Bound to the Beast: Russian Hitman Romance (11 page)

This couldn’t be happening.

Alexei

Officially, I was driving to the downtown art district for business alone. I needed to see if Susanna had any idea where her brother might be. She was not only the closest living relative geographically, but as his little sister, and there was a good chance she would be more sympathetic to his plight than his father would be.

Unofficially, I
needed
to see her. My body pulsed and ached from the distance that was between us, a physical distance that was eating me up in ways I’d never had to deal with before. I’d never been so attached to a woman before, which was sort of the point. So maybe my official business was only an excuse.

Besides, I need to make sure Tyler isn’t there.

The thought was a little odd for me. I wasn’t the type to be jealous, necessarily, though I could certainly be possessive. And it was that possessiveness over Susanna that had me grinding my teeth along the way to her apartment at the thought that
he
might be there with here right now.

Still. She’d pretty willingly let me slide into her and make passionate love—no, wait, not love. I didn’t do
love
. Rather, she’d let me fuck her into oblivion. She didn’t seem like the kind of woman who would just allow any man between her legs, so I was confident that fiancé or no, this Tyler guy wasn’t what she really wanted.

And if I had to remind her of that little fact, well, that was business, too, wasn’t it?

I arrived at the apartment in a relatively short amount of time. Once again, I thought of how easy it was to get into the building. There was little concern as far as who would be coming and going. This time, it made me frown. Susanna was
living
here in this little shit hole of an apartment in an unsavory part of town. Sure, the artsy community gave me a little bit of comfort, as they generally weren’t the types to get involved in the heavy crime that was usually problematic in the lower income neighborhoods, but still. Drugs were likely running rampant in the area—artists were known for that—and god knew what else. At the very least the damn place could have some means of protecting its inhabitants from the wickedness of the outside world.

Something would have to be done, I decided.

I made my way quickly up the stairs to her floor, rounding the corner towards her door easily. When I got to the apartment, I took a moment to straighten myself out. The night had been a little rough on me, leaving me drawn and ragged I was sure. I didn’t want her to see me like that. Taking a steadying breath, I combed back my hair and projected the calm exterior I was famous for. I didn’t want to freak her out, but I
did
need to ask her about Christopher. Now that he knew I was on his tail, there was a good chance he would seek out refuge somewhere. Somewhere he deemed safe, and given that his father was a good ways away and his mother was dead, I was willing to bet that his safe haven was Susanna. I couldn’t picture her turning him away—unfortunately—which meant he likely knew the exact same thing.

After I’d collected myself, I raised my hand to knock—but still I hesitated. Susanna had been…willing the last time I was here, but that didn’t necessarily mean she’d been happy to see me. And with my abrupt departure, she was unlikely to be in a better mood in regards to me. While I felt confident in my ability to smooth over that little romantic hiccup, I wasn’t so sure about bringing up Christopher. He seemed to be a sore subject, though I sensed she must know at least in part that he was a screw up. Likely she was just in denial.

I’d need a plan in regards to my approach on the subject.
I shot at your brother last night, intending to kill him, and the only reason I didn’t was because he rounded a corner in his truck before I could get a good shot in.
Somehow, that didn’t seem like the wise approach, but I didn’t think straight up lying to her was a good move either. There was so much potential for that to come back and bite me in the ass.

So I’d need a compromise. Namely, asking if she’d seen Christopher, warning her that he was in serious trouble, and insisting on her denying him access if he did approach her—I didn’t want her to get dragged into this mess any more than she already had been. By letting him in, giving him refuge, she was bringing herself into it whether I liked it or not. It would put me in a bad place.

What if she went to the cops? What if she asked me to back off and I didn’t? Or worse, if I did?

I didn’t want to cause undo strain between us, but I knew that walking away wasn’t an option. If I did, there would be another hit man to come in and take my place. One with far less scruples than I had. I wasn’t sure yet why it mattered, but there was a connection to her that I couldn’t deny, and it would be made all the more difficult if she hated me for killing her brother.

Finally, I knocked, bracing myself for how this was about to go.

It only took a moment for Susanna to answer. She didn’t seem as surprised as I’d anticipated when it was me on the other side of the door, making me think that she had some inkling that I would be back all along. That somehow made me feel good—right up until I caught the expression on her face.

Cold. Angry. Apprehensive.

She was still pissed then from the other night. From bringing up Christopher? Or from fucking her into oblivion twice, only to leave before she awoke? It was too early to tell.

I stepped in and she didn’t stop me, but she didn’t close the door immediately behind me either. In fact, she seemed to debate the wisdom of it altogether, as though worried about cutting off her escape route or being alone in a room with me.

I frowned. When had
that
started? Most people didn’t start to fear me until they’d realized what it was I did or who I worked for. And I didn’t think she’d had any access to that sort of information. Not yet.

Although I had planned before even knocking to ask about Susanna’s brother, I found myself hesitant to do so. Something about her mood made me uneasy. I decided it was better to approach her about the
other
reason I was there: sex. I could be honest with myself; Christopher was on the backburner. Yes, there was a possibility he might show up, but there was an equally good chance that he’d just hole up in some cheap, rat infested motel until he felt like the whole thing had blown over. Because there was even a remote chance of that, right? What a moron he was turning out to be. When it came right down to it, I wasn’t really here because of Christopher. If Susanna led me to him, great, but if she didn’t have the foggiest idea where brother was, then I didn’t care a lick.

I wanted her writhing beneath me yet again and
that
was the real reason I was here, whatever else I tried to convince myself of.

Switching gears, I focused my heated gaze on her. Every time before, that gaze had turned her to jelly, sweeping through her like fire. I could see it in her eyes, in the way her body shivered when near me. Slowly, my eyes slipped down her small but perky and perfectly curved frame. I let my gaze linger on her full breasts, seeming to grow each time I caught a glimpse of them, eventually allowing my eyes to tear from them only to dip lower. They trailed down her thin stomach to the flare of her full hips and that warm, wet spot between her shapely thighs.

By the time my gaze returned to her face, I expected her to be panting with need, her eyes glassy with desire. But I was wrong. Her face was stony, her eyes clear as the day outside, a cool blue that was uncharacteristic from every time I’d seen her before.

I frowned. What was going on?

Stepping closer to her, I moved slowly, carefully as though approaching a skittish animal. She didn’t move away from me, though I saw her tense. Her arms folded across her chest, which did nothing to dispel my growing desire for her. Her chest always looked so plump when she did that, as though it might spill over her arms at any moment, heaving and bouncing.

My own thoughts caused my cock to twitch within my pants, beginning to grow hard as I thought of the things I would do to her today and maybe through the night, too.

When I was only inches from her and she had to lift her chin to look up at me, I reached for her. My fingertips just barely grazed the bare skin of her arm when she jerked away from me.

I lifted my eyebrows in surprise. What was the problem?

She turned away from me, sidestepping so that our bodies weren’t so close and the heat couldn’t build between us as it always did. I turned to keep myself facing her, though I didn’t try to close the distance again. Was she still pissed from the other night? She hadn’t been reluctant
then
.

I gave her a moment to speak, to explain, to say
something
that would give me an indication of what was going on. But she said nothing. So I tried again. Sliding up behind her this time, my eyes lingering on the full curve of her ass, I pressed myself against her, letting my hands linger on her hips and my member, which was mostly hard now, press against her full cheeks.

For a full three seconds it was glorious and I was sure she would melt. But then she pulled away again, rounding on me even as she continued to put more space between us. Her eyes narrowed.

“Don’t
do
that,” she half growled at me. I was impressed she could even make her voice go that low.

I blinked at her in confusion. “Do what? Press my cock against your ass or let my hands fondle your body? Because you’ve let me do both before.”

She flushed and again I thought I was winning her over. But she shook her head quickly and took another step back. “Yeah, well, that was then.”

My eyebrows rose high onto my forehead. Could she be serious? What could have possibly changed in only a day? “What is with you? You’ve never seemed hesitant for my touch before. In fact, you’ve always seemed hungry for it. Desperate even.” My eyes flashed as I drug my eyes across her form again, willing her body to respond with passion and fire as it always did. “I can tell by the whimpering and moaning. The begging. You don’t beg when you don’t want it.”

She sucked in a quick breath and I knew that regardless of what she was trying to say, she
did
want me. Still. It didn’t explain her behavior today.

She took a moment to collect herself, then leveled me with a cold stare that threw me a little off balance. In a flat voice, she answered, “I know you’re trying to kill my brother. I know, so don’t even try to lie to me.”

I didn’t say anything for a moment, just stood there considering her. She was right, of course. I
was
trying to kill her brother, though I was also fairly certain the piece of shit deserved it. The stealing maybe didn’t outright warrant a death sentence, but the rest of it did. I’d dealt with a thousand people just like Christopher and I knew that a one-time gig like this wasn’t an option. He’d killed someone, and that changed a man. Whoever she
thought
her brother was, he wasn’t. It was unfortunate that she knew, as that would likely complicate our relationship—if what we had between us you could call a relationship. I felt a spark of anger at the realization that the only way she could have known that I was after her brother was that he had told her.

Which meant he’d been here. My eyes surreptitiously scanned the studio apartment, but I already knew he wasn’t here. The curtains which cordoned off her bedroom were only half drawn and not moving, the bathroom door was unhinged, so there was nothing there either. There really wasn’t anywhere else for the asshole to hide. I returned my focus to Susanna.

“And if that’s true?” I prompted, not committing to anything just yet. I wanted to know where I stood with things.

After a moment, she told me, soft and terribly quiet, “It doesn’t matter what my brother’s done, Alexei. There’s no reason for him to be
murdered.
”

I couldn’t help it when the corner of my mouth kicked up in a small smile. “Murdered?” I repeated, sounding almost amused, though I knew that wasn’t the right approach just then. But I couldn’t help it. It was rather ridiculous. “I’m not trying to
murder
him.”

She frowned and I saw a spark of hope in her eyes. I almost felt bad for putting it there, but she needed to understand what was really going on. “Really? But I thought—”