She rubbed her eyes. “Kaz?”
“Yes, mysh.”
“What are you cursing about?”
“Now’s not the time.”
“Then when is?”
“You’ll know.” I stopped her response with a kiss. “Did you get a good rest?”
“I can’t believe I fell asleep.”
“You were asking me about Moscow power structure. Of course you fell asleep.”
“I found it interesting.”
“It’s not.” I slipped my fingers along her frame.
“You look worried.”
Already, she knew my facial expressions.
I attempted to wipe the stress off my face. “Do I?”
“Yes.”
“Are there any other enemies I should know about it?”
She still thinks she’s my bodyguard. Would that change once she’s pregnant? Would she put the gun away?
I studied her.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Are you aware that I can take care of myself?”
She widened her eyes. “I am, but no one can do it better than me.”
I chuckled.
She frowned.
I straightened my face. “Fine. You may have a point.”
“We’re done with Luka, Sasha, Darryl. Is there anyone else? Who should I watch out for?”
“Anybody that’s not us.” I nipped at her lips.
She leaned away. “And who’s that?”
“Japanese. French. I’m sure the Italians are tired of me too. Sometimes it can be lonely being at the top.”
“I could send my people to Japan—”
“Nyet. The leader of the Japanese mafia is a slimy bastard. Kenji. He calls himself, ‘The Dragon.’ He’s more like a lizard with no fire.”
“But is he a threat?”
“Only if I let him be.”
“Very cocky.”
“You like it.”
“And the French?”
“Perfumed Pansies.”
“Excuse me?”
I shook my head. “They’re not even on my radar. If they cause us problems, I’ll send my low levels to slap them.”
She chuckled.
I quirked my eyebrows. “I’m funny to you?”
“The balls on you.”
“This is why the world can’t stand me.”
“I’m seeing.”
“Sometimes you have to tell people who you are, mysh.”
“And who are you?”
“The lion,” I growled and dove into the curve of her neck.
She giggled.
I nibbled at her neck and whispered, “I don’t look for trouble. It comes to me...scared and pissing in its pants.”
“Still.”
“Still what?”
“I can look into the French while we’re in Paris. Who’s heading? Tell me about them.”
I glared at her. “Nyet.”
She shrugged. “I would just be—”
“It’s not necessary.”
“Wait. How long are we going to be there?”
Whenever Zahkar finds this guy cutting monkey heads.
“Kaz?”
“It’ll be a short vacation. We deserve one.”
“Maybe I should’ve brought my men.”
“Hmmm. Somehow I forgot to bring them with us.”
“I bet you did.”
“They crowd you too much.”
“They’re supposed to.”
“I can take care of you better.”
“It’s not about that.”
“Sometimes it is.”
“If it will be longer than a few days, I’m sending for them.”
“Nyet.”
“Kazimir...whatever. I’m still going to look into the French.”
“We’re done talking about it.” My words came out louder than I wanted, but she had to understand that this was my world and she would do it my way.
“Okay.” Sighing, she rose from the bed. “Fine.”
Am I in trouble?
She left the room, taking that lovely ass with her.
I rose and cracked my neck, readying myself for the chase. I took off my shirt and slung it on the bed. My feet hit the carpeted floor. The plane’s engine vibrated through to my soles.
Where are you, mouse?
Shadows loomed within the dining room. My men took the opportunity to sleep while we were in the air. I wouldn’t be worth my position if I couldn’t protect myself on my own plane.
I scanned the dark space, barely making out the walnut table. Even the window shades were pulled down. Far ahead, a door had been cracked open, showing a sliver of light.
Did you go to get something to eat?
I stepped forward.
Someone grabbed me from behind and locked their arm around my neck.
Unable to breathe, I stiffened and twisted. The arm tightened around my neck some more.
What the hell?
My assailant was a tiny thing.
As small as a mouse...
I leaned forward and lifted her. Emily pushed us forward and, to my surprise, brought us down to the table. Shit. Grunting, I missed the table’s edge, barely slipped out of her hold, and rushed for her.
Too fast, she left me, blending into the shadows.
I scowled at the darkness. “What the fuck was that, mysh?”
“I’m teaching you a lesson.”
She’s on the left.
I charged for her.
She got me from behind again, locked that arm around my neck, and had us down on the ground.
Who the fuck taught her this? I’ll kill them.
She whispered in my ear, “Tap out.”
Never.
I grunted, used all of my energy, and raised us both in the air.
“K-kaz?”
I turned us to the window and gently pressed her against it.
Shocked, she loosened her hold on my neck for one second.
I slipped out, grabbed her arms, and twisted them behind her. I couldn’t keep the smirk off my face. “What was the lesson again?”
She kicked my leg fast.
I lost balance.
She tripped the other leg.
I hit the wall.
She giggled. “Come on, lion. Is that all you can do?”
“You don’t want to see what I can do.” I left the wall and charged for her.
Emily ducked, went to the ground, trapped my ankle, and swept my feet out from under me.
“Goddamn it.” I crashed to the ground, but grabbed her, yanked that little body down with me. A mad scramble ensued, wrestling and rolling. Trapping arms and shoving legs away. I copped a few feels of those lovely breasts. Her hand may have purposefully brushed against my cock.
I pinned her to the floor. She parted her thighs. My cock stiffened. No longer focusing on the fight, I groaned, falling into the trap. She rolled me over, twisted my wrists, and left me.
Frowning, I scanned the shadows and rose. “Maybe, this lesson is about running.”
She shoved me from behind and disappeared.
I hit my ass against the table and lost her.
Damn it. I almost had her.
She disappeared but whispered from the shadows, “The lesson was that you’re not as bad as you think, and I’m no punk either.”
I scanned the dark room, wondering where she was now. “How could you teach me that, mysh?”
“You can’t be that big and bad, if you let a little girl from Harlem beat you on your own plane.”
“That’s what you were doing?” I leaned against the table.
She didn’t respond, probably knowing I was searching for her.
“You’re not some little girl from Harlem. And this isn’t my plane. It’s ours. Due to that, I held back. If I wanted to kill you, you would be dead.”
Cold metal pressed against the back of my neck. The sharp edge of a blade.
“You too,” she whispered.
/> She’s too quiet and fast for her own good.
She set the knife down on the table. It clanked against the wood. I grabbed her. She shrieked.
“You don’t teach me lessons, mysh. I teach you.”
“Maybe you should be learning also.”
“And what would I need to learn?”
“Teamwork and...a less aggressive approach to people.”
“Meaning?”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be slapping generals.”
“You don’t like my approach?”
“I think it’s going to get us in another war.”
“I like war.”
“I like fucking you better.”
That response made my cock hard.
And just like that, Emily had won.
She left my arms and walked away.
The light came on next.
I stared at my crazy woman. It felt like someone had slammed me in the solar plexus with a bat as those beautiful brown eyes meet mine. Little did she know, she could destroy me without even lifting a hand. If she walked away...if she left me...that would ruin me more than any chokehold ever could.
The fight had loosened her ponytail. A few loose black curls fell around her face. Such a simple thing, yet every cell of my body yearned to melt against her.
I lowered my voice. “That was dangerous. What if I didn’t know that it was you putting me in a chokehold?”
Confidence filled her voice. “I would’ve handled it.”
“And you think I’m the only one with the ego problem on this plane?”
“I’m rational with my ego.”
“You’re not.” I closed the distance between us.
She backed away.
“The lights are on now, mysh. You can’t run away.”
“Luckily, I don’t want to.”
“You just want to choke your boyfriend?”
She blinked.
What made her so uncomfortable? Was it the fact that I had her cornered as I towered over her? Or was it because I’d said I was her boyfriend? How odd was it even for me to say it on my lips. But it was the truth and I wouldn’t run away from it.
Next, she’ll have me giving her my last name. How would that sound...Emily Solonik? Is she ready? Am I?
She lowered her gaze to my bare chest. “Sometimes I still think we’re moving too fast.”
“And sometimes I feel we’re not moving fast enough.”
She ducked under my arm.
I caught her and brought that small body back to me. “We’re not done talking.”
“We’re not?” She eyed me. “I’ve already taught you my lesson.”
“I learned nothing. I already knew you could handle yourself in a fight.”
“I’m not just going to France to eat good food. I’ll have my eyes open.”
“Fine. There won’t be anything for you to see besides me, and I’ll need all of your attention.”
“And if there’s more to deal with, then I’m—”
“You forget who you’re with.”
She rolled her eyes.
“You’re stubborn.”
“Really, Kaz? Well then, like attracts like.”
“There won’t be any need for you to keep your ears or eyes open in Paris. It’s the city of love, not war.”
She let out a long breath. “Am I worrying for no reason?”
“Yes. Nothing can go against us.”
“And if you’re wrong?”
“Then, I’ll destroy France and any other country causing us harm.”
“We’ll see.”
“We will.”
“Will we?” She rose and kissed me.
Again, Emily’s lips overtook me harder and faster than any attack, taking my breath away and stunning my heart. Along with salt and sweetness, there was nothing but mischief on her tongue. I tried to suck it away, but it was impossible. My mouse would always be a clever creature keeping me on my toes.
Only you.
She pulled away, and then I carried her back into the master suite.
Chapter 10
Emily
Did I show him?
I doubted it.
A wicked smirk covered his face as he carried me into the plane’s master suite.
He learned nothing. If anything, he’ll probably guard me more.
Long ago, he’d decided I was his to protect. Secretly, that felt good. It eased my fears. I felt bad for anyone that dared to come between us.
Why am I even worried about enemies? Why am I so focused on more war?
My gut said keep stressing. My heart argued to let go.
Up in the sky, the rest of the world didn't exist. Nothing could stop us up here. Back on the ground, it would be the same. No enemy would matter. Nothing ever would, not with the way Kazimir loved me.
How did I get him on the floor?
Kaz was a mountain of a man after all.
It was luck.
For the rest of the flight, we had champagne and chocolate strawberries. Between bites, somehow, Kazimir’s thick cock slipped between my lips.
I sucked his cock with the taste of champagne in my mouth, and he poured more down his length as I licked and lapped, splashing a little at my lips until I didn’t know if I was drinking the champagne or him.
“Goddamn it.” His cock bust hot and thick into my mouth. “Take it all.”
Towering over me, he shook more champagne on his cock.
“Mmm.” I sucked the sweet liquid up as I moved my mouth, greedy for more. Stiff, it jerked. I reached up, wrapped my hand around the base, and lapped at the tip.
Kaz moaned and then come hit my tongue. I swallowed, taking him in. Champagne dripped down my chin. The bottle shook in one hand as he wielded his cock in the other. “Damn you, mysh.”
“You love it.” It turned me on knowing how I could make him lose control.
He pulled his cock away. My sex throbbed. I’d done this to him. He wanted me so badly, his cock dripped for my mouth and my sex began to throb.
Minutes later, we changed, and the plane landed in Paris. We walked off. The pilot and staff waved goodbye as we left.
As we headed to the limo, I licked my lips and could still taste him on my tongue. Kaz’s flavor branded my mouth. But then, he’d already branded my heart and seeped into my skin. There would be no getting free of him. Even crazier, I didn’t know who I was anymore.
Is this what falling in love is?
Disrupting my thoughts, Kazimir took my hand and led me to an orange Bugatti parked on the airport’s private sector runway.
“And I promise to take my time and keep everything simple.”
I shook my head.
Clearly, we both have different definitions of the word “simple.”
Kazimir squeezed my hand. “Impressed?”
“I’ve been impressed since I’ve met you.”
“I figured we needed something else besides a limo.”
“Why?”
“Too cliché for Paris. This car is perfect to drive around here.”
“Why?” I asked.
“It’s French made.”
“I thought the name Bugatti was an Italian term.”
“Good catch. The car was founded by an Italian man named Ettore Bugatti. He moved to France before jumping into the car-making business.” Kazimir opened the door on my side. “And I love to drive his creations.”
“I see.” I climbed in.
Kaz got in next and started the car.
“Mysh.” He revved up the engine and smiled at the melodic hum. “Do you hear that?”
I laughed.
Licking his lips, he lovingly ran his hands along the steering wheel. “The only thing better than an expensive and very, very fast car is...your pussy.”
“I’m glad I beat fast cars.”
“You beat everything.”
We sped off, because...
Kazimir.
We zoomed through the runway as if it was his own massive pa
rking lot. I was shocked he didn’t do a few wheelies near Air France’s traffic control as they focused on landing planes. No fool, I buckled my seat and held on.
It took us time to leave the airport, zoom down a long highway, and then enter the city limits.
Intrigued, I asked, “What’s the name of the restaurant?”
Somehow, Kazimir switched to a pretty damn good French accent. “La Cuisine Perdue.”
“You sound like you’re from France.”
“Only because you’re not from France but thank you. I worked at getting rid of my thick Russian accent to speak the fluffier languages.”
I smirked. “Your Russian is very present in English.”
“I don’t consider English fluffy at all. It’s a criminal language.”
“No.”
“In order to make it in any sector of the crime world, one needs to know English. There’s nothing dirtier and more based on blood than the US and UK.”
“I never thought of it that way.”
“Either way, you’ll love La Cuisine Perdue.”
“What does it mean?” I asked.
“The Lost Kitchen. Recently, they’ve had some scandal, but I’m ignoring it for this evening.”
“What happened?”
“The owner was accused of aesthetic snobbery as only the French could be. He had his hosts allegedly seat guests according to attractiveness. Good-looking diners were automatically upgraded to the best tables in the house. The ugly ones sat near the bathroom or in the far back.”
“That sucks. What one person thinks is beautiful is another person’s ugly.”
“That being said, his food is amazing enough for me to ignore his stupidity.”
I’d heard Paris was one of the most beautiful cities in the world. I had to agree. Even the streetlights glittered like diamonds, painting the blocks in a gorgeous glow. Large elegant fountains and manicured trees shaped to perfection. Ancient structures towered over us as we sped by. Some were green, marbled, and some had gold lettering at the bottom. Some appeared to be hundreds of years old. Among large streets, I saw small lanes, cobbled roads, and even grand boulevards. I couldn’t wait to stroll around the city.
Sidewalk cafés stood here and there. Many lovers strolled hand-in-hand. Each block resembled a picturesque postcard about love. There was a modern feel among the timeless structures, and I instantly understood how this place had inspired poets and artists for centuries.
“So...” I scanned the pretty city. “If I had said I wanted to eat Italian or even Chinese, we would’ve gone to those countries?”
Dirty Hearts: The Lion and The Mouse (Book Three) Page 11