothing seemed to phase his cousin’s wife. His own wife was going to think twice before she crossed him, especially in matters of her safety. He glanced down at the top of her silky head. She wasn’t saying much, but she kept looking behind them, watching to see if they were being followed.
“We want them to come after us,” he said gently.
“We do?” There was trepidation in her voice. “Sevastyan, there were two men in the Porsche. I saw three in the SUV. I couldn’t see into the other two cars, but you have to figure at least two men in each. So, at least nine men, maybe more. Even with Kirill, Matvei and the two others I don’t know, we’re outnumbered. And what are we going to do with them anyway? Ania’s a good driver. A great driver. She can get us out of here. We’ll lose them and go back to the house. I can call Brent and tell him I have to reschedule. He’ll understand. It will be Cain who might be a problem, but I can handle him.”
Sevastyan’s eyes met Ania’s in the rearview mirror just for a moment. He flicked his gaze toward the right, away from the freeway and back toward Prune Lane.
“Cain? Why would he be a problem?” His hand settled around Flambé’s nape to begin a slow massage, attempting to ease the tension out of her.
“The plants are for his club, his garden of paradise. They’re exotics and we’ve been waiting for some time for them to come in. It hasn’t been easy to get them. I have to have an open time to go to the club when no one is there. He doesn’t shut down that often. Coordinating our schedules isn’t that easy, but this situation is ridiculous.”
“Tell me about his garden. The garden started fairly small although the room itself is huge.” He kept her talking to distract her, although he genuinely wanted to know.
“He wanted the garden to be really large but still allow everyone to see into the rooms on either side of it. I had to design the plants and trees to grow so that could be done. In keeping with his themes, I incorporate his apparatuses as much as possible for the plants to grow on. That lets me prune them back and tie them so they grow the way I need them to. I just had a smaller version of a wooden X brought in to plant some of the exotics to grow up and over. It should be quite lovely.”
Her voice held both intimate and enthusiastic notes when she spoke of her plants and the garden. It was a huge undertaking and very private between her and Cain, the owner of the club. For the first time in his life, Sevastyan felt the stirrings of jealousy and it was an ugly, demeaning emotion. He didn’t like to picture her in Cain’s office, close to him, leaning over the man’s desk, both poring over the papers she had drawn out, that sensual, intimate note in her voice as she talked about her plants and ideas and how to incorporate his various sexual apparatuses. He didn’t want Flambé talking to Cain about anything sexual, let alone an apparatus.
“Did Cain ever offer to show you how those apparatuses work?”
“Yes, but I declined. I wasn’t interested in anything but rope. That was beautiful and sensual.”
“Did he offer to tie you? He is a rigger. A very good one and a master in suspension.” They were coming up on Prune Lane. Ania had slowed the car as if she suspected another ambush.
Just the thought of Cain tying Flambé and suspending her in an erotic pose made him want to rip out Cain’s heart. He had never been that kind of man. He wasn’t jealous. He wasn’t possessive. He certainly didn’t care what other man a woman wanted after he tied her in a pose. If she wanted fifty other men, she was welcome to them. Not Flambé. She was his alone and hopefully he had made that very, very clear to her.
She nodded. “He did. By that time, I think I already was obsessed with you. I didn’t tell him because I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.”
“Cain has many women to choose from, malen’koye plamya. You have no need to feel guilty or that you may have hurt his feelings. He owns a club and he’s very good at what he does. Women flock to him.”
He risked a quick glance at th
e setup. Everyone was in place. Once again, his eyes met Ania’s in the mirror and the car began to move forward with more confidence. Behind them the SUV pulled close, the Porsche behind it. The other two vehicles were nowhere in sight, which meant they’d taken the bait and rushed around to cut them off using the alleyway. His body stirred the way it always did in times of danger. He craved the rush. He needed it.
He caught Flambé’s chin and tipped her face up to his to take possession of her mouth. He loved her mouth. It was a hot haven of promised sin. She looked like an angel and kissed like she was Satan’s accomplice. Whiskey couldn’t burn that hot down his throat. Nothing could. She poured herself into him without reservation, without hesitation. He knew if he unbuttoned that prim little blouse she wore and put his mouth to her breast she would cradle his head to her and offer more.
Flambé tasted like hot cinnamon spiced with just the lightest hint of Moroccan rose and Egyptian jasmine. The moment he tasted that on his tongue, he wanted to rip off her panties, press his mouth between her legs and devour her to get at her unique flavor. He had to stop. He’d gone too long without her and he couldn’t start anything, not until this was over.
He had to send Franco Matherson a message. One very loud and clear. One that said not to fuck with him because the man would die if he did. Flambé was off-limits. She was safe and secure and never to be touched, frightened or intimidated again. It didn’t matter how much money the shifter had, he wasn’t going to win and he would never be safe. Sevastyan could get to him.
He lifted his head to push his forehead against hers, looking into her eyes. “I want you to stay in this car with Ania. Keep your head down and the doors locked. Don’t you dare defy me on this, Flambé. This is my business.” He kissed her forehead and then pushed her down on the seat. “Lock the doors after me, Ania.”
“You got it.” He waited until she allowed the SUV to trap her between the other two cars suddenly rushing at them from out of the alley and she brought their car to a complete stop. He opened the door and was out, rolling away from the car to draw fire away from the women and signal to his men they had open season on Franco’s men.
He came to his feet as his men opened covering fire and strode purposefully right up to the passenger side of the Porsche while they were still staring in triumph at the trapped car with Flambé in it. He yanked open the door, put a gun to the passenger’s head and pulled the trigger. He shot the driver twice between the eyes as the man turned toward him in a kind of dazed shock. Then he sprinted toward the SUV.
Two more vehicles tore onto the lane, trapping the SUV. Sevastyan barely glanced at the cars, not in the least surprised that Mitya would follow his wife. His own men had already sprung the trap and enclosed the other vehicles Franco had sent, exchanging gunfire but killing the occupants fairly quickly.
Sevastyan came up to the side of the SUV, but Zakhar was there first, giving him a look that said to back off. He smashed the rear window with a tool several times, ducking low as a barrage of bullets met the glass shattering inward. Tossing the tool to Sevastyan, Zakhar waited for Sevastyan to hit the back-passenger window and then duck before he threw the homemade bomb into the vehicle. Tackling Sevastyan, they both hit the ground hard as the SUV was lifted high, rocked and then set back onto the ground, flames coming out from under the doors and through blown-out windows.
“You fucking asshole,” Mitya greeted as Sevastyan climbed to his feet. He looked his cousin over carefully. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, no worries. Thanks, Zakhar. We’ve got to get these bodies out of here.”
“Cleaners are already here. Drivers will move the cars. We have an enclosed one for the SUV. Get out of here.” Zakhar’s voice was clipped.
Kirill and Matvei escorted Sevastyan back to the car with Mitya and his bodyguards striding right along with him.
Mitya knocked loudly on the driver’s door and all but yanked his wife from the car. He continued glaring at Sevastyan.
“Did you think I wouldn’t know you were up to something?”
“I wasn’t up to anything,” Sevastyan denied. “I was taking Flambé to see her supplier. Ania said she’d drive me. There was a five percent chance that something might go wrong. I told you that ahead of time.”
“When did you tell me that?”
“The other night. Do you ever listen to one damn thing I say to you? Maybe because Franco Matherson isn’t after your woman you don’t have to worry about him, but I did make it very clear that asshole was after mine. I also mentioned he was pissed as hell at me.”
“Because you challenged him deliberately, Sevastyan,” Mitya pointed out. “You thrive on confrontation.”
“That’s most likely true. Right now, I promised my woman that I would get her to her meeting on time.” He also had the hard-on from hell. “You can give your woman a lecture, one of your two billion that will never do any good, and I’ll take mine and go.”
Sevastyan was already signaling to Kirill to take the driver’s seat. He wanted only one other in the car, someone he trusted. He slid into the back seat, keeping his hand on Flambé’s shoulder, keeping her down, trying to prevent her from looking too closely at what was happening around them. It resembled a war zone and the mop-up was going too smoothly, too efficiently.
“Are you going to tell me what just happened?” she asked.
“No. Right at the moment, I have other much more urgent things on my mind.” He pushed the button for the privacy screen the moment the car started up.
“Strip, Flambé. Everything. Hurry, baby, we don’t have much time.” His hands dropped to his trousers, easing them open and pushing them off his hips while he watched her take her blouse and bra off. She had generous breasts. Her nipples were strawberry red. They stood out against her pale skin. She kicked off her sandals and hooked her thumbs in her thong and the soft feminine pants she wore, sliding them down her legs to pull them off.
Sevastyan caught her hair in one fist, tilted her head back and took possession of her mouth. The moment he did the fire flared hot and wild between them. He ran one hand from her throat, down the valley between her breasts to the tight red curls, finding liquid heat at her entrance. He pushed two fingers into her and used his thumb to circle and tease her clit while he kissed her over and over until neither could breathe adequately.
“Ride my fingers, baby,” he said. “That’s right. Just like that.” He used his free hand to tug her left nipple. She was very responsive. He dragged his fingers free before she could get off and brought them to her mouth. “Open.” When she did, he pushed his fingers in and watched her suck them clean. The sight sent his cock into a frenzy of need.
He caught her breasts in his hands and guided them between his legs. “I need that mouth of yours busy, Flambé. Woke up this morning and had a vision of the way I wanted to tie you and then take your mouth. Hard to get that image out of my head.”
His large hand slid into the silk of her hair and closed around it, making a tight fist at the back of her head. He brought her face right to his lap. “We don’t have a lot of time before we get to your meeting and we’re not getting out of this car until you swallow down every drop I’ve been storing up all day for you, so I suggest you get busy.”
Her hands immediately began stroking his sac, followed by her tongue lapping and caressing. She traced her way up to the base of his cock while her fingers jiggled and teased his balls. Her tongue glided up his shaft and curled around it, getting him wetter and wetter, but she didn’t touch the sensitive crown, prolonging his agony. He crushed the bright red hair in his hands, pulling at her scalp. She teased under the broad head with her tongue, sending fire racing down his spine.
Sevastyan shifted on the seat so that he was above her and could angle her head over his cock, forcing her mouth exactly where he needed it to be. He caught one quick glimpse of her eyes and everything in him went still. Ju
st froze.
His body burned like hell. That terrible, savage rage that manifested itself in sexual urgency had him in its grip, and normally, he would have done whatever he needed to do to rid himself of the buildup that never seemed to go away. His cat’s edgy needs seemed to feed his own and it took a great deal of discipline to pull back, to loosen his grip in her hair and breathe through the voracious hunger eating him alive. More than anything he wanted her mouth on his cock, but he couldn’t get past that one little shadow he caught. One small shadow.
“Fuck.” He spat the word, closed his eyes and breathed some more. What was it about this one woman that made him so crazy? She was more than willing to take care of his needs.
Her body was flushed a soft pink, almost red. Her nipples were standing out, totally erect, twin temptations, staring at him. He could scent her particular fragrance calling to him, the one he craved, the one that made him want to throw her onto the back seat and devour her. That had been his intention all along, to make her think he was going to selfishly have her take care of his needs, but then, at the last minute, ensure she got off as well. He wanted to see what she would do. He should have known.
Sevastyan was going to have to be very, very careful in his handling of his strawberry leopard or she wouldn’t be happy for long. She might be naturally submissive in the bedroom and he might be naturally dominant. She liked Shibari and to be tied. She liked to be told what to do and pushed to do things she wouldn’t think of doing on her own, but he had to always take care of her. He had to always see to her pleasure, make certain that if she gave him anything special, he reciprocated tenfold.
He was never going to be easy to live with. He knew that. He had to make it worth staying with him. She wasn’t a woman who would care about money. He had to take care of her. Sexually, they were a good match. Right now, to keep him from confronting her, she was willing to use sex and he wanted to oblige her. His cock raged at him. Raged.
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