by Shandi Boyes
Yeah, right. If you believe that, you need therapy even more than me. All I care about is discounting Rocco’s claim he kept Roxanne occupied the past three nights. Considering everything that’s happened, it should be the last thing on my mind. Regretfully, the unknown can send the most stable man insane. Why do you think I went off the rails? Staying one step ahead of the game is exhausting, but it has nothing on the tiredness you feel when you’re forever chasing your tail.
I stop the footage just as Ollie requests privacy to make sure I don’t piss the bed. His demand sees Rocco dragging Roxanne to the far corner of the somber space for a chat. It’s clear from the strain on their faces that their conversation isn’t flirty, much less what Roxanne says next, “If that’s what Dimitri would do, do that. Burn it down.” Although Rocco’s voice is too low for me to pick up, Roxanne keeps me in the gist. “I won’t let anything happen to him. Ollie agreed to stay until he’s awake, and I won’t leave this room. I swear, Rocco, I won’t cause any trouble.” After a few seconds of deliberation, Rocco agrees to her request with the slightest lift of his chin. “Thank you.”
My jaw tightens when Roxanne rubs her hand down Rocco’s arm in a comforting manner, but it clears when her return to my side of the room sees Rocco requesting a minute with Smith. “Keep this place on tight lockdown. As far as anyone is concerned, Dimitri and Roxie are still in New York. We don’t want any unexpected visitors.” He doesn’t say my father’s name, but I know that’s who he’s referencing because nothing but disgust is seen on his face whenever he talks about my father.
They discuss protocol for a few more minutes before Rocco leaves the room. Within minutes of him doing so, Smith sets up a command station on my desk, where he stays for the next three days. Roxanne also doesn’t move from this spot. She floats between the couch across from my desk and my bed during the day before spending the entire night in bed, with me, where she belongs.
It’s the fight of my life not to jump out of my skin when Smith’s voice suddenly booms through the speaker of my tablet. “She’s real smart, you know. She organized the search of her grandparents’ estate, unearthed Roberto’s whereabouts, and coordinated the events for your guests Friday night all from the room you’re standing in.” The creak of his office chair sounds down the line a second before his snarky comment, “Imagine what she could achieve if you’d let go of the reins just a little?”
Either panicked he’s about to be hit with my wrath, or confident he has no reason to fret since he smacked the nail on the head, he disconnects our feed just as the shower faucet in the bathroom switches off.
Eight
Roxanne
After sliding my drenched arms into my dressing gown, I twist my hair until it’s held off my face by a low-riding knot, then pace to the vanity mirror. I’m still not a diva, but the gold-leaf framed mirror is housing more condensation than usual. I had the faucet at the highest setting, hopeful a good dose of scorching water would conceal the red marks my cheeks have been wearing the past three days.
I understand Dimitri is exhausted and am aware he had enough drugs in his system to kill him, but I wish he’d wake up. There’s so much going on right now, I feel like my head is about to explode. Someone tried to end Dimitri’s life, the brother he believes is dead isn’t, and I’ve lost the ability to look at my grandparents’ property with anything but disgust.
Although the hundreds of men who scoured every inch of the mostly unused land didn’t find any bodies, there was enough evidence to expose my parents were a part of the baby-farming industry.
Just the thought they’d stoop that low makes me sick to my stomach. The terror is holding on firmly, and there’s no end in sight. I don’t know how much longer I can continue like this. Good deeds are meant to be rewarded. That doesn’t seem to be the case with the Cartel. The more you try to better yourself, the harder your competitors work to drag you down.
Just like me, Dimitri can’t even rely on his family. Smith guards his secrets as if his life depends on them, but it doesn’t take a genius to realize Dimitri’s father is being as closely monitored as Dimitri’s enemies. I doubt Rocco would have gone back to New York with Clover to persecute the men who drugged Dimitri if Col’s whereabouts weren’t being constantly scrutinized. The fact Col is far from here is the only reason Rocco has riled Dimitri via the speaker above his head instead of in person.
My sly grin doubles when I catch sight of it in the mirror. I shouldn’t like the way Dimitri stirred every time Rocco picked on him, but I did. Only a heartless man fails to respond when teased. Dimitri isn’t one of them. He’s paying for my mother’s rehabilitation out of his own pocket, and he didn’t hold back on the purse strings, either. She’s surrounded by celebrities and beginning to feel as remorseful as me.
I’m honestly unsure where we’ll go from here. Sorrow can’t take back all the horrendous things she’s done, but with how far down the rabbit hole she is, I won’t need to consider the next step for a while.
Once I have my game face back on, I make my way into the main part of the room. “Have you had any word from Rocco this afternoon? His silence is a little off-putting…” My words trail off, gobbled up by the shock roaring through me. Smith isn’t seated behind Dimitri’s desk. Dimitri is. He looks as dark and deadly as ever, but very much alive.
I’ve been accused of being a ditz a handful of times in my life. Today is the first time I’ll agree with their assessment. I don’t stand back and watch in awe that the man who was on his death bed only days ago is standing in front of me, appearing as strong as an ox. I race across the room as fast as my quivering legs will take me before throwing myself into his arms.
“Dimitri.”
He startles from my unexpected affection, but as quickly as his shock arrives, it leaves. With his heart beating as erratically as mine, he pulls me into his chest as he did almost two weeks ago. This time, his shirt doesn’t catch my tears, his tattooed chest does. I hate myself for blubbering like a baby, but boy, it feels good to finally release the hurt that’s been eating me alive the past three days. I wasn’t just upset someone tried to claim Dimitri’s life, I was frustrated I was left alone to deal with feelings I’ve never handled before.
I jumped into the deep end as Rocco suggested, then I was left treading water for over seventy-two hours. Even an Olympic swimmer would struggle in those conditions. Since I was in waters way too deep, I should have drowned days ago. I probably would have if anger wasn’t also keeping me afloat.
I’ve never wanted to hurt and comfort someone as much as I do right now. My emotions honestly don’t know which way to swing. The last time they were this erratic, I fell asleep in Dimitri’s arms, and he didn’t speak to me for days.
I refuse to let that happen again. I don’t care if he punishes me. I’d rather his punishment over another three days of painful silence.
After scrubbing my face to ensure I don’t look like a total wreck, I peel my wet cheek off Dimitri’s pec, then align my eyes with his. I startle when our eyes collide not even a second later. He’s staring straight at me. His watch is heart-stuttering, but it’s without an ounce of malice. His unusual mischievous gawk liberates me from the worry I’m about to overstep the mark. It allows me to talk freely for the first time in a long time. “I was worried you were never coming back. I thought I’d never see you again. Do you have any idea how panicked you made me?”
He’s humored by my worry, but deep down inside, I also believe he appreciates it. “It’ll take more than a little GHB to bring me down.”
When he laughs, it’s the fight of my life not to whack him in the stomach. I wouldn’t hold back if I believed it was the only abuse he’s endured in his life. “It’s not funny. You could have been seriously hurt, then what would happen to Fien?”
That wipes the smile right off his face. He’s as stunned now as he was when I threw myself in his arms. Even staying by his side twenty-four-seven the past three days doesn’t have him believing I’m
on his side. In his eyes, I’m still the enemy.
“I held a gun to my mother’s head, then left her with you even on the belief you were going to kill her, yet you still think I’m the enemy. What can I do to prove I’m on your side, Dimitri? Sentence my mother to death for her crimes? Sell my virginity to the highest bidder? Take the place of your daughter? I’ll do anything you want. Anything at all—”
My words are stopped in the most beautifully tormented way. Dimitri doesn’t demand me to be quiet like he did when I went on a rant on how I’m not with him because I have daddy issues or cut me off with a cruel scorn.
He kisses me.
It isn’t an all-encompassing kiss with teeth, lips, and tongues. He holds back a beat, so I have time to react to how I feel about being kissed by him. He isn’t a nice man nor is he gentle, and he wants to ensure I know what I’m signing up for.
Even with his embrace being as innocent as a schoolyard peck, it sends fireworks exploding through me. It’s sweet and blistering, and ten times better than I could have ever imagined.
When I moan into Dimitri’s mouth, my body choosing its own response to the fiery blaze smoldering between us, he weaves his fingers through my hair like he did at Frosty Kinks before he adds a stack of wood to the fire in my gut. He explores my mouth with teasing bites, long licks, and breathy growls that have my temperature rising to a dangerous level.
I’m naked beneath my dressing gown, and Dimitri is only wearing a pair of sweatpants, but within seconds, it seems as if there are too many articles of clothing between us.
After uncinching the cord of my dressing gown, I shimmy my shoulders, aiding the static-loving material’s fall to the floor. The waistband of Dimitri’s pants come away just as easily.
His grunt when I circle my hand around his thick cock is desperate and loud. He wasn’t lying when he said his cock has been waiting for this day for months. The heaviness of his impressive shaft is a sure-fire sign he was telling the truth, much less the sticky droplet of goodness on the tip.
I whine like a child when he pulls back a few seconds later. My fret is unfounded. He isn’t ending our exchange before it truly begins, he’s ensuring he is the sole investigator on if the light in my eyes changes like it did for my mother. He’s keeping this exclusively between us.
He hits a button on the edge of his desk, curls my legs around his waist, then walks us across the room. His lips don’t leave mine until the softness of bedding caresses my curves. After wedging his knee between my thighs that I’m trying in vain not to squeeze together, he drags his eyes up my body in a slow and dedicated sweep. When his eyes land on my face, the earth shifts beneath my feet. Just like his earlier watch, this one doesn’t have an ounce of spite to it either. It’s brimming with way too much yearning ever to be confused with a hatred response.
“Are you sure?”
His chivalry catches me by surprise, but it makes the nod of my head even more convincing. He could have taken what he wanted like he was raised to or tried to profit from me as my father did. Instead, he made it my choice. That makes the claws of his almost deceit nowhere near as painful to my heart.
“It will hurt, Roxanne.” His comment seems to panic him more than me. “You’re tiny—”
I cut him off by pulling him on top of me so I can reattach our lips. I kiss him how I’ve dreamed of kissing him since I saw him standing in the rain outside the alleyway. It’s an urgent, hurried kiss, as impatient as the hand slithering between us to join our bodies in a way that’s both personal and intimate.
“Fuck,” Dimitri moans on a growl when he lines up his cock before he drives home, sheathing me with one quick thrust.
He was right. It does hurt, but it also feels right. I’ve always felt a little lost like I don’t quite belong. I’m not experiencing that now. Fien is the cure to unlocking Dimitri’s misery, but I could very well be the key to the cabinet holding the potion.
My hips jerk upward when our exchange goes further than our previous attempt. With his feet splayed to the width of his shoulders and his eyes locked on my overstuffed pussy, Dimitri circles the bundle of nerves between my legs with his thumb, bringing the pain ripping through me down from a ten to a seven.
“I need you wet for me, Roxie. If I pull out now, I’ll fucking tear you. You’re clutching me too tightly.”
His unusual use of my nickname shocks me for a second. Not enough to stop me from hatching a wickedly intense plan, but enough to add a quiver to my voice. “Kiss me.”
When his eyes lift to mine, certain he heard me wrong, the pain lowers by another notch. “What?”
“Kiss me,” I repeat, smiling at the shock in his tone. “If you want me wet enough not to hurt me, kiss me.”
I grunt in pain when my request causes him to notch another inch of his cock inside of me. I doubt he’s all the way in, but I’m too in awe at how skillfully he kisses to worry about him never fully entering me.
Within ten seconds, I’m so caught up in our kiss, my clenched muscles relax.
Within twenty seconds, I’m kissing him as intensely as he’s kissing me.
Within thirty seconds, the rock of our conjoined hips sees his cock moving in and out of me in rhythm with his explorative tongue. We’re not close to fucking, but for how fast we got to this stage, I can see us reaching that peak remarkably quick.
“That’s better,” Dimitri says as he slants back so he can take in the sight of his cock pumping in and out of me. I don’t need to peer down to know the evidence of my excitement is tinged with blood. The tangy scent in the air is evidence enough, much less Dimitri’s increase in breaths. “But it could be better.”
I feel excruciatingly empty when he suddenly withdraws before he requests my eyes to his. It’s a void that’s filled by a blinding climax when the collision of our eyes causes cum to erupt from Dimitri’s cock. As my name tears from his throat, he coats my pussy with his spawn before he uses his still-erect cock to push the murky white substance inside of me.
He stuffs in two inches, pulls back out, swipes his engorged knot across my clit, then reenters with an extra inch. He continues doing this until the shudders making it seem as if I’m possessed, weakened to a shiver, and almost every inch of his impressive cock is inside of me.
As he rocks in and out of me, his speed increasing along with my moans, the ache of taking a man his size is notable. Although it’s painful, it is a good ache, one I’m certain I’ll crave time and time again.
“Lock your ankles around my back.”
I immediately jump to his command. He’s more experienced than me, and for now, I’m happy to use his skills to my advantage.
“Now, give me your eyes.”
Pleasure overwhelms me when his cock throbs from the collision of our eyes. I’m being stretched beyond repair and am certain I’ll be in pain for days after this, but the sensation roaring through me is unbelievable. My orgasm is coming hard and fast, but I want it right now. I’m barely grasping reality. I am too far down the rabbit hole to think about anything but my raging libido.
“More.”
Dimitri spreads my thighs wider before he drives into me on repeat.
“Faster.”
He grunts and hisses as he pushes me to the very brink of despair.
“Harder.”
He fucks me like he’s possessed. Pumping, grinding, and stroking every inch of me. His hands are swamping my tits, his pelvis is grinding into my clit, and his cock is commanding every inch of my pussy.
This is better than I could have ever imagined. Our fuck is raw and primal, but it’s also brimming with emotions. We should be enemies who hate everything about each other. He hurt people I loved, killed others I didn’t, and spanked me in a room full of spectators, yet, our bodies come together as if they’ve intimately known each other for years.
A sensation I’ve never experienced before gathers inside of me. It builds with every thrust of Dimitri’s hips and each lively glint in his eyes. No one could accu
se him of being dark and dangerous right now. There’s too much light in his eyes—too much life.
When realization sinks in, a climax slams into me.
I’m responsible for the shift of color in his eyes.
Me.
As I grip the bedsheets in a white-knuckled hold, pleasure rolls through me unchecked. It hits me everywhere—my trembling thighs, my thrusting chest, my aching sex. It even hits my heart that’s almost as full as my pussy.
Before I can put my ego in check, Dimitri withdraws, flips me over, then reenters me from behind. All I can do is scream. His change-up in position means he’s more deeply seated than he was only minutes ago, and his thumb is pressing against a region of my body I’m unsure I want claimed by any man.
Within a few strokes, it dawns on me how unfamiliar I am with my body. Instead of repelling away from the thumb hovering above what I thought was a no-go zone, I’m arching up to it, wordlessly encouraging Dimitri to increase the pressure on my back entrance.
“Not yet.” Dimitri moves his hand away from my puckered hole so he can spank my butt cheek instead. “You’re too tight to take both my fingers and my cock.” I’m already burning up everywhere from the fiery burn his hand caused to my ass, much less what he says next, “I can’t wait to claim every inch of you, but we need to build you up to that. Once I’ve got your snug cunt customized to my dick, we’ll switch to other parts of your body.” His comment doesn’t sound like he means tonight. He’s talking days away, perhaps even weeks.
My muscles clench with greedy need, excited about the possibility of this lasting more than a night. The tight clasp of my vaginal walls around Dimitri’s cock almost sets him off. The veins feeding his magnificent manhood throb as his poundings turn punishing. He fucks me with everything he has, not stopping until another blinding orgasm convinces my limbs that they’re broken.
