But I would never be too exhausted for my wife.
In fact, as I entered the kitchen to the smells of her perfume and whatever meal she’d cooked for dinner simmering on the stove, I perked right the fuck up—along with my dick—with a sudden burst of renewed energy.
Lexi had been cooking regularly for the past three weeks. Some Russian fare, some American, and some Italian recipes my mom had given her. We were learning each other’s tastes, finding our food niches, through trial and error. It was actually starting to feel like a real marriage.
And I…fucking liked it.
Hey, no one was more surprised than me.
“Legs?” I called out as I shrugged out of my suit jacket.
When she emerged from around the corner, it felt as if my lungs popped like a balloon. I had never seen a more breathtaking, exquisite woman in all my life.
And somehow, I had the good fortune to call her mine.
In black leggings and an oversized burgundy sweater, she looked equal parts cozy and sexy. Her smile when she saw me was instantaneous and lit up her whole face, sending my breath shuddering all over again.
I tossed my jacket on the counter and crooked my finger at her.
As she sauntered toward me, I noticed her smile falter. There were also small bags under her eyes. “You okay?”
She took a moment to answer. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired. Didn’t sleep well last night.”
I lightly placed my hand over her throat, knowing the action always got her dripping wet. She loved it when I turned dominant.
Fingers skimming her jaw, I rasped, “I think that’s an affront to my performance last night, legs. I guess I didn’t wear you out enough.”
I pulled back just enough to see her pupils dilate right before her lids fell shut. “Oh, believe me, you did. I’m still sore.”
I bared my teeth in a smug smile. “Felt me every time you sat down today, did you?”
“Every time I moved at all, Nico. You were relentless.”
A growl rose up my throat. “I’m sorry, who was it that placed those dessert things on her own breasts and told me I could only eat them if I agreed not to use my hands? Because that sure as shit wasn’t me.”
“Is that complaining I hear?”
“Not on your life.”
She giggled. “Those desserts are called pryanik, and now I know they bring out the animal in you.”
I bucked my erection against her. “You bring out the animal in me. Mess with the bull, you’ll get the horns.”
She wiggled her pussy right over my hard ridge. “I’m only interested in one horn.”
I took her mouth in a wild, breathless kiss that had us both groaning. I couldn’t listen to her sensual voice for one more second without taking a hit of the opium that was her addictive flavor. I wanted her playful tongue dancing with mine. Wanted to feel the shiver run down her spine when I sucked on it—like that.
“You’re too skilled with that mouth, Mr. Rossetti,” she breathed against my lips that were left wet from hers.
“No such thing. That’s like saying someone is too good of a cook or too talented of an athlete.”
“But I can’t think when you use it like that.”
“Then you’re in luck. Because what I have in mind for you doesn’t require any thinking.”
She huffed. “You’d think after the past three weeks, even you and your Hulk cock would need a break.”
Backing her up against the cabinets, I planted my hands on the countertop and grinded against her. “I appreciate the Hulk comparison, but he’s more like a shark. He never sleeps. And is that complaining I hear?”
She moaned at our friction. “Not on your life, pretty boy.”
I had her hauled up on the counter with her legs spread wide for me in point two seconds. I yanked her leggings down with a vicious tug, the sound of ripping material echoing around the kitchen.
“You prepared to back up all that sass?”
With glazed eyes, she bit her lip in challenge. “You prepared to put my pussy where your mouth is?”
As if she even had to ask.
My upper lip curled. “I’m always prepared for that.”
I bent my head over her splayed thighs and shoved her sweater up to her waist. Tearing her underwear clean off her body, I lashed her slit with the flat of my tongue, sending her back bowing and hips arching for more. I lapped her up with a single-minded focus, having become obsessed with the feeling of her coming on my tongue. The fact that my mouth could cause her to lose all semblance of control had made me greedy for it all hours of the goddamn day. I constantly craved to drain her of her need for me.
I never wanted her to forget who licked her so good. Whose tongue lashing came with a one hundred percent guaranteed orgasm.
Every. Damn. Time.
Only I affected her like this. Just as she did with me. And I wanted that knowledge at the forefront of her mind from the time she woke up every day to the time she went to bed.
Just like it was mine.
She came on my tongue with an uninhibited scream as her thighs quaked around my head. By the time I had her cleaned up and primed for more, she had my pants open and my cock out. I plunged home with a shouted expletive.
My own control had slipped through my fingers the moment she came around that corner and smiled at her husband.
“So fucking good. Hot…tight…and mine.”
Her head thrashed on the counter, her face contorted into an expression of pleasure and need. “Nico! I need it again. Please, again.”
“Yeah? My girl’s got more for me?”
She nodded, her breaths leaving her in shallow pants. “Yes. I always have more for you.”
“Christ. The feeling is mutual.”
My thumb found her throbbing clit and pressed down. She exploded immediately, going off like a firecracker under my hands. On a torrent of curses, I followed right behind her, pumping into her with bruising force.
As we came down from our highs, I lazily ran my hand down between her breasts and rested it on her stomach. I felt her tense under my palm, but I just chalked it up to aftershocks from another intense orgasm.
“I’m sorry.”
She lifted her head at my apology, curiosity etched in her features.
“I don’t think that soreness is going away anytime soon.”
She grinned, shrugging. “There are worse problems to have.”
Her face fell after those words left her kiss-swollen lips. Frowning, she abruptly shoved her sweater down over her hips and pulled her leggings back on with jerky movements.
“What’s wrong?”
She paused, then shook her head. All of a sudden, she was refusing to look me in the eyes. “Nothing’s wrong. But I do need to talk to you about something.”
Usually not words a man wanted to hear. Tamping down the alarm that had my muscles tightening, I braced myself. “About what?”
She pasted on a fake smile. “Let’s talk about it over dinner.” With that, she hopped off the counter and walked over to the stove.
My back molars grinded together.
I didn’t want to discuss it over dinner like a normal married couple. I wanted her to spit it out now so I didn’t have time to lather myself up into a full-blown panic attack. This could be about any number of things. Had Sergei called her, giving her a heads up that he was coming to town? Or was this something regarding the two of us?
I was about to demand that we talk about it now, because fuck waiting, when my cell phone rang from inside my suit jacket. Biting back my irritation at the interruption, I stomped over and snatched up the device.
Ace.
“Yeah?”
“Go somewhere where Lexi can’t hear you.”
My spine shot straight at his ominous words. His tone was foreboding, indicating there was a slew of bad news barreling down on me fast.
Goddammit, I don’t want to hear this.
Casting a final glance at Lexi, who was scooping food onto
two plates with her back to me, I walked down the hall and closed myself inside my soundproofed office.
“All right. What’s going on? What’d you find?”
“Nothing you’re going to like. Check your email. I just sent you some footage you need to watch.”
I walked to my desk and opened my laptop. “From Kozlov’s compound and Esposito’s escape?”
“Not exactly,” he hedged. “After Luka voiced his concerns about Lexi’s involvement a few weeks ago, I decided to do a little digging, just to rule out those suspicions.”
“Ace…” I said in warning.
I thought I’d already established that no one in my family was to go down that road. Not unless they wanted their face smashed to a bloody pulp.
“I found something, Nico.”
All my internal organs ceased functioning. At least, that’s what it felt like.
“Tell me.”
He sighed. “It’s something you have to see. Download the video I sent.”
I immediately clicked on the most recent email that popped up in my inbox, the one with a large file attached.
“I ran some facial recognition software through the city’s CCTV camera database,” he explained. “Just to track Lexi’s movements and make sure nothing suspicious was going on. Believe me, I didn’t want to, man. I didn’t actually think I’d find anything. Just thought this would help clear up any doubts.”
Already, I was feeling sick to my stomach.
Finally, the video loaded and automatically started playing. The black and white footage that appeared on the screen was only slightly grainy, so you could still see plenty of detail. The angle of the camera displayed a row of brownstones with cars driving by and parked along curbs.
Mom and Dad’s street.
Moments later, Lexi exited my parents’ house and walked down the front stoop, phone to her ear. She was glancing in all directions, as if looking for someone. Or making sure she wasn’t being followed? In the footage, she walked down the street a bit and waited at the front of an alley, pacing back and forth.
A man appeared in the frame. A big man.
A big man who walked right to her with purpose. And familiarity.
He was dressed mostly in black with a hood covering his head. In profile, I couldn’t see his face, but it definitely wasn’t Sergei. This guy was taller than Lexi’s father and moved like he was much younger. I zoomed in as far as I could, but it still wasn’t close enough to see his face.
Their conversation looked heated.
Lexi appeared frantic, almost panicky, her hand gestures jerky and insistent. Whatever she was saying, the man didn’t seem to like it. And whatever he responded back seemed to make her nervous. Whoever this person was, it was obvious they knew each other.
Two questions in my head demanded answers:
What the hell were they discussing that was so important they had to do it in secret?
Who the fuck was this man to her? Why was she meeting with him behind my back? Had she had a lover when we met that she’d never told me about?
Impossible.
I would have known, would have been able to tell.
At one point, the man looked over his shoulder at something across the street. It was a flash of movement that I would have missed if I’d blinked. But it was long enough for me to clearly make out the man’s face and confirm his identity.
“Fucking shit.”
Dimitri. Goddamn. Novikoff.
That cocksucker who’d looked at Lexi like he had some kind of claim on her—like she was his. The man I’d grilled her about, whom she insisted she’d never been more than childhood friends with. But it had been painfully obvious it was more than just childhood friendship or platonic intimacy for him. He wanted Lexi.
So, why in the motherfucking hell was he in this country, having covert meetings in back alleys with my wife?
“I assume this guy has connections to Sergei?” Ace asked, breaking through my homicidal thoughts.
I answered stiffly, “His name is Dimitri Novikoff. He’s Sergei’s righthand man, enforcer, head of security and all that shit. Been with him since he was young, according to Lexi. They’ve known each other since they were kids.”
“Then what the fuck is he doing in Brooklyn and not guarding his boss?”
Good question. The way I saw it—
“There’s only two plausible explanations,” I said woodenly. “Either Sergei is in deep hiding and not in immediate danger. Or—”
“He’s close by,” Ace finished. “Close enough that Dimitri could still watch his back. And if Sergei’s in the city, then it’s highly likely he was behind Esposito’s breakout.”
I was shaking my head in denial, even though Ace couldn’t see it. “Stop.” It came out as a plea.
This couldn’t be the truth. There was no way.
“Why else would Dimitri be here?” Ace pushed. “There’s no reason for him to be. There’s only one explanation for why he’d be keeping his presence here a secret. And why Sergei coerced you into marrying Lexi.”
I pulled at my hair. “Ace, I’m begging you—”
“Sergei planted her, man. Used her to feed Dimitri information about us and what we know, so that he could pass it on to Raphael.”
“That doesn’t make any sense!” I yelled down the line. “I don’t discuss any of this shit with her. I haven’t involved her in anything!”
“The point of making her your wife was probably so that you didn’t have to say anything. She lives in your house, Nico. She could learn a hell of a lot if she had access to your stuff and knew what she was doing. Even rudimentary hacking skills would get the job done.”
“She wouldn’t—” I cut myself off as her words from a few weeks ago came back to me.
I know you’ve invested in stocks for your parents that no one, not even Cris, knows about. I saw documents on the desk in your office.
Had she been snooping around? Relaying what she’d learned to Dimitri, who’d then passed it on to Sergei and finally, to Raphael?
Jesus. It was like fucking mafia telephone.
“How would giving Raphael information about us help them?” Conflicted thoughts warred with confusion. “What’s their plan? If they’re just trying to join forces with Esposito and form an alliance, what the hell does that have to do with our family?”
“Sergei needed money, and Raphael needed out of prison, as well as information on us,” Ace replied. “You scratch my back, I scratch yours. Could just be that simple. Either way, there’s no doubt Lexi has had communication with this Dimitri guy. Communication that she doesn’t want anyone else to know about.”
And she’d actually met with that bastard right outside of my own family’s home.
Right then, the footage changed to another camera feed in a different area of Brooklyn. This street was busier with more businesses, more traffic, and more people scurrying about.
Lexi walked out of the drugstore on the left-hand side of the screen, plastic bag in hand. She dug her keys out of her purse and headed toward my Audi that she’d been borrowing. Then, sure enough, Dimitri came up behind her, clearly startling her. He had that hood up again, concealing his face, but I easily recognized him this time. Same frame, same build.
“Look at the date stamp on that one,” Ace said sympathetically.
My gaze swung to the numbers in the lower right-hand corner.
Today.
11:13 am.
It would have been right around the time she headed over to the children’s center where she’d been volunteering with Mom.
She’d spoken to Dimitri today.
Then she came back to my house and made me dinner.
And then she let me fuck her on my own kitchen counter.
Je-sus.
In this footage, Lexi looked noticeably agitated by Dimitri’s presence. Shaking her head a lot, crossing her arms, throwing her hand up in his face.
Then his hand shot out and wrapped around her arm.
>
Ridiculous.
Even now my fists clenched so hard that my knuckles turned white. I wanted to lay that motherfucker out for touching her, even though she’d been going behind my back. She’d been lying to me this entire time, and I still didn’t want to see another man’s hands on her.
My dick clearly couldn’t see reason.
Well, maybe if you’d been thinking with the right head…
I was actually feeling more upset over the prospect of her sleeping with another man—of her cheating on me—than over her actual betrayal.
So fucking ridiculous.
She yanked her arm out of his grip and said something that knocked him back a step. After a exchanging a few more words, she turned and rushed to the car, got in, and sped off seconds later.
But it was Dimitri’s reaction that really had me riveted to the screen. He stood frozen on the sidewalk, staring after the car, looking stunned.
At first.
Then his face morphed into a menacing sneer, as if the shackles of his patience had just snapped. His chest heaved, his hands balled at his sides. When he stormed down the sidewalk and out of frame moments later, he acted like a man in a rage.
What the hell had she said to him?
Had she refused to help him anymore?
Stop hoping for unicorns and rainbows, you dumbass. She betrayed you. None of what you felt happening between you was real. It was all just as fake as your marriage vows.
The velvet box in my pocket had been burning a hole in my pants ever since I made the pathetically naïve purchase the other day.
Now, it was singeing my skin with its white-hot cruelty.
“What are you going to do?” Ace asked.
“Get to the fucking bottom of this,” I blurted out without thinking.
“Maybe we should play this cool, Nico. Try to subtly pull some information out of her. Question her, but don’t be too obvious about it, you know? Maybe she’ll fess up on her own. Or maybe the whole thing is a misunderstanding that she can clear up.”
I snorted. Watching that footage sealed the deal for me.
Luka was right.
“She’s working for them, Ace,” I grated. “That’s all I need to know. I’m going to go deal with her. Then I’m going to call her father and boyfriend and tell them to come get their little spy out of my goddamn house.”
Booze and Bullets (Brooklyn Brothers #3) Page 28