by V. Theia
“I thought… I thought we were friends.”
“We are. Best fucking friends.”
The smile did him in. Shy and happy at the same time.
Bet she thought he was talking out his ass, or with his raging cock.
He meant it. He was her friend. He wanted more, though.
And now he’d tasted her, felt her tongue meet his. He had to call on all his control to not go full steam ahead.
“I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
Hells to the fuck no. She wasn’t getting away with this bullshit, not when she sucked hell out of his tongue. His thumb pinched her chin, holding her steady. “You think so?”
“Da. I can’t have sex with you, Tag.”
A crushing blow, but not unexpected. Tag grinned and watched her pupils blow up. Fucking hell, she was phenomenal.
He wasn’t such a smart man, but he could figure it out right away.
He knew he wanted her, knew he’d do anything for her, and it wasn’t about sex.
“Not right now,” he agreed, “but here’s the thing. You like when I take charge, I see it in your eyes. You wanna deny it?” She rolled her lips inward like she was keeping the confirmation to herself. Stubborn little thing. What she didn’t realize, she was standing in his arms, letting him hold her. She liked it whether she would admit it.
He was betting the house on it.
“I get why you’re reserved, darlin’.”
“It’s the wrong time for an affair, Tag. I don’t want to, how do you say? Lead you on.” Letting his head hang down, watching every fleck of her gray eyes flare to life at his nearness.
“You liked our kiss?”
She flushed, nodding. Good girl.
“My children, Tag. They’re my focus, my priority. I don’t have any spare energy for a relationship, and you deserve 100% of a woman, not the scraps she has left.”
“Not asking you to switch focus, darlin’. Here’s where I’m at. You want this, so I’m gonna make it happen. I’ll be as slow as you need. But you’re not alone. Your problems are my problems, your worries, and fears. They belong to me. You’re gonna let me do things for you, whatever needs doing.”
She released a heavy sigh. Her shoulders lost some of their tension. He bridged the distance, taking his cues. He wouldn’t push her too much, but she needed some pushing to get her out of her fearful head. Cupping her face, she turned stunning eyes up while Tag stroked the apple of her cheeks. So beautiful, this woman tying his guts into knots. He would jump through hoops to earn one smile from her.
“Gonna do what I can to help you, darlin’, you getting that yet?”
“But… but all we did was kiss.”
Exactly.
One kiss set his blood boiling and carved out a new fucking life for him. It made an overbearing, protective part of Tag yawn awake.
“I wanna kiss you until you’re panting.” He shared with a veiled growl.
Her eyes widened as she listed into him, bracing a hand on his chest. He was on this train track now and he was never one for keeping his trap shut.
“Wanna make you feel crazy good all the time, Anna. Make those goddamn dancer’s legs shake.” She said something in Russian. The words puffed out of lax lips and Tag chuckled.
“I don’t know what to say to that.” She breathed against the thumb he’d taken to stroke over her lips.
Was she aware she was caressing it?
His cock begged for freedom, but that fucker had to calm down. There was no fun with it tonight, not until he got home and stroked a massive one out to relieve himself. Tag and his hand were the only action he was seeing lately because of her. He hadn’t jerked off like a fiend since he discovered how good his dick felt decades ago.
“You are so… masculine.”
For fuck’s sake. Why didn’t she just compliment his colossal dick and kill him outright?
Tag’s grunt came from a place of want, dropping his forehead to hers, dying to kiss her again, wanting her little tongue shyly finding his.
All in good time. He could be patient, he was finding.
What an unfound treasure she was.
“Let’s go home, darlin’. You gonna make me dinner?”
All tension tumbled from her face as she scoffed that little puff of air he loved hearing from her.
“Yes, I will feed you, biker.”
He smirked at the silky quality to her accent. It grew thicker when she was flustered and turned on “Let me close up, meet me out front.”
She was waiting by the door for him when he got outside. He set the alarm for the building and locked up. He didn’t wait for an invitation, reaching down for her hand, he curled his around her fingers. The only hesitation she gave him was when they were in front of his Harley.
“Where is the truck?”
“I only use the Raptor when it snows hard.”
And he wanted her on the back of his bike.
Wanted to feel her thighs bracketing his body and her nails digging into his stomach while trusting him to power the big machine.
“It’s safe, darlin’, I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”
“I’ve always wanted to ride on the back of a big motorcycle like this ever since I watched a movie in my teens.” She grinned impishly, and Tag’s stomach caved in. He moved fast, cupped her around the back of her neck, making sure she got the message he was gonna be touching her a lot. “You should have said months ago, I’ll always take you out on my bike whenever you want to.”
“Let us go then, bossy Prince Charming.” He clipped his helmet under her chin. Before he helped her swing her leg over, she turned, assessing him. “Are you sure you are only twenty-nine?”
A smirk edged up his lip. “Last time I checked, I was. Why?”
“The way you like to boss me around, you act older.”
She said something in Russian, brow furrowed, then pulled out her phone and spoke into a translator app. The robotic voice spat out the English. “Dominant.”
Was he? Not before now.
He’d always associated dominance with sex, and sure, he’d had rough sex and kinky sex in his time. He’d done bondage—them, not him, whatever the women needed to get off. But until Marianna, he hadn’t thought of himself that way.
Maybe it took the right woman to bring it out in him.
Either way, she got off on it. Her reactions were his currency and as long as she liked his ways, he’d continue.
“I’ll share a secret, Marianna.” He said once he swung a leg over the seat. Satisfaction poured over his head to feel her scooching forward until her crotch cradled his butt.
Head turned; he met her eyes. “I do that shit for you. Noticed early on how you responded to me. Do I enjoy being in charge? With you, yeah, I do. Pushing you out of your comfort zone, yeah. The minute it doesn’t work for you, you let me know, okay?”
How could her breathing make him hard as stone?
“You got a good hold of me back there? All you gotta do is let your body go with mine, yeah? Don’t fight it.”
It sounded sexual and her hum stirred filthily within him. Damn, he was twisted.
“Can we go fast?”
Tag’s eyes flickered closed with bliss. This woman.
Rasping, he answered. “Sure, fucking can, darlin’.”
She screamed holy hell in his ear at first as he took the turns with swift dips. He could push his chrome girl up to 120mph and still have control over her, though he went a little lighter on the speed with his priceless cargo on the back. He would have stopped had she not been laughing at the same time.
Halfway home, he passed Reaper, and the pair raised hands in greeting.
By the time he pulled into his driveway, her face was filled with glee.
She swayed a little when he helped her down, and his hand caught at her waist. It was then she noted their surroundings. A brightly lit street that wasn’t hers. “Where are we?”
“My place.”
Tag owned
a two-story house on the same street Reaper lived with his old lady. There was only one other house on a plot of land which was currently empty but owned by Texas who planned to flip it.
“Oh, I thought…”
“Let’s get inside before you get cold.” Guarding her, the swift obedience as she caught his hand put fire between Tag’s ears. Holy shit, she was flawless.
Maybe he caught a hit of Lawless’ dominance on the last prison visit.
He handed her the keys, and she unlocked the door like she’d always lived there. Tag switched off the alarm, flipped on lights and watched her reaction to his home. It was nothing grand, something he invested in this past year when he tired of living in an apartment, but it had new furniture. Black leather, light gray hardwood floors throughout, gray rugs and white appliances in the kitchen.
She peeked into the two living rooms leading down to the kitchen at the back of the house. One was for everyday shit, the other had a giant flat screen mounted to the wall for any time the boys came over for a game. Tag prowled behind her when she came to a stop on the black and white tiled flooring, glancing at the rectangle table down one end and all the stove shit down the other. Her breath stopped and started when Tag tipped over her from behind and touched lips to her ear.
“Think you can use that to cook us something? There’s steak and shit in the fridge.”
He heard her little guffaw, felt it shake his chest when he inched closer to get her sweet scent in his nose. Fucking addict right here.
“I do not want to eat shit, Luke. But yes, I can make steaks. I need to shower; I am sweaty from the dancing.”
She smelled incredible. If this was her sweaty, then he had a future of her driving him crazy to look forward to.
A future? He really went there. Fuck.
Taking her hand, he led her up the stairs to the first bathroom. “Drop your clothes outside, I’ll shove them in the laundry and leave you some of my stuff on the bed.” He indicated to the room behind him. She chewed on her lip, watching him before nodding.
Tag, horny as a stud in season, kissed her forehead and got out before he charmed his way in there with her.
She was in his house.
He got his Russian girl over the threshold at last.
Now he had to work to make sure she didn’t bolt.
Her life wasn’t easy so far, and he was gonna try all he could to make it better, didn’t know how yet, but he knew people who did.
His hard slog had only just started.
Tag was always up for a fight.
This might be the biggest one yet for the champ.
FIFTEEN
“It was no holly jolly Christmas.” - Marianna
The transition into Christmas happened fast in Armado Springs.
She came out of her apartment one morning to see a hugely decorated Christmas tree in the square.
Marianna’s heart pinged until she thought she might be having an attack.
She was nothing but sadness.
It was the smothering pain of panic.
What if she never got her children back?
The hopelessness of their life overwhelmed her, though she tried to keep an upbeat positivity whenever she spoke with her family.
Despite Marianna sending every dollar she could to pay someone in Russia to help Galina, there had been a setback. She ought to have known Anatoly would be a fucking liar too. He was a prick from the old neighborhood with ambitions of joining the ranks of the Bratva. He’d also been best friends with the twin’s father. He’d wanted Marianna from the moment she grew breasts, trying to get into her pants for years. The man repulsed her, but he was the only one with connections to help Galina and the twins out of the country without passports.
He won’t budge, Galina had told her. He wants you to agree to marry him.
Fuck him. She was back at square one.
She would sell her soul first to get her kids back before she’d let that cretin put a ring on her finger.
Could she marry him if he had the means to get Lily and Pasha to the States?
No, absolutely not. She’d find another way.
It would be like being under the regime of the Bratva again. Been there, got the t-shirt.
A second and third job were looking necessary.
She’d already started looking on the dark web for people who ran illegal operations. Unable to face the prospect of the twin’s spending a Christmas without her. This morning’s call didn’t go well. Pasha was still not talking to her. He stood next to Lily, glancing at the screen. No matter how she tried to engage him, he wouldn’t utter a word.
No pain was as worse than that.
Deportation would send her back to Russia. And that was after being placed in an immigrant detention center. It was the Bratva she feared, and what would happen to her on her return. She would be no closer to the twins than she was now.
The chill in the air stung her cheeks and she welcomed the feeling.
Memories of the first two Christmases with Lily and Pasha joined Marianna on her walk to work. With so little money, her job as a beautician paid a basic salary, she ensured they had a small tree and some presents. Galina made the food, and they’d watched A Christmas Story.
She intended to ignore the holiday, the smell of cinnamon and gingerbread. If she squinted she wouldn’t have to look at the twinkling lights or see Christmas trees everywhere.
Before the gym, she stopped at Goodwill. Buying a pair of skinny jeans for herself and four outfits for the kids. Over the past few months, she’d accumulated a trunk full of new clothes for them. It was hope and optimism at its highest level.
Luckily for Marianna, the very large distraction appeared almost as soon as she took off her coat.
“Morning, darlin’, you look frozen. Coffee?”
Blinking, she studied him. The knot in her stomach tied itself tighter.
With his t-shirt damp from exertion, she knew he must have already worked out.
He was stunning, devastatingly so, but nothing in his features revealed who he was. Even his bare feet were intimidating. And sexy.
The boss oozed sexiness from every sweaty pore, and he knew it when he smirked. She cleared her throat, hung her coat on a peg.
“I will work first before I have a coffee.”
The memory of their kiss played on a loop for two days.
It was incredible she wanted to put her hands on a man again.
Ask her nine months ago, she would have thrown up at the thought.
Now it was all she could think about, especially with his earthy scent in her nose and his oh-so-prince charming eyes tracking over her face.
She wanted to kiss him again.
But she shouldn’t.
She was a selfish woman for letting anything take her focus, even for a second.
And Tag was taking more than a few of those.
In her own thoughts, she didn’t see him move until his hand curled around the back of her neck.
The pleasure went nuts inside her. Bubbling and exploding. All but crying out for more of his hands.
Why wasn’t she freaked out by that?
Because it was Tag.
He was an irresistible force.
“I can hear you thinking loudly, Marianna.”
“I doubt it, or you would be terrified of my gruesome, murderous thoughts.”
He threw back his head, laughing. “Feisty. Come with me.” He hooked her hand and started for the office.”
“Wait, why?”
“You want me to kiss you out here in front of everyone? I don’t mind, Anna, might be fun to see how soft you turn in my arms.” A voice made for sex.
Rather than being turned off by his candor, she found him adorable.
And incorrigible.
She followed him like a delirious sheep.
See how easily he swayed her determination?
In his office, he pressed her against the back of the door, coming into her space where his chest brushed ag
ainst hers but left enough space she didn’t feel barricaded in.
She wanted his kiss.
There was no swooping at first.
What was taking him so long? She huffed.
He braced a hand, the other on her hip, burning her flesh through wool and denim. “When I’m this close, you always look like you think I’m gonna gobble you up.” He rasped.
She supposed he was right.
He dropped his head. Marianna held her breath.
Their eyes locked.
And then he kissed her.
It wasn’t manic furious like the first one, but it still tied her nerve endings into springboards of excitement.
She kissed him back with everything she had.
“So you’re fully aware, darlin’, I’d do nothing with you where someone else would see. ‘Cause this dreamy reaction you’re giving off is only for me.”
A little nose nuzzle melted her tougher outer exterior. Marianna shivered when his forearm brushed her cheek. “You doing good, Marianna?”
Right now she couldn’t feel her toes, so yes, she was good.
“Fucking hell. I wanna put that look in your eyes all the time.” He groaned, going in for a second kiss. Marianna met him halfway this time, grasping his face. They kissed until she pulled back to grab some air.
His hardness against her thigh was unmistakable, and it poured a little ice in her veins. As much of a complication as it would put between them, she wasn’t scared to have sex with him. Her worry was about disappointing him.
Of not being the woman he needed.
Maybe she let him fuck her to get it out of his system. She’d cope with losing him.
Tag was a good man. He deserved the best, and that wasn’t Marianna.
Baggage like hers came with its own luggage and a headful of neurosis.
“Friends don’t kiss, Luke.” A reminder to them both. Especially since his taste permeated every crevice of her mouth and made her hungry for more. “In fact, they don’t do half the things you have been doing.”
It was clear he was in cahoots with the devil when he dropped his chin, cut his gaze up at her and smirked. The snatch of heat was felt in her womb.
