Isobel shook her head slightly. “Yep. No way is any of this really happening. I’m going to need to make stronger coffee. This isn’t doing the trick.”
“I’ve got something that will get your motor running,” said Bill. “It’s in my bag. Don’t take too much or you won’t sleep for a week. Primo shit, man.”
Isobel snorted.
“Go in the house,” said Jackass to Bill. “I’ll be there in a minute to help get you situated.”
Liberty grunted at the man, unable to hide her annoyance. “I saw your version of helping. It left a lot to be desired.”
His gaze trailed over her unhurriedly, and she found herself thinking again about the man who had made her feel safe as a child. That was silly. He couldn’t be one and the same because he wasn’t old enough. That man would easily be twenty years older than this one.
“I will see to it he’s cared for—properly,” he said, his voice assertive yet even-toned.
“Gus says Russia is gonna make sure we’re fine. He’s gonna do the same for you too,” said Bill.
“Jackass doesn’t need—” said Liberty, before thinking better of it. “I mean your son. Not Jackass. And he doesn’t need to worry about me. I’m fine. I’m worried about you.”
“Jackass fits him perfectly, but his name is Rurik,” said Bill. “And Gus says that he understands that you’re frustrated with Russia there, but that it’s important you trust your gut when it comes to him.”
Liberty slid a sideways look at Isobel, wondering if she’d heard Gus say anything. Liberty hadn’t heard the man utter a single word.
Isobel stood there drinking from the pot of coffee like this was just any old day and nothing was out of the ordinary. It was easy to see she still wasn’t sure she was awake.
“Bill, do you hear voices in your head?” asked Daisy, worry on her face.
Bill glanced in her direction. “Well, yeah. I just told ya what Gus said, and he mostly talks in my head.”
Daisy nodded. “I see. And what does he mostly say?”
With a shrug, Bill took his blue jacket off. “Loads of stuff.”
“Does he ever tell you to harm yourself or others?” asked Daisy.
Bill scratched his chin. “Sometimes he tells me to hurt others. But I think of hurting others on my own. He ain’t needed for that. Most times I have a bag of really primo weapons with me. I’m always itching to use them. Got me a rocket launcher that is sweet. Once I used it to shoot me a monster that had like fifty eyes at a titty bar, erm, excuse me—establishment where tops are optional. Man, did that monster ever blow! It was awesome. Almost bagged me an evil gargoyle with the launcher once too but fuck if Thor didn’t steal my thunder. Dickwad.”
Liberty did her best to wrap her mind around everything the small man was spewing forth. She was fairly certain she’d heard the words “gargoyle” and “monster,” as well as a mention of a Norse god, but she wasn’t about to ask for clarification.
Bill stared at Daisy as he continued. “The special ops dicks keep taking the good stuff from me. Sure, nearly blow up one vampire and set a shifter’s hair on fire and suddenly you’re persona non grata. Total bull if you ask me. I mean, would the world really miss one more bloodsucker? And it wasn’t like that shifter didn’t have long-ass girlie hair to start with. He needed a haircut. I like to think I helped facilitate that. But do I get a thank you? No. Ungrateful pricks.”
Liberty stood there, soaking in everything he’d said. She glanced at her friends. Was it just a coincidence that Bill was ranting about supernaturals with everything they’d been learning about their past, or was there more to the story? While she understood it was possible to be more than human, even she had a hard time believing vampires and shifters were real.
Bill looked at Gus. No words were exchanged. He centered his attention on Liberty. “He wants to know if you would like to wear my jacket or his since your shirt is all wet. I should have offered sooner. I’m a gentleman after all. And I’m real sorry about calling that titty bar a titty bar. I’m surrounded by ladies.”
It was then she glanced down.
Yep.
Her shirt was soaked.
Her mind had been so focused on Bill’s well-being that she hadn’t thought of anything else, like how she didn’t have on makeup and how everyone could see her scars. Oddly enough, she felt more naked knowing her scars were visible than by the fact her shirt was wet and suctioned to her breasts.
She tipped her head and pulled her hair forward more, trying to hide that side of her face. “I’m fine. Thank you for the offer. We should leave you all be now, so long as Rurik knows we’ll be watching. He’d better not hurt you again.”
Bill snickered. “Hear that? She’ll be watching you. Turn-on, huh? You might not even need a girlie mag now if you’re thinking about Liberty Bell.”
She stared at Bill, wondering if he was off his meds. If he wasn’t on any, he maybe should be.
He blushed. “What? The commie there is raring to go. I hope for your sake he lightens up when he’s having sex. Seems the type to keep his socks on. B-o-r-i-n-g.”
“I’m not going to have sex with him,” said Liberty, swallowing hard, unsettled because her words lacked conviction. She did her best to keep from looking at the man in question. Why on earth did she want him sexually? She’d come over to give him a piece of her mind, not think about jumping his bones.
Bill faced Gus once more. Nothing was said between them. “Gus says I gotta behave and get cleaned up. And he says I have to listen to the damn commie. I’m still a little pissed that the jackass hog-tied me and put a ball gag in my mouth, but if Gus says I gotta listen, then I guess I gotta listen. But I want it noted that I saved that Red Army prick from kinky sex with a vampire. Had I known he was into ball gags, I’d have left him to fend for himself with Frenchie.”
Liberty stopped trying to avoid eye contact with Rurik and opted for glaring at him. “It’s not enough that you hosed a poor innocent man down, and then made him fall, you tied him up and gagged him too?”
Bill leaned and let out a loud whistle. “Well, now you’ve gone and done it, Commie. You’re about to get a whole lot of American Liberty in your face.”
Chapter Eleven
Rurik did his best to land on something close to rational thought, but everything except the urge to make contact with the young woman before him was gone. He knew the optics of the situation she’d barged in on were bad. That in her eyes, he was a dick, but that didn’t stop him from wanting her.
The very hand he’d been doing stretches with minutes prior flexed, his fingers reaching in her direction, as if they too were struggling with the need to be near the woman.
He wasn’t sure which house she’d originated from, or how long she’d been watching the events unfolding with Bill, but it was clear she wasn’t pleased with him. Even scowling she was stunning. Her long hair, which if he had to guess was light to medium brown when dry, was plastered to the side of her face, partially obscuring his view of her. Her huge chocolate-brown eyes seemed to soak in everything at once, all while making him think about what it would be like to look down at them from above.
As thoughts of being horizontal with her flooded his mind, an uncomfortable tightening in his jeans demanded his attention. Try as he might, Rurik couldn’t recall the last time he’d been turned on so intensely, or at all for that matter.
I’m not broken after all.
Without thought, Rurik reached down and adjusted himself.
Liberty’s gaze snapped to the act.
Bill laughed. “Yeah, he’s not gonna need to borrow any of my girlie mags.”
Rurik cocked his head in a way that left him staring directly at Bill.
The little man had the nerve to wink.
Rurik growled.
Bill stuck out his tongue.
Rurik groaned.
Flashing a wide smile, Bill tugged at the fake beard he was wearing, wringing it out as he did. Water dripped freely down
the front of him, reminding Rurik that Liberty had walked in on him hosing down Bill.
As more water dripped from Bill’s beard, Rurik swallowed his pride. “I am sorry I took a hose to you.”
Bill blinked several times and made a dramatic showing of sticking his pinkies in his ears to clean them. “Come again?”
Rurik growled again. “Sorry.”
“Didn’t know you had it in you,” said Bill, taking hold of the lapels of his jacket and puffing his chest proudly. “That’s my boy. A chip off the old block. An apple that didn’t fall far from the Iron Curtain.”
“You can be quiet now,” said Rurik.
Bill grinned. “I could, or—”
“Bill,” said Liberty, her voice sliding over Rurik like silk. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Healthy as a horse,” he replied before tugging at the fake beard once more. “I know a guy who can turn into a horse. Bet he’s hung. Should have asked him to change in front of me so I could verify.”
Liberty’s face reddened before her gaze slid to Rurik’s groin. She nodded slightly and then stopped as if catching herself.
As Rurik stood rooted in place, his entire body acutely aware of the proximity of Liberty, he knew he more than cared what her opinion of him was. He didn’t just want her to like him, he needed her to.
His bear stirred, agitated by the notion the beauty standing before him in a wet shirt that was molded to her every curve might only ever see him in a bad light.
Worry began to build in the back of his mind like moss on a rolling stone as he kept staring at her. She’d seemed to come out of nowhere while he’d been in the process of trying to clean Bill. There was a chance Liberty had come from the house across the street.
The very one Rurik had been tasked with watching.
If she had come from there, that would mean she was a person of interest and possibly with The Corporation.
No, he thought, shaking his head somewhat at the idea the goddess before him was working with the enemy.
Her eyes held a mix of curiosity and irritation, but nothing about them or her said she was a foe—that she was in league with the enemy.
If his body’s response to her was any indication of what his instincts were telling him, she could be trusted. And it was all too easy to imagine himself staring down into those very eyes as he drove himself in and out of her.
The idea of it all struck him hard enough to take his breath away. The more he thought about touching her, about what it would feel like to have her beneath him, the more his legs felt as if they were going to give out on him.
“Hey, Red Army,” said Bill, cutting through the moment with the finesse of a chainsaw.
Rurik leveled an annoyed gaze upon him. Did the man have to make everything difficult? Couldn’t he just for once be quiet?
“You’re into her. We can all see that.” Bill lifted a hand, then wiggled his fingers in Liberty’s direction. “Ask her out or something. Think she wants to go stand in a line with you at a zoo to see a bear? Heard your people like lines. Does it take you back to the good old days, you know, when the Soviet Union was a thing? And I think we both know you have a thing for bears. Good times.”
“Do you ever stop?” demanded Rurik.
“Plenty of time for stopping when I’m dead,” said Bill.
“That could be sooner than you think,” warned Rurik, ready to end the man just to shut him up.
“Are you threatening him?” demanded the beauty.
“Yeah, are you? I got me an attack Liberty Bell,” said Bill before he stepped to the side. “She’s fierce.”
Rurik’s lips curved up into a slight smile as he focused on her. “Yes. I see that.”
Bill cleared his throat. “Commie, you need to get your shit together. You’re embarrassing me here. Thought you ops dudes were better with the ladies than this. You’re going to sully my reputation with women. You’re killing the vibe.”
“Ops dudes?” asked Isobel.
Rurik grunted in Bill’s direction. So much for their cover. “Really?”
Gus picked then to begin to pace, reminding Rurik he was still there. Gus went to the SUV passenger-side door, opened it, and grabbed something from within. He shut the door, opened it again, then shut it once more, only to repeat the action two more times.
“Hey, buddy,” said Bill. “It’s closed. It’s fine.”
Gus scurried forward, his head down and his focus on the ground. In one hand he clutched the face mask portion of the helmet with Mona’s head in it and in the other hand, he had the stuffed brown bear that Duke had equipped him with earlier.
He came to a stop near Bill but motioned to Rurik. He then held the bear out to Rurik, much like he had in the therapy room earlier that morning, and wiggled it in the air.
Give it to her, said a deep voice in Rurik’s head, startling him.
It took Rurik a few seconds to realize he was hearing Gus in his head. He quirked a brow in the strange man’s direction. He couldn’t possibly want Rurik to give the stuffed bear to Liberty, could he? The woman wasn’t exactly thrilled with how Rurik had gone about trying to clean Bill. A stuffed bear wouldn’t help matters any.
Bill pulled at his cheeks, groaning as he did. “Commie, listen to him. He knows what he’s talking about.”
“Listen to who?” asked Daisy. “Are the voices in your head again, Bill?”
“Yeah. They’re in his head too,” said Bill, thumbing at Rurik before he grinned. “Runs in the family.”
Hoping to shut Bill up, Rurik took a few steps toward Gus and snatched the bear from his hand, harder than he meant to.
“Rude,” said Liberty, suddenly before him, close enough to touch. Her fingers skimmed his as she reached for the bear.
Heat flared through Rurik, shooting directly to his groin.
His breath caught.
Hers did as well, her gaze snapping to his mouth. Her long wet hair partially obscured his view of her face and covered the side of her mouth. He was tempted to move the hair out of the way, just to see her better.
He held back.
Her fingers eased over his as they both held the bear down at his side. The aggression lessened in her chocolate-brown eyes. “Give it back…to him.”
“Don’t sweat it, Liberty Bell,” said Bill. “It’s Rurik’s birthday present from Duke. Not sure why and I didn’t ask. Duke just told us to give it to him. Some things you don’t want to know. Like why two grown-ass men are giving each other stuffed animals under the cover of darkness.”
“Oh,” she whispered, staying close to him, her fingers still skimming his. “It’s your birthday?”
“Yes,” he said. He knew he was staring but couldn’t seem to stop himself. It was all he could do to remain upright.
What was that smell?
Cinnamon? Nutmeg? Vanilla?
All of the above?
Was it coming from her?
His mind was such a jumbled mess, he couldn’t for the life of him place the smell, yet he knew it was familiar to him.
He took in the sight of her, memorizing the curve of her hips, the shape of her breasts, how erect her nipples were in the wet T-shirt, and how she had the slightest of trembles to her lower lip. Was it from anger or was she cold?
His gaze returned to the diamond-like points on her breasts.
Cold, he thought, a second before his internal voice became an external one. “Happy birthday to me.”
At some point, Bill had gotten closer and was staring back and forth between them. “Kiss her for crying out loud, Kremlin.”
“Libs?” asked Daisy. “Are you okay?”
Liberty didn’t budge. She met Rurik’s gaze. “I’m not sure. Am I?”
“You are,” he said, wanting to kiss her like Bill had suggested.
Chapter Twelve
Liberty stared up at Rurik, feeling as if her feet were encased in concrete, keeping her stuck in place. She knew her fingers were caressing his but for the life of
her, she couldn’t seem to stop. Touching him felt right.
More than right even.
Weirdly, his fingers began to do the same until he wrapped one around two of hers, pinning her hand to the stuffed animal he still managed to palm during it all.
Just how big were his hands?
A shiver raced down her spine at the thought of what else he might be able to do with those hands.
“Liberty?” asked Isobel. “Is my dream about to become X-rated?”
“Once again,” said Daisy with a long, dramatic sigh, “you’re not dreaming, Isobel.”
“Then Liberty is about to do it with the hot Russian?” questioned Isobel, sounding somewhat impressed.
Liberty shook her head no but a weak “yes” fell free of her lips.
Rurik licked his lower lip and nodded. “What she said.”
“Yep, this is so going the way of X-rated,” said Isobel. “I feel like I should look away, but I can’t.”
Liberty felt the same way, but for a different reason. Like she should avert her gaze from the man’s or risk losing herself in him. She’d been prepared for confrontation when she’d rushed over from her house to stop whatever had been going on with Bill. No amount of prep work could have gotten her ready for this—for wanting to press herself to a virtual stranger.
Rurik dipped his head and took a deep breath in.
It was all Liberty could do to keep from puckering her lips. She wanted to be kissed by him, but with her current state of mind and lack of thinking, his lips on hers was a bad idea.
Still, his mouth seemed to get closer, tempting her to give in and take what she wanted.
“You smell like a…” His voice trailed off, the thought unfinished.
“Like a wet dog?” she asked, a nervous laugh coming from her as the reality of just how ridiculous she was being trickled through the fog of hormonal soup that had become her brain.
“A dog?” he questioned. “No. You smell like cinnamon.”
“I do?” That was a new one. Never before had anyone told her that.
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