by Ashley Logan
"You're being unhelpful when you know I'm trying not to want you."
"Yes. Is because I want you to want me. It makes me feel good. I like to feel good. It is distracting. Yes?"
"Yes." He sounded hoarse and his hot gaze was glued to my body. Taking a deep breath, he squeezed his eyes shut. "So distracting," he agreed, then shook his head as if to clear it. "I can't allow myself to be distracted Natascha."
"Then come and sit down," I groaned as I pulled on my shirt. "As soon as I start rubbing your neck, you are going to be in pain, but I am thinking now that you want to feel punished, so come."
Opening his eyes, he frowned. "You're still playing with me."
"No. It will probably hurt at first. You are very tense. It is difficult to make you relax. You are not in the mood for joking today."
"No."
Still wary, he inched closer and tentatively sat on the edge of the bed in front of me. I stared at his bare back, having never seen it close enough to see his tattoos so clearly. Normally they were hidden by his tank.
"You are not hurting me," he said gruffly of my inactivity.
"I am reading your stories," I replied, scooping up some lotion.
He tensed as my fingers spread it over his neck and shoulder, but I kept my touch constant and he soon began to ease.
"You are a thief?" I asked of the spider climbing up the silken thread that dangled from one of the skull's eye sockets.
"You know what these tattoos mean?" he asked, tensing again.
"Not all of them," I answered honestly as my hands encouraged him to relax again. "Maria from the X club, she knew these things to tell me about spiders, and that stars on knees mean no kneeling. I am guessing the skull has something to do with you killing people."
Mumbling something, he flinched when I probed a huge knot in his shoulder too hard. I rubbed it more gently, easing him into it.
"It will feel better soon, but it will hurt a bit when I work it. Okay?"
"It's fine," he grunted, sounding like a tough guy again.
Smiling, I worked more firmly, even using my elbow at one point, but I kept him busy talking about his tattoos. I think he appreciated the distraction.
"Why is the skull crying from one eye?"
"Perhaps it is sad," he replied grumpily.
"It does not look sad. The tears are drawn to be beautiful and it cries so much it is a... waterfall. Waterfall?" I asked, checking I had the right word.
"Yes. Waterfall. I lived close to a great waterfall in America. It was beautiful."
"Which one?"
"Niagara."
I nodded. "I have heard of this. Very great."
"Yes."
"What about this sailing ship at the top of the water?"
"I travel," he said as if trying to sound bored, but really, I thought he was quite enjoying the discussion.
"And this in the other eye - an... open Fabergé egg?"
"A gift from my Russian motherland."
"It has sharp teeth." I felt oddly cautious of its ominous grin and the venom collecting at the tip of one fang. "Like a monster."
"Yes. I've known many monsters," he said quietly before his voice dropped even lower. "I was born to one."
Nodding, I continued to rub his shoulder.
"Me too, but I do not have a tattoo. I do not think I want to remember that I am made by a monster."
"He's part of me," Nikolai said softly. "But not all of me. Being made by monsters does not make us monsters, Natascha."
It sounded as if he was attempting to convince himself as much as telling me. I nodded again.
"I know. I just do not like to think about Monsters."
"If you don't think about them, they'll get you."
Frowning, I worked my thumbs deep into his muscles.
"That is true. I did not think and I was got. I am here now. You are probably much smarter. Knowing yours was a monster, you were able to avoid him?"
"I don't know about being smart or avoiding," he admitted with a sigh. "Do you see the hooded figure hiding in the roses?"
"Yes. Looks like... man who chops heads for a king."
"I killed him." He let the words hang there a while so I could absorb them. "It was a test of my loyalty. My father crossed the wrong man and I was his executioner."
Shaking his head a little, he sighed. "They didn't know I'd dreamed about killing him a hundred times already and was almost glad of the opportunity to avenge my mother." His head bowed even lower. "Killing him didn't make me feel less like him. We'd never been more alike. The strongest Pachenko survived, but I was only strong because he'd made me that way. He created his own monster."
Shrugging with the shoulder I wasn't rubbing, he continued. "Being raised a monster has been a battle to overcome, Natascha. You're lucky you were not made to be a monster at all."
"How do you know I wasn't?" I asked, thinking back through my childhood and wondering at how many times I'd been told to do things by my father that I had not understood to be illegal at the time.
Nikolai chuckled. "You're no monster. You're too joyous and loving."
"You are loving," I reflected back to him. "I do not know if you can be joyous. You are too moody on the Moskva-Liis, but I remember your smile back on the docks in Tallinn. It was a joyful smile. I am thinking you could be less angry and tense if you were not on a ship of sex slaves."
"You are on a ship of sex slaves and still you can't help but project your inner joy," he stated plainly. "We are not alike. I am always moody. My joyful smile was only because I was watching you."
"Then you should watch me more often," I said, poking him in the back.
Dodging my fingers as I made to do it again, he laughed quietly again and sighed. "I don't think watching you more is a good idea. I already watch you too much. Pachenko is not a joyful man."
"Why not? Doesn't Pachenko ever get to feel good? Surely he would be a nicer man if he relaxed every now and- Oh." Realizing what he was saying, I nodded. "Pachenko cannot be nice at all."
"No. I can't risk him acting suspiciously."
"Why not?" I asked, not entirely sure. "Because of me?"
"You. Other things. I am part of a bad system that I can't change if I'm not Pachenko. It's just the way it is."
"It is not fair that I am wanting to make you feel better, but doing so is dangerous to you."
"And you," he added, taking hold of my hand and easing my own tiring muscles by rubbing his thumb firmly over my palm. "You're right. It isn't fair."
Leaning against his back as he soothed my hand, I sighed.
"You do not want to kiss me again."
"That's untrue," he said, twisting to see my face. "I want to. Very much. But I shouldn't have kissed you then and I shouldn't kiss you again."
"Because it will make you happy?"
"Yes."
Frowning, I pulled my hand away from his. "But you are Nikolai. Can Nikolai not be happy while Pachenko stays angry?"
"I don't know if I'm good enough to keep them separate through such... life-altering feelings. It's safest not to risk it."
"Safest," I repeated in a whisper. "What if I die while escaping?" I asked, sitting cross-legged on the bed behind him. He turned to face me.
"Don't talk that way."
"You said I should think about the monsters. What if I die on the Moskva-Liis? What if I die and I have never been loved? It is too sad."
"You are loved."
His eyes were too intense and I looked away.
"Is not what I was meaning," I said quietly, backing away and moving to the bathroom door. "You should wash your hands too," I advised him before opening the door. "You will have cream from my hand. Do not put near your eyes."
Having washed up in the bathroom, I climbed into bed and faced the wall. Nikolai closed the bathroom door when he returned and the mattress shifted as he lay down behind me.
"Thank you for rubbing my shoulder and my neck, Natascha. It feels much better and I can mov
e it more freely."
"This is good. You are welcome." Pulling the blankets up, I tried to settle. "I liked touching you."
There was a long silence and I thought he was ignoring me until he said, "I liked it too."
His disappointed tone made my heart sink.
"Would you maybe hold me while we sleep?" I asked, guessing at the answer I'd likely receive as soon as I'd said the words. "I know you don't want to, but I am feeling... empty?" I shook my head. "Empty-ing? Not gone, but going? Maybe this. It is worrying. It would give me comfort to be held, but I will understand if you cannot. You can maybe just talk to me. If you are talking to me, I am probably still here."
Shuffling behind me, he rolled over and propped his head up with his hand to look down at my face. I closed my eyes as his gentle fingers swept my hair behind my ear.
"You are definitely here, Natascha."
For a moment, I thought that was all he was going to say, but after a long pause, he continued.
"I can't stop thinking about you, but you are not just some beautiful creature I imagined. You're flesh and blood. You're a beating heart in my bed, wearing tiny panties that drive me crazy while I smell like the cream that you so generously rubbed into my aching muscles. I'm not imagining the relief those muscles now feel and I'm not imagining the torture that lies ahead of me as I spend the night convincing myself not to touch you when all I want is to kiss you from head to toe and make you feel treasured and loved. You can't disappear, because I'll be right here, pulling you back in," he promised, wrapping his arm around me and hoisting me closer to him. "I'll hold you if you want to be held," he said, lying back down and settling in. "Doing so will anchor me to what's good inside of myself."
Warm and firm to the touch, his body enveloped me. It was the best, most re-assuring sensation I'd felt, maybe ever.
"Thank you," I whispered, loving him for his beautiful, grounding words.
I reached out of the blankets for his hand. Weaving my fingers between his, I dragged his hand below the blankets and back around me as I relaxed into him. I longed for his lips and fingers to trail over my body, but if being held was all he could give me, I would take it. Gratefully.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Best. Sleep. Ever.
Arms around me when I fell asleep and arms still around me when I opened my eyes. Stretching a little, I giggled when he growled and pulled me closer.
Tensing, he opened one sleepy eye, saw me and loosened his grip.
"Sorry."
Rolling inside his arms to face him properly, I smiled.
"Don't be. I like you pulling me close."
His grip loosened further. "Me too. Too much."
Frowning, I kicked the blankets off and threw my leg over him, keeping him pulled flush against me.
"Not enough."
His eyes dropped to my bare leg wrapped over his hip and he gulped.
"Too much," he repeated as he began to wriggle away from me. I locked him in tighter.
"Not enough," I argued, grabbing his hand and running it from my ass to my knee.
His eyes shut tight and he looked almost in pain as his hand naturally repeated the movement without my insistence.
I shivered under his touch and his firm hand clenched my ass in place as he shifted his pelvis into me.
"Too much," he ground out through his tight jaw as his erection probed me right where I wanted it. I bit back a whimper and practically turned to jelly in his hands. His jeans were rough and my skimpy lace panties were pathetically soaked as I pressed them against him.
"Not enough, Niko," I whispered to his chest as my eyelids fluttered shut. "I want you to love me."
Breathing hard as his hand tightened on my ass, he began grinding me into himself even as he was pulling away. I moved with him. My body wouldn't let me do anything less.
"I want to, Natascha. Oh-my-fucking-god do I want to," he groaned as his other hand moved to cup my face. He pulled my mouth to his, taking me in a full and hungry kiss. He let go of my ass to slip his hand between my legs and we both moaned as he stroked me through my wet panties, but as I ran my hands down his chest to the buttons of his jeans, he rolled back so abruptly that he fell off the bed.
On his feet before I could even blink, he ran for the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
Deserted on the bed, I took several moments to collect myself before I followed him.
I opened the bathroom door to find him in the shower. Arm propped against the wall, he leaned his forehead against it as he stroked himself vigorously. His whole body tensed and his breathing changed as he spurted in powerful pulses that made my insides clench.
I'd meant to bring him back to the cabin where we could talk, but now I'd intruded on this very private thing. Slipping silently back out of the bathroom, I closed the door again.
Climbing back onto the bed, I pulled the blankets up as I sat against the wall, not knowing how I should feel that he would rather do that himself than enjoy me when I obviously turned him on.
Touching my fingers to my lips as I recalled his kiss, I looked up as he shut the bathroom door behind him.
Dressed in a towel, he held it tightly in one fist as he bent to retrieve his bag.
"I'm sorry I did that," he said, pulling out a fresh pair of jeans and securing the waist of his towel before pulling them on underneath.
"Did what?" I asked distracted by his special care to hide from me as he turned to do up his fly and released the towel.
"I went too far."
"You didn't go far enough," I challenged, dropping my eyes as he turned his full gaze on me.
"Natascha, I've told you. I can't."
"What difference would it make if you are doing it in the shower anyway? Or does it only matter if you make me come? Making me come is not 'Pachenko' enough."
His cheeks began to color and his eyes darted to the bathroom door. He frowned as they returned to me and swallowing visibly, he sighed.
"In a way, I suppose so. Yes. I didn't think you'd know what I was doing in there," he said, cringing a little.
He thought I was guessing, and I didn't think he'd like to hear that I'd seen him.
"It is what I would have wanted to do, so..." I shrugged and kept my eyes low. "Were you thinking about me?"
Clearing his throat, he looked to the ceiling as he scratched the back of his head. "It's difficult to think of much else, actually."
"Are you going out to be Pachenko for a while now? To remember that you don't love Natascha?"
"I was thinking about it. Yeah. It's clearly something I forget too quickly when I'm with you. It's too easy to pretend we're alone when we're in here, but we're not alone."
Sighing, I sank back against the wall. "I am needing to pretend we are alone in here. I need to forget there are monsters. I am thinking this is the difference between us."
"Maybe, yes."
Fidgeting with the blanket, I nodded. "Then you should go be Pachenko, and I will try Niko's shower trick. I will be imagining that he does not stop when he is making me feel so good."
Climbing out of the bed, I made for the en-suite as he grumbled something in Russian. Grabbing my hand as I opened the bathroom door, he shut it again.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he exhaled slowly before opening them again. "Just... don't... pretend too loudly. You remember what I said about... sounding happy. They can't hear you... enjoying yourself."
His jaw tensed and he searched my face for understanding before he opened the door for me. I was barely through it when he closed it firmly behind me.
I stared at the vent in the bathroom wall having never felt so lacking in desire. There was no way I would be touching myself when all I could think of was the disgusting men I could often hear on the other side of that vent.
I returned to the cabin and climbed back into bed.
"That was quick." Looking up from checking his gun he frowned. "You alright? You've gone pale."
"I am not surprised. I feel sic
k. You are cruel to remind me of the neighbors."
"Ah. So. You won't be torturing me more then?"
"I was not trying to torture you! I was trying to feel things my body wants to feel. You are the one who will not let me. You are the torture one."
"Torturer," he corrected, smiling just a little.
"You are a torturer," I said, enunciating each word. "You make me want and then make me sick. Is like bad experiment for rats. I do not want to be a rat."
"Fair enough. This ship already has too many anyway," he said with a shrug. "I'm sorry that I'm more than a teensy bit glad that I won't have to imagine what you do in the shower. I have a hard enough time already not thinking about you dancing around naked, or rubbing against me in my sleep... and while I'm awake. I'm going out to do laundry and talk to horrible people now. I need to stop thinking about you and your tiny, wet little panties before I lock myself in here with you for days and miss out on some vital piece of information."
"What kind of information?" I asked, frowning.
His eyes rounded slightly, but he hid his surprise quickly. "Something that might help me get you out of here," he said, snatching up the laundry sack and his jacket. "You do still want to escape the Moskva-Liis, I presume?"
Still frowning, I crossed my arms over my chest.
"Yes." I watched him very closely. "You are hiding things from me."
"So many things," he replied with a sad smile. "You'll be glad of it, believe me."
Reaching for the door, he paused a moment. "When I get back, I think we should start training you for the escape. You'll need to work hard. It'll keep your mind off... other things."
"Fine."
"Fine?"
"Yes. I have already done my laundry and have no horrible people to talk to. Escape training will be my distraction."
He nodded. "Good then. I'll see you in a few hours."
"I will be here, so yes, you probably will," I replied irritably.
Muttering something in Russian, he took on Pachenko's posture and left, locking the cabin door loudly behind him.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" he asked once inside with the door was safely locked behind him.
Lowering my feet to the floor again, I turned the right way up. "Training."
