The Deception (11 page)

“Ugh. The light was perfect. Maybe I can Photoshop him out,” Everly muses, oblivious.

Think, Roman, think.
How do I keep her safe without showing her who I really am? Before, I never had to worry about another. Despite being a part of the
Bratva
and having more family than—as Everly would say—I could shake a stick at, I have always been solitary.

Petrov’s long legs eat up the distance. I look around for something—anything—that could serve as a distraction for my would-be assassin or my lover.

I spy a Swarovski crystal shop. “Love, didn’t you say you wanted to buy your mother and best friend a present from there?”

“Yes!” Everly tucks her phone into her coat pocket. “You might want to stay here. I take forever picking out presents. It’s a curse all Andrews women suffer.”

I’m too damn concerned and anxious for her to be on her way to appreciate her humor, but I manage to give her a wink and say, “Enjoy yourself. There’s a business call I need to make anyway.”

She gives me a fleeting kiss, and then sets off in the direction of the store. I try to keep one eye on her and another on the man only steps away from us. Starting for him, I cut across the crowds of tourists and slip into the shadows. It’s not fully shielded from their eyes, but it will have to do.

“Nikolai, you fucking pussy,” he spits out. “How many lives do you have left?” There is a scar along his cheek, pulling at his skin—a visible reminder of our last fight. He appears to be weaponless, but I know better. Besides, knowing what I do of him, he wants this time to be personal. He’ll use a knife instead of a gun.

Everly enters the shop, and the door closes behind her.

Now, I am able to fully concentrate on the lunatic in front of me.  “In a fight recently?” I ask pleasantly, palming my gun. Nothing enrages him more than being perceived as a non-threat. A man fighting with only anger to guide him rarely wins in the end.

“How you managed to live is beyond me,” he says. “Who’s the woman?”

“New target.” Or she will be if I don’t find a way to get out of this mess I’m in with Viktor and his financier.

Obviously stunned, Petrov cocks his head to one side. “She doesn’t look like your usual mark.”

“She’s in the way.”

“Welcome to the dark side, Nikolai. Too bad you won’t be staying long.”

Petrov lunges, a wicked blade catching the light as it slices through the air. I turn just in time, and the knife cuts through my coat instead of my flesh. Using his forward momentum against him, I kick Petrov in the gut, sending him stumbling backwards. A surge of satisfaction rises when his breath leaves on a whooshed groan.

Unfortunately, he manages to stay on his feet, winded but ready for more.

I reach for my gun.

His eyes narrow over a menacing grin, a new gold tooth flashing. “You won’t use it. No silencer.”

From my pocket, I pull out a silencer and screw it on, then aim at his head. “You were saying?”

“You still won’t do it,” he sneers. “You don’t kill for the hell of it.”

He’s right. But that doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy beating the hell out of him. Taking a step closer, I punch him in the mouth. Something comes loose behind my knuckles, and I smile. He swears at me, covering his face as blood dribbles down his chin. “For the hell of it, no. But you took something from the one person you shouldn’t have.”

He spits out a tooth, curses the day I was born, and comes at me again, somehow managing to ram a fist into my gut. I take it with a grunt, edging perilously close to the water’s edge to avoid a second punch, and then backhand him with my gun.

He stumbles, teetering at the bank of the river. There are no railings here, nothing to keep me from pushing him over the edge.

But I have no intention of allowing him to float to safety. A small group of nuns passes by us and I nod at them, placing my hands behind my back.

Seeing my hesitation, he grins. Blood coats his mouth, teeth, and chin. “Don’t worry, Nikolai, I’ll take care of her for you.
After
I get a taste of the goods. Her pussy must be a near religious experience for The Monk to shed his robes.”

His taunt rolls through my head. Hadn’t Viktor said nearly the same thing to me? My mind whirls with the possibilities. There is a connection. There has to be, especially between two men, who in the past, would have shot each other at first sight.

Then again, in the past, no one would have referred to me as The Monk except Viktor, to get in a little dig. I worked hard not to cultivate a name or leave a calling card for those, like Petrov, to find me. Perhaps Viktor had been the one to tell Petrov I’d murdered his brother.

“You think too much,” Petrov says as he whips out a gun and takes aim.

I’m faster. My bullet leaves the chamber with a muted bang before his finger has the chance to squeeze the trigger, leaving a small, black hole in the center of his forehead.

“You talk too much.”

His eyes widen as he falls sideways. He’s not dead. The movies always have it wrong. I could shoot him two or three more times, and he’d still live for a good ten minutes.

Which is why I don’t shoot him again—I want him to suffer. I want him to panic, to suffocate in the knowledge that his heart will slow in torturous increments, until it stops beating altogether.

I wait for the light to dim in his eyes, and then kick him over the edge. The river carries away the only evidence of my crime.

There isn’t an ounce of regret or guilt for killing him, not even with my unanswered questions. He was a horrible human being who killed for the thrill of it—the right payout provided, of course.

I take a deep breath and wait for the gun to cool before I return it to its hiding place. When I was just a lad, I’d not waited, and the metal had burned like hell. My lower back still bears a small scar from it.

But this won’t scar me like the others. I feel nothing but satisfaction as I walk away from the riverfront.

So much for being a changed man.

THE DECEPTION

M
y hands are clean, and the gun is safely hidden by the time Everly exits the shop. I flex my fingers, eyeing the black tattoos that are inked into my skin.

Well, my hands are mostly clean.

She swings a bag as she walks, her cheerful mood a beacon in the crowd. “I’m done,” she sings out.

Normally, this kind of attention would be unwelcomed, but I am too jubilant at the thought of Petrov being eliminated. Everly is safe from him.

I start in her direction, intent upon taking her back to the hotel and making good on my promise to order room service desserts. Memories of this morning crowd their way to the forefront of my mind. My hands on her body, spreading her thighs, and then holding her wrists prisoner. How she tasted on my tongue. The sounds she made when she came apart in my arms.

My stomach roils suddenly. I can’t touch her... much less have sex with her. I’ve just killed a man. I look at my hands once more, and they’re stained with blood instead of ink.

I pivot and stride away, fighting the bile that threatens to rise.

“Roman?” Everly calls out, her footsteps growing closer as she follows me. “Wait up!”

I slow my gait to allow her to catch up with me, but only because I can’t leave her behind. Not only would I be leaving her to the wolves, but she’s in a foreign country and can’t speak the language.  I doubt she could name our hotel.

With a forced lightness, I turn my attention to her, acting as though I’m happy to have found her at last and not running away. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

She nearly bumps into me. “You have? But I’ve been in the same shop the entire time.”

I shrug, feeling ridiculous. “Perhaps you were hidden from me.”

“I guess.” Giving me an uncertain smile, she asks, “Why didn’t you stop when I called your name?”

“I didn’t hear you,” I say firmly. “I was lost in my head.”

“Bookseller stuff, huh?”

“It’s rather cutthroat.”

Everly’s lips twist. “Must be
so
hard talking to Victoria.”

“Who?”

“You know,
Victoria
—the woman who just had to get something from you while we were on a date. Otherwise known as coitus interruptus.”

“Are you jealous of Victoria?” I ask, though I suspect the answer is yes. However, if Everly were ever to find out Victoria’s true identity as my mentor, Viktor, then she wouldn’t be so put out.

“No,” she says quickly. A little too quickly.

“I think you are.”

“Well,
I
think it’s ungentlemanly of you to say so,” she says primly, turning up her nose. “Anyway, I’m ready to go back to our hotel.”

For some reason, her reprimand spurs me into action. I don’t give a damn about not touching her. I have to touch her. I need her.

Without saying a word, I crowd her into a dark alley. “Roman!” she says, looking around. “What in the world are you doing?”

“Showing you how ungentlemanly I can be.” I cup her face with both hands and slant my mouth over hers, forcing my tongue inside. I lick and taste and take from her, until she responds in kind.

I grind against her, showing her how hard she makes me, as one of her legs wraps around my hip. My hand leaves her face to slide down her neck and then over one breast. I palm it, rubbing my thumb over her already hard nipple.

“Wait,” she says, breathless. “I can’t, not in public.”

“As you wish,” I say, and then kiss her again. I force away the urgency I feel, the need to take her here and now. I trace the outline of her top lip, then slip my tongue inside her mouth once more to twine with hers. My body goes harder than ever before, like steel being forged for battle.

Everly softens against me, her full breasts rubbing against my chest. She sighs so sweetly that I pull away and gaze into her eyes. Somehow they are highlighted by a trick of the streetlights.

“You are infinitely special to me, do you know that?”

“I do now,” she says softly. “You’re special to me, too.”

Forcing a calm breath, I turn from her appreciative gaze and hail a taxi. It carries us back to the hotel in no time. Anticipation makes my nerves come alive. I’m dying to touch her, to taste, to claim her. Actually, I’d give my last breath to be inside of her again.

I shut the door behind us and turn to face her.

She looks up at me. Slowly, she peels her clothes, on agonizing piece at a time, until there’s nothing hiding her lush body, but her bra and panties. Then, she raises her hands above her head and waits.

I pin her wrists against the door with one hand, using my free one to unfasten my trousers and pull out my cock. Gripping it at the base, I stroke myself while she watches avidly.

“Get down on your knees. I want to see your mouth wrapped around my—”

She’s on her knees, taking me into her mouth before I can blink. Her small hand is wrapped around the base, where mine had just been. She looks up at me, her pink lips stretched wide as she takes all that I have to give to her. Her little tongue darts out to lick the head and I let out a low, approving moan.

My hips thrust forward on their own. I can’t help it. She rewards me with a long, slow lick from tip to base. Her cheeks hallow out as she pulls me deep and I punch out my arm, connecting with the door. It sounds as though I’ve put a hole through it.

Don’t fucking care.

Releasing her hands, I dig through my pocket to pull out a condom. While she sucks me, I tear it open and then close my eyes.

“Your mouth is paradise,” I growl.

My balls start to draw up, and I know I’m close. None to gently, I push her away and she fights me.

“I wasn’t done,” she complains.

Jesus.
She was fighting for more. “Greedy girl. I’ll give you what you need.”

She pouts. “But not what I want.”

“It’s the same thing. Trust me to see to your pleasure. Trust me to take very good care of you.”

I roll the condom on and help her stand. Then I drop to my knees and run my hands along her soft, inner thighs, looking up at her. “Spread yourself for me.”

Eyes locked on my face, she does as I asked. I gaze at her where she’s soft and pink. “Very pretty,” I say right before I lick her.

She makes a little noise in the back of her throat.

I take my time eating her out, take my time savoring the taste of her pussy. I want to draw her pleasure out, make this last forever, because I have no idea how much time we have left together.

My fear for her makes me desperate. Another pass of my tongue and I stand, bending my knees a little to reach her core. Her hot, inner muscles clench me tight as I push inside.

She gasps loudly, and I adjust my stance, bringing one of her legs over my arm. “Hush, love, or everyone will hear you.”

She whimpers, and I smile.

“You want that, don’t you? You want everyone to hear you.”

“Yes,” she moans.

“Louder.”

“Yes.”

I pump into her so hard that her breast nearly bounce out of her bra. I rip the cups off and pinch her nipples. “Say my name.”

“Roman.”

I grimace. Roman isn’t my name.

“Roman,” she moans.

Damn it.
“Don’t say my name.”

“What?”

“I want to play a game, yeah?”

“Oh-okay.”

“I’m Nikolai, a Russian assassin who’s been sent on a mission to—”

“Save the world from an evil dictator!”

In this moment, I wish that were true. “Yes.” I bite her bottom lip. “Now, try again. Say my name.”

“Nikolai,” she breathes, and my dick swells up so big that I curse.

“Louder.” I pinch her nipples again.

“Nikolai,” she screams.

Something inside of me snaps, and I’m no longer making love to her. I’m fucking her. There’s only the heat of our bodies, the wetness of her pussy, and the hard tips of her breasts. There’s only acceptance as she takes what I give her. There are only her hands gripping my shoulders, her teeth scraping my neck.

There’s only us. There’s only where we are joined.

I look down, watching as I disappear inside of her and pull back out, slick with her juices. Ruthlessly, I slam into her and then spin us around, before stalking to the bed. Automatically, she tightens her legs around me. I lower her onto the edge of the bed and pull her legs over my shoulders, before pistoning into her like a machine.