by AJ Wyatt
“Oh, Talon, I’m so sorry.”
"She left me. It wasn't long before I heard the rumors she was still visiting the mansion. I didn't pay attention to the whispers at first. My father was so…old. It was hard to picture him as a man with appetites. But evidently, his appetites were being very well satisfied."
“What do you mean?”
"He'd had lovers before. Women. They were always around. When you're as rich as we are, you don't have to look far for a friendly face. But he married her. He brought her into his home in his final years. And who knows what she was promised.”
“But the will still named you and Vice as heirs?”
“Vincent," Talon said irritably. "And yes. The bulk of it went to me, of course, Vincent was to receive a minor trust fund. A pittance compared to what he was used to. Of course, he never bothered to contribute either, so he's lucky to have received anything."
“And yet somehow Blair is beating you in court? With a forged document?”
“Yes.”
"You believe it's really a fake? Your father wouldn't have given her a new will? Even something handwritten could have legal standing if there were witnesses."
“If it were money, I would believe it. But my father would never have given Osborne Energy to someone who wasn’t blood. The company was his legacy. It would not be an exaggeration to say that Vincent and I were born for it. I don’t think he would have bothered with children otherwise.”
The old man sounded like a real winner. Honestly, I was on Vice's side, and not just because he gave the best foot massage I've ever had. Talon might have had faith in his father, but I'd known too many men in my life who would promise anything when the moment was right. Whether that was when they got a glimpse of my body or when I put a gun to their head.
Principles tended to go out the window in both cases, with almost equal quickness.
"Alright," I said. "I'll make you a deal. You lay low for 24 hours and play nice, and when I'm done figuring out who's trying to kill you, I'll look into how Blair is beating you in the courts. Who knows, maybe they're tied together."
Talon got to his feet.
“You’re saying Blair could be trying to kill me?”
I held up a hand.
“I’m saying it might be related. Might. But I’ll get to the bottom of it either way.”
He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. It sent a tingle down my spine.
“Why are you so nice to me?” He said. “I can smell it when someone is after money, like a sixth sense I’ve spent my whole life honing. But I don’t sense that from you at all.”
“Money doesn’t mean anything to me. I can’t be bought or sold. The only person I answer to is me.”
He leaned in and slipped his arms around my waist. Feeling his chest against me made my heart race. My fingers traced their way up and down his back on their own. My whole body was saying, what are you waiting for? So when he kissed me, I didn't even bother trying to resist.
Why wasn’t I going to kiss him again? It seemed to have slipped my mind, along with everything else.
8
Talon’s hands danced across my skin, giving me little electric tingles wherever they stopped. He sucked in my lower lip and bit gently at it, then let his tongue caress mine in a deep kiss. A gentle shove put my back against the wall, and he caught hold of my hands, pressing them to the wall over my head. His toned thigh slipped between my legs. I didn't realize how swollen I was until that pressure was there.
He kissed me until my legs turned to jelly, and I couldn’t think straight anymore. I wanted him. Now. His lips left my mouth and trailed down my neck. I knew I should be quiet, we were outside where anyone could hear, but I couldn’t help the sounds of pleasure escaping me.
“Talon,” I said, when he began kissing at the soft spot just below my ear that was definitely not fair, “There’s something I should tell you, I… oh, god don’t stop…”
How could I tell him that just a few hours before I’d had his brother’s face buried between my legs?
“Is it about Vincent?” He said. “I already know.”
“He told you?”
Talon grinned. “The walls are thin. Everyone who was near this building knows.”
“And you’re not…it’s okay?”
“No,” he said, and his grin vanished, replaced with a look of grim determination. “I got you ready for it. It was meant to be my triumph when you finally came, and he took it from me. But I heard how well he did, and I know I can do better. Come with me.”
He led me upstairs to the dorm we'd given him, just across the hall from where Vice would be sleeping probably until noon, and pulled me inside. Once the door was shut, Talon shoved me onto the bed and crawled over me, letting his weight press me down and putting his thigh right back between my legs.
I didn’t need much convincing. He was one of the most beautiful men I’d ever seen, and the heat between us was undeniable. I’d only had chemistry like this with one other man, and the memory of those nights still haunted me. Just thinking about it made me wetter, and Talon knew it. He held both my hands with one of his, giving me a great view of his abs flexing as he undid my jeans and slipped his other hand inside. He lowered himself until his lips were almost touching mine, teasing me, making me come to him.
And I did.
His finger slipped into my wet panties and found my swollen clit quickly. He pressed into me and began rubbing in gentle circles, getting firmer as I cried out in response. My legs shook from the intensity of it, and he brought me right to the edge and then stopped.
“Now,” he growled. “I’ll show you what I’m capable of.”
He stripped my jeans and underwear off me as I lay there, weak from his touch. He slipped his arms beneath my legs and grasped both of my wrists, so I was locked in, feeling the warmth of his breath across my pussy. Even that felt like too much, as sensitive as I was.
His tongue touched me gently, stroking its way across my clit. The pleasure coursed up my spine, and I was so close to release it felt like agony as he made me wait for it. His mouth cupped over my clit, and he began suckling slowly, causing me to swell even more. His tongue flicked across me with a rhythm that had my back arching up from the bed. I moaned and squirmed, fighting to get more, just a bit more pressure, but Talon wouldn't let me have it.
When I started to cum, I thought I would lose my mind.
I fought him with my real strength, and he held me firm, forcing me to climax on his schedule, dragging it out, even as I shuddered against him. I thrashed and screamed.
"Oh, god, please," I screamed, "Please!”
Then he did. His tongue pressed hard into my clit, and I rode it as wetness dripped down his chin, and the orgasm tore through me.
I don't know how long I screamed, but when it was done, and he pulled his lips away, I fell back exhausted, my throat raw.
“Now, it’s okay,” he said.
My gaze traveled down his perfect body to the swelling in the front of his tight jeans. My eyes practically begged him to keep going, but he only gave me that infuriating grin and shook his head.
He pointed to the windows, where the sun was peeking in.
"It's daylight," he said, "And I believe you have work to do. You've got 24 hours, and then I'm back at Osborne whether you like it or not."
I groaned and rolled out of bed, flopping unceremoniously on the floor. Whatever gracefulness I usually had was gone. I was lucky my legs were even working. Between the two of them, the twins had given me plenty of release for the moment.
I did need to get moving.
I knew where to start looking for Magnus. The Bratva weren't up this early, so I had time to get some new panties on. I opened the door to head downstairs, and Vice was standing in his doorway, looking back at me. He and Talon locked eyes, and something passed between them. A challenge? I had a feeling being between these two was dangerous for my sanity.
“Oh, did we wake you?”
Talon said.
Vice smiled and slowly extended his middle finger.
"You just wait," he said. Then, he turned to me and added, "Good morning, little mouse."
“Morning, Vice.”
I left them to growl it out and stumbled downstairs to our fake dorm. I didn’t want them to see me going in the real one. I found some new panties — thank god Trib threw some in there — my transmitter and earpiece. I also armed myself with a few guns that the Bratva would definitely take from me when I got to the headquarters where Asshole did his business.
I hated the idea of seeing him again, of being in the same room with the man who…almost enslaved me once. Mostly I was afraid of myself. I'd spent nights thinking about him. Hell, I'd killed my way through several vibrators trying to exorcise him from my memories, and nothing would work. Part of me still wished I'd stayed. I could have spent so many nights tied up and… No, don’t think about it!
"He's an asshole, and you're not going to fall for it again," I told myself.
"So far, your restraint has been admirable," Trib quipped in my earpiece. "Coffee's on the steps."
"I don't deserve you," I said.
"You're a goddess, now get to work. I've got your tracker online, and I'm following your position."
I doubled back to the Suburban I'd stolen the night before and took the time to drive it a few miles away and wipe it clean before leaving it. I made a note of the name on the insurance card in the glove box because I felt terrible for whoever owned it. I'd make sure Talon sent them something for compensation. Their beat-up old SUV really saved our lives.
A rideshare took me to the run-down 20 story apartment building on Park Row where the Bratva made their home. They'd pushed the Italians out of Dallas years before, but now groups like the Yakuza and Chinese Triads were crushing them. The Bratva were living in a war zone and losing ground every year.
At least that's how it'd been when I was here last.
And how long had it been? After the Marines, before the CIA, when a young, naive version of myself thought she could handle it just because she’d been in a few war zones and won a few medals. Five years. Maybe a little longer.
The four guys sitting outside looked tough as nails. Shirtless, covered in tattoos, dripping in malice. Pawns hoping to fight their way higher in the pecking order. They all looked like murderers, and they probably were, but at each level, the Bratva got rougher, more brutal. The look they gave me when I walked up said Fuck off or get shot.
“Is Papa home?” I asked in Russian.
They looked at each other and stared back at me in silence. Finally, the biggest, ugliest one stood up.
“Maybe you get on your knees and ask nicely.”
“If Papa heard you say that, you wouldn't have a tongue anymore.”
Some of them started to look nervous.
“I don't like to be made to wait," I said, “Maybe he will give me your dick as compensation for my time. I will keep it in a tiny jar to remember you.”
The youngest one laughed. A mistake. The big one turned and brutally slapped him across the face, sending him crashing to the concrete. Blood ran freely from the boy’s nose as he struggled to get to his feet, his pride wounded. If I wasn’t careful, there would be a gunfight before I even got in.
“Enough bickering,” I said. “Tell Papa Medvedev his daughter is home again.”
They all froze. Even the big one looked suddenly pained.
“You do not know,” he said. “I’m sorry, but Papa Medvedev is dead. His son Yuri is Pakhan now.”
The big one threw a nod to the others, and after a brief text exchange on a cell phone, I was allowed in. Two of them frisked me, being more cautious around my chest and crotch than they should have been.
It showed they were scared now.
If the old Pakhan had called me daughter, and he had, that was serious. Disrespect could earn a death sentence. Still, I'd hidden weapons in places they wouldn't have found them with that light pat-down.
Negligent.
Not that I really cared. The news that Papa Medvedev was dead sent shockwaves through me. I felt a numbness in my heart I hadn't felt since the day I'd left my home behind. I'd only know the old man for a few months while I screwed around with his son, but he loved me, and he was kind to me. If Asshole had been less of an asshole, I might have become his daughter for real, and I wouldn't have minded. He was tough as nails and brutal with his men, but he was always sweet to me.
I would miss him.
And I definitely didn’t like the idea of Asshole as the new Pakhan of the local Bratva. That was the top spot. Power, wealth, all of it. And in the hands of that man…what would it do to him? How much more depraved and disgusting a person could he be? It would amplify every grotesque and twisted detail of his rotten personality.
And now I had to meet with the son of a bitch. I wasn't about to kiss his ring. That was for damn sure. He could kiss it himself, along with my ass.
They took my guns, just as I knew they would. Several first-floor apartments had been torn apart to make a maze of secret passages and hidden rooms. They lead me to a concrete-floored room that must have been part of the maintenance system once.
Right in the middle was Asshole, standing over a guy who was beaten to a pulp.
The victim’s eyes were swollen shut, his mouth mottled with bruises.
Yuri looked…amazing.
He’d been more of a boy when I’d seen him last. Now his body had grown into full manhood. He was jacket like a death row inmate, ripped and covered in black tattoos. Not the shit kind most of his men had, but beautiful, expensive work. Art. And it accentuated the lines of his muscles, which were on full display because he was shirtless and sweating.
He looked annoyed at the interruption, his dark eyes narrowed to murderous slits. Then he saw me, and he smiled.
“My love,” he said. “I have searched the world for you, and now you have returned to me.”
“You can eat shit,” I said. “And don’t ever call me that again.”
He sighed. "But it's the truth. You are my love, and there will never be another. As I told you before, my heart will always be yours, and yours will always be mine." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "But I know that boundaries are important, and I respect this. So what shall I call you?"
Boundaries? What the hell?
“Your Highness will be fine,” I said, not bothering to hide my snark. What did Yuri the demon know about boundaries?
The big man who’d led me in gasped.
“Anatoly is afraid I will kill you,” Yuri said, his eyes hard as flint.
“Anatoly is an idiot. You couldn’t kill me if you tried.”
“You don’t think so? Maybe we’ll find out, your highness.”
Everyone was still for a moment in anticipation. Yuri moved first, but he wasn’t quick enough.
I slipped behind Anatoly, and in the same movement, kicked out his knee and pulled his pistol from the back of his sagging jeans. He went down like a sack of potatoes, and that left Yuri with his hand behind his back, no doubt clutching one of the matching pearl-handled pistols he carried. But Anatoly's gun was aimed right between his eyes.
Yuri grinned and slowly lifted his hand to show it was empty.
"You are a queen," he said. "And one day, you will be my queen.”
I smiled despite myself. Anatoly groaned.
“Shut up,” I said to him. “I’m looking for the big Swede. Where is he?”
"You know Magnus?" Yuri asked, his brows raised. With his Russian accent, it sounded like Mag-noos.
“He’s my art teacher. If you’ve hurt him, Yuri, it’ll cost you.”
“Are you in love with him?” Yuri’s question had a dark edge to it.
"He's seen my tits. Is that enough of a connection? You've got five seconds before I paint the walls with your brains and find him myself."
"I will untie Oleg, and we will find your art teacher. Will that make you happy?"
/>
“Ecstatic.”
Yuri untied the man in the chair, and the bruised and battered man called Oleg surprised me by standing up and patting Yuri on the back.
“Thank you, Boss," he said in Russian.
“No problem,” Yuri replied.
Oleg stepped over Anatoly and walked out the door.
“What was that about?”
“Oh? Oleg was caught smoking cigarettes today.”
“I didn’t think Bratva cared about that sort of thing.”
"Oleg is part of quit smoking club," Yuri said with a shrug. "We are being supportive. Come."
Supportive? He definitely seemed…different than I remember.
We passed through an apartment where five men counted stacks of money that smelled of stale sweat and old paper, and in the next room, sitting at a table playing solitaire, was Magnus.
"There he is, unharmed," Yuri said proudly. "You see? I am a changed man from before. Since my father was assassinated, I've made a lot of changes. I think you will be happy and surprised when you see it. It is everything we talked so much about, your highness."
“I don’t remember doing much talking.”
Yuri smiled, and his gaze made its way across my body. I could almost feel his touch on my skin.
“I have a new house,” he said. “You should come and see it. I could not bear to stay in my father’s home.”
“Yeah, that’s never going to happen. Why don’t you tell me why you kidnapped Magnus?”
“I thought he was trying to kill me…”
Magnus had stopped playing solitaire and was frozen like a statue staring at me, his mouth open.
“Rayne?” He said. “What are you doing here?”
“As long as we ask questions,” Yuri said, “why have you seen her tits?”
9
