Smoke and Shadows (9 page)

Billows of steam followed her naked body as Marissa stepped out of the shower.
 
She wrapped her long dark hair in a towel bun and covered her still-damp skin in a comfy terry robe. She was glad she brought all her girly toiletries because Viktor definitely had the bare essentials in his bathroom—soap, shampoo, toothpaste, deodorant, and other minimal stuff. She remembered he didn’t even bother with cologne. She also remembered that this soapy scent, when mixed with his masculine essence, was lethal. He was pure rugged male.
 

She shivered.
 

She used the sleeve of her robe to wipe the fog off the mirror and nearly jumped when she saw Viktor’s reflection. He was leaning against the doorjamb, watching her intently. He wasn’t there when she got out of the shower, was he? And she had locked the door—not that locked doors meant anything to Viktor.

“Uh…I should be done in just a sec…oh—” Marissa gasped as his arms suddenly wrapped around her, the heat of his body branding the length of her back. “Viktor . . .”

He didn’t say anything, just nuzzled her ear, his breathing heavy. One hand cupped a breast, fingers rubbing her nipple through her robe, the abrasive sensation sending a frisson of lust straight between her legs. His other hand slipped under her robe, lightly stroking the skin of her hip, fingers teasingly close to where she craved him. His mouth opened further, his hot breath trailing her jaw, his teeth grazing her lightly.

“Can’t wait to be inside you, Iz,” he murmured. “I need to fuck you.”

He pushed back from her and pulled off his shirt, revealing lightly bronzed skin, well-defined pectorals, and a six-almost-eight-pack abdomen that would make men half his age envious. If anyone aged well, Viktor did. Marissa continued to watch him strip. Next went his cargo pants—he went commando tonight—and he was already sporting a half-mast erection.
Oh my
.

“Like what you see?” Viktor drawled when she couldn’t take her eyes off him.
 

“You know I do,” Marissa murmured and went back to her nighttime ritual.

He chuckled as he sauntered to the shower. “Don’t bother putting on any clothes or underwear.”

She didn’t know why those words sent her pussy twitching, but they did, and she was so tempted to run her fingers through the lips of her sex.
 

The shower turned on and her gaze shifted to the beautiful sculpture of a man. The water slicked his body to unbearable sensuality, making that magnificent cock so achingly delicious. She licked her lips, remembering how he tasted in her mouth. She found herself struggling to breathe, the tension and anticipation suddenly too much.

She dropped her toiletries, grabbed the blow-dryer, and headed to the bedroom—or rather the section where the bed was. The light had been dimmed, and Viktor, apparently, had set the stage for seduction. Five minutes later, Marissa was still drying her hair when Viktor stalked out of the bathroom like a pillaging Viking marauder. He was naked.
 

He pulled the hairdryer from her hand, switched it off, and tossed it.
 

“Viktor—”

“Quiet.”

He hauled her up and swung her into his arms, carrying her in a bride’s hold. But romance was far from Viktor’s mind when he dropped her on her ass on a wide armchair.

“This will be rough and quick,” he rasped and his head descended even as he was shoving her legs apart, which she instinctively hooked on either side of the chair. His hot mouth sucked on the swollen lips of her core, his tongue swirling on her clit, sending shockwaves of unimaginable pleasure through her body.
 

“God!” she moaned, and he sucked harder in response. “Viktor!”

He looked up from her pussy momentarily. “You got that right.” And he resumed licking the gush of moisture that surged from her body. Her body writhed; her legs dangled helplessly as he kept her open and exposed to his greedy mouth, drawing every shudder, every pulse, and every gasp from her.
 

“Stop, oh, ah, stop!” she begged. Almost immediately, she was dragged from the chair and backed up against a wall. His eyes went ink, the limited lighting hiding his expression, but the urgency of his actions—tearing the robe from her body—revealed the thin thread of his control.

“You taste incredible. You always did.” There was a guttural tenor to his voice. He cupped her face between his hands and drew her close for a kiss, keeping their naked bodies just a wisp of distance away. He was surprisingly gentle, and Marissa whimpered, wanting to feel his hardness against her. She tried to lean in closer, but he moved slightly away.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” He continued to tease her, alternating between deep plunging kisses and light feathery ones.

Finally, he raised his head and said, “Look at the mirror behind us. I want you to see who’s fucking you.”

Her eyes gazed over his shoulder. She was mostly hidden. Viktor’s towering six-four frame shielded her with his massive tattooed back, his perfectly sculpted ass, and his powerful thighs that promised unmatched stamina.
 

He lifted her easily against the wall, moving closer, and positioning her legs around him. Marissa watched her limbs wrap over his body, such a sensual sight. She watched that ass tighten and flex forward at the same time as she felt his cock pushing inside her. The penetration titillated her nerve endings to an erotic degree.

“Are you watching, Iz?” he muttered against her neck, as he withdrew and plunged back inside her, stroking her slick channel with his hardness. “Are you watching me fuck you?” He punctuated this with a hard thrust that sent her to the brink, but not quite.
 

“Please—”

“Please what?” Viktor increased the pace of his thrusts, the force of his pumping slamming her into the wall and causing her breasts to bounce. Viktor’s face was raw passion and his eyes were smoldering with animalistic possession.

“Watch, Marissa,” he commanded and her eyes lifted back to the mirror. The sight of his ass clenching as he pounded her hips, her legs hanging loosely, her body held up by his arms and his cock, was enough to send her over the edge. “That’s it! Fuck—”

“Viktor!” Marissa cried as she came so hard she could have sworn she saw stars. He continued to grunt in counterpoint to his thrusts, his breathing growing erratic as he chased his release. Suddenly, he gave a short guttural shout, slamming inside her hard, burying his face into the curve of her neck as he spilled his cum into her.

Marissa floated in a sexual haze of post-coital bliss.
She smiled at the reflection of their entwined bodies. Her arms were around his neck, her hands stroking his back. One of her legs was cocked on his side, her other leg straight, and her foot was touching the floor from when he had lowered her.
And she was thinking this was the best she’d ever had.
 

Marissa woke and thought she was still dreaming. She wasn’t, but Viktor was. He was mumbling in his sleep, clearly agitated.

“Nadia—” he muttered.
 

The blood left her face and her heart cracked with an extreme emotion. Heartbreak? Jealousy? Anger? For Nadia was the name tattooed on Viktor’s right arm over a crown of thorns. Whatever the ink stood for, it wasn’t promising for her. Pride had prevented her from asking him about it. What did she care about the women of his past if she was his present? Apparently, she was wrong.
 

A sympathetic person would rouse someone who was having a nightmare. But she wasn’t feeling very sympathetic right now. She felt murderous. So before she decided to smother Viktor with her pillow, she got out of bed and walked to the sofa. There was no way she could sleep now. But she wasn’t spending another second in bed with him.
 

She’d been wallowing in self-reproach for her stupidity of getting involved with Viktor again when she saw him get out of bed and pad quietly toward her. Sitting beside her, he drew her stiff body against his, kissing the top of her head.
 

“Can’t sleep?” he whispered.

Marissa pulled away, ignoring his frown, and scooted to the opposite side of the sofa. She flicked on the lamp so she could see his face clearly.

“Who’s Nadia, Viktor?”

His face turned cold as all emotion leaked out.
Freaking great
. This was one topic that she wasn’t going to let him shove under his boot.

“Well?” she prompted impatiently.

“Not up for discussion, Iz,” Viktor bit out. To emphasize his point, he left her on the couch and prowled to the kitchen in all his naked glory. She followed him.
 

“Who is Nadia?”

Viktor’s jaw hardened. “Leave it alone, Marissa.”

“Who. IS. NADIA?” she screamed.
God
,
why am I doing this
? Obviously, Nadia was someone important in Viktor’s life who’d probably held that piece of his heart that he wasn’t willing to share with anyone else.

“Damn it, Marissa,” Viktor yelled at her. “It’s none of your goddamned business. We fucked, Iz. Do not assume that gives you the right to ask me these questions.”

His words were like the proverbial slap to the face. He was right. At least she knew where she stood right now. She wasn’t going to cry. So she bit her lip and drew in a ragged breath.

“That’s right. How could I forget?” she said mockingly. “You just want someone to fuck.” His already furious face grew darker. “Well, guess what? If I wanted a fuck buddy, I’d just fuck my neighbor. At least he doesn’t say another woman’s name only a few hours after HE’D FUCKED ME. So go fuck yourself, Viktor!”

Marissa turned away from him and marched to the bathroom. She swept all her toiletries into her vanity bag. She grabbed her robe that was hanging behind the door and walked back to where her bags were still packed—thank goodness—and shoved everything in it.

Viktor didn’t move from the kitchen. His head was bowed, and his hands were spread out, gripping the countertop. He wasn’t going to stop her from leaving. She’d probably have to call Allison to pick her up because a cab was out of the question given the threat against them.

Stilling the sob that tried to escape her throat, she pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater. After she had laced up her boots, she chanced a glance at Viktor—he still hadn’t budged.
 

She rose, picked up her bags, and walked to the door.
 

“I’ll just meet you at AGS later,” Marissa informed him, surprised how calm her voice was. They still had to catch some bad guys after all.
 

It was then that Viktor looked up, stunning her with the raw emotion etched on his face. She didn’t know how to feel. Were those feelings for her or Nadia? No doubt, it was the latter. She had to get out of here before she lost all dignity.

“Nadia was Carl’s younger sister,” Viktor stated flatly.

“Carl? Your best friend? Maia’s foster father?”

“Yes.”

“So—what? She was a high school sweetheart? Your first love you couldn’t forget?” Marissa said with much vitriol.

When Viktor remained silent, Marissa uttered a sound of disgust and headed for the door. Just as she reached the exit, his words stopped her cold.

“Nadia was twelve when she died. I killed her.”

*****

The nightmare of thirty years ago unfolded clearly in Viktor’s mind. He’d buried that hellish day deep down inside him, but recent events dragged every detail back to the surface of his consciousness.

“Viktor, I’m sorry,” Marissa whispered. She looked contrite, but he had to tell her the truth regardless of how ugly it was, because letting her walk away was not an option. Not over this. He couldn’t mislead her about who Nadia was to him to protect a shameful secret.
 

“I never told you about my past,” Viktor began. When she started to protest, he held up a palm and said, “Iz, it’s now or never. I won’t be able to dredge this shit up again.” He took a deep breath and continued, “My parents were Slovenian immigrants. We lived in a housing project near Baltimore. My father was a dock worker.” He paused. “But he moonlighted as a pimp.”

Marissa turned solid. Viktor smiled grimly. “My story ain’t pretty, sweetheart. One day, my father couldn’t get a woman for his customer, so he brought him home.”
 

“Viktor—you don’t have to,” Marissa’s voice cracked, but he went on. “He let that bastard use my mother. I tried to intervene, but my father was a big man, and I was still a scrawny kid. He beat the shit out of me. Afterward, my mother assured me that it would never happen again. But I had my suspicions that she was just protecting me because I would see bruises on her every now and then.”

Viktor seethed at the memory.

“How old were you when it happened?”

“Fourteen. I met Carl in school and we became fast friends. I spent so much time with his family. I dreaded going home. Nadia—Carl’s sister—was four years younger than us and she loved to tag around, tomboy that she was. She was the sister I never had.”

He had the sudden urge to feel Marissa around him so he leaned forward and grabbed her—having her back flushed to his naked front. He ducked his head to inhale her scent, before he continued, “For two years, they were like the family I’d always wanted. Their parents became my parents. I spent time with them when I knew my father was working in the docks. I was happy with them, carefree. But I’d feel guilty, leaving my mother with no one to defend her from my worthless, piece of shit father, so I always went home.”

“You were fourteen,” Marissa reminded him. “What could you have done?”

“Probably nothing,” Viktor said. “I tried to talk my mother into leaving. Just the two of us. I didn’t get why she needed to stay with him. I still don’t. When I turned sixteen, I had a massive growth spurt and my body filled out. My father started avoiding me. But one day, I came home and found some man raping my mother on the couch. And my father was watching the entire time, yelling at my mother to shut up and just take it.”

His fists clenched, the memory spiking a simmering rage

“Oh, my God, Viktor,” Marissa gripped his arms that were wrapped around her. “You don’t have to tell me, baby.”