Force

by Becca Jameson

  He let his eyes slide closed for a moment to control his temper, and then he turned her around and pushed her down the hall toward the bedroom. As soon as they were inside, he shut the door and locked it. If they raised their voices, there would be no way to keep their conversation private, but that was the least of his concerns.

  He leaned against the door and put his hands on his hips. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  “I am.” She mimicked his stance with her own hands at her waist and one hip cocked to the side. She wore the short black skirt from the other night and a purple tank top he hadn’t seen before. The only thing that made her somewhat believable was the lack of heels. At least her flee-from-the-city outfit included flat sandals instead of wedges.

  Still, her idea was preposterous, bordering on comical.

  “Where do you think you’re going to go?”

  “Anywhere but here.”

  “So your plan is to grab a few plastic grocery bags by the handles and take off on foot wearing that with a few tips from two nights’ work and leave Chicago.”

  “Basically.” She held her chin up defiantly.

  He hesitated, his mouth hanging open, wondering how crazy she actually was.

  “All I need is a bus ticket to anywhere, and I’ll find a job when I get there and make ends meet. I’m a pretty good waitress. Before I made the horrific decision to get involved with Anton Yenin, I had aspirations. Goals. I was enrolled in the local community college working toward a degree in management so I could own my own bar one day.”

  He pushed off the door and stepped toward her as she backed up. “I know you have life plans. And I don’t know when or if I can promise to fulfill those, but you can’t walk out the door right now and go on the run.”

  “I have to. You have too many people putting their lives on the line for me. I can’t live with that. I would die if anything happened to you or one of your friends while trying to protect me.”

  He set his hands on her shoulders and sat her down on the edge of the bed. “How about you let me worry about my friends and your protection, and you stay right here doing what you’re doing?”

  She batted his hands off her. “How about you let me go so you can get back to your regularly scheduled life without having to worry about me?”

  “You think worrying about you is a hardship?”

  She nodded.

  “And you think if you disappeared, I’d be able to relax and sit back and return to normal?” Was she crazy? He knew he was. He hadn’t slept more than a few minutes the night before. He was running on empty trying to figure out how to make things work—a balance between keeping Lauren happy and not getting either of them killed.

  She nodded again.

  He released her shoulders and stepped back to run a hand through his hair. He was livid, and he wanted to get his emotions under control before he spoke again. His attempt was in vain. There was no chance of him acting calmly or rationally.

  He pounced, shoving her onto her back on the bed and tugging both her hands over her head to hold them in one of his. He climbed over her body, straddling her and scooting her backward until they were in the center of the bed. “Look at me.” He waited.

  She kept her chin dipped, her gaze on his chest. Her lips were pursed. She didn’t even bother to fight him. Instead, she remained rigid.

  “Look at me.”

  Time ticked by before she finally lifted her gaze.

  “Baby, this is my regular life. It’s with you. I know I didn’t tell you how I felt until three nights ago, and maybe that was a mistake, but I was trying futilely to be somewhat honorable. I have no interest in being anywhere for more than a few hours without you.” Even if I am a jackass for doing so.

  She swallowed. “It’s not safe. I’m putting too many lives at risk. You have to let me go.” She squirmed beneath him, no match for his strength.

  His cock hardened incrementally as she wiggled, her tits swaying, her nipples puckering enough he could see them through the thin material of her shirt and her bra. She was aroused. She was simply being stubborn.

  He leaned forward to hover over her, pressing his dick against her pussy. He knew he wasn’t fighting fair, but he didn’t care. If he could appeal to her sexually, he would do so.

  She sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes widening. But more importantly, her breath hitched, and she lifted her hips up, increasing the pressure against his cock.

  Dmitry had to grit his teeth to get himself under control. Now was not the time to fuck. Now was the time to remind Lauren how she was affected by him. He lifted one knee and wedged it between hers, pushing her legs open.

  Her skirt pulled tight around her thighs.

  He smoothed his free hand down her body and over her hip until he reached the hem. In one quick movement, he tugged the material up enough to free her thighs and expose her lace thong to his view. “God, baby. You invested well when you bought new panties.”

  She squirmed. “Dmitry…”

  He flattened his palm against her heat above his knee.

  Yeah. She was hot and wet. In fact, she moaned.

  He straddled the thin lace of her thong with two fingers and dragged them over her sensitive lower lips.

  She moaned louder.

  “You’re so wet, baby.”

  She licked her lips, meeting his gaze. “When you’re in the room, I melt. I lose my resolve. You have to let me move out.”

  “That’s incongruent.” He chuckled. And then he pushed his middle finger into her pussy. “That’s it, baby. It feels so good, doesn’t it?”

  She arched her back as a long, low sound escaped her lips.

  In slow motion, Dmitry curled his finger upward and pressed against her G-spot. He stroked over the sensitive area languidly, watching her face as her mouth fell open and her eyes rolled back. God, she was sexy. And fucking gorgeous.

  Taking his cues from her reaction, he added a second finger to her channel and fucked in and out of her, pressing his palm into her clit with every pass.

  Lauren dug her heels into the bed and lifted her hips. Her breathing came heavier and erratic. Her nipples pebbled through the material of her bra and tank top.

  “So sexy… Come for me, baby.”

  She held her breath and stiffened at his words, digging her pussy into his palm.

  His cock stiffened further as her body obeyed his command. They’d only been intimate for a few days, and already he could play her like a perfectly tuned instrument. No woman had ever felt so right. The power she had over him was incredible.

  She shattered against his hand, her channel gripping his fingers while her clit pulsed against his palm.

  He watched every nuance of her, every expression that floated across her face as she finally came down and slumped back against the mattress.

  When he pulled his hand from her pussy, he met her gaze and sucked his two fingers clean. “Mmm. You’re delicious.” He released her wrists and righted himself on his knees, still straddling her thighs. He popped the button on his jeans and lowered the zipper until his cock burst free.

  Two seconds later, his gaze holding hers, he wrapped his hand around his length and pumped from base to tip and back down. His legs shook. It felt so good.

  Lauren lifted her hands from over her head and reached for him.

  He shook his head. “Stay still.”

  She dropped her arms to her sides and lowered her gaze to his cock. “You don’t play fair.”

  “I know.” Having her watch was intense. He gripped himself tighter and thrust up and down the shaft. He was so close. His vision blurred.

  At the last second, he twisted to one side and angled his cock so he came in long spurts against the sheet, letting his eyes flutter shut as he immersed himself in the sensation. When he released his cock, leaving it semi-stiff, he smiled down at Lauren.

  “Why didn’t you let me?” Her voice was a low purr.

  “I was carried away watching your expressions.”
<
br />   She licked her lips. “That was so hot. No guy has ever done that in front of me.”

  “Glad I could be your first.” He climbed over her, tucking his cock into his jeans as he flopped down along her side. He set his palm on her belly. “Please stop talking about leaving.”

  She didn’t respond.

  “Lauren…”

  She turned her face to look at him. “Let me go somewhere else. At least for a while. It will be safer.”

  He shook his head. “No. It would not be safer for you to be on your own,” he lied. “And besides, I would lose my mind worrying.”

  She stared at him and finally nodded, though he didn’t think she really agreed or consented to anything.

  “Let’s get to the bar. We can discuss this more later.” He reached for her face and cupped her cheek as he leaned in and kissed her thoroughly, hoping she could feel the power of his emotions through his mouth.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Dmitry.”

  Dmitry twisted his neck around to find Gill behind the bar waving him over. He was dead on his feet. It was after two in the morning, and he hadn’t worked this hard or this many hours in years. Even construction or working out at the gym all day wasn’t as exhausting as standing around in the bar on full alert, looking for the average patron who might cause a scene. And that didn’t include the added stress of watching closely for anyone who might be there tailing him. He grew more paranoid by the second. Unfounded or not, he wasn’t taking any chances.

  “Yeah?” Dmitry asked Gill as he stepped closer.

  “I sent Mike out with the trash a few minutes ago. Could you see what’s holding him up?”

  “Sure.” Dmitry straightened the barstool in front of him, found Lauren across the room cleaning tables, and then padded toward the side entrance.

  When he opened the door, he met nothing but silence. He stepped outside, letting the door shut behind him, and then heard a soft moan. In two strides he found Mike on the ground next to the dumpster. The man was on his side, his knees curled up toward his chest, the bag of trash he’d carried out next to him on the ground, broken and leaking the disgusting mix of stale beer and rancid alcohol. The combination ran in a stream along the blacktop under Mike’s head. His face was covered in blood. “Fuck.” Dmitry bent to reach for Mike, but came up short.

  A chain slapped Dmitry in the throat, and a tug backward knocked him on his ass before he made contact with Mike. Before he could turn in any direction to see who his assailant was, he took a blow to the left temple.

  His adrenaline pumped fast, but he didn’t have a single moment to get himself on the defensive. The second he leaped to his feet, a stiff object slammed into the backs of his knees, knocking him forward onto his hands.

  He shook his head, trying to get his bearings. All he saw were blurry feet. Two sets of work boots and jeans.

  Someone wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and slammed his face into the concrete. Searing pain raced from his forehead to his neck. The man leaned closer to his ear. “Unless you want that pretty little lady of yours to end up in a body bag, I suggest you throw the fight Friday night. You hear me?”

  Dmitry gritted his teeth, trying to focus on the voice at his side. His ears were ringing. The voice seemed to come from far away, but he could feel the spittle against his neck as the man spoke.

  “Are were clear, asshole?” The man gripped Dmitry’s neck tighter, pushing his face to one side against the ground. He was strong.

  Dmitry knew he was stronger, but this pussy didn’t fight fair.

  “I can’t hear you.” A foot landed on the side of Dmitry’s face, smashing him into the filthy alley. Gravel stuck to his lips when he opened his mouth.

  Dmitry never had a chance to respond because the next thing he knew a steel-toed boot slammed into his left side. The air rushed out of his lungs. He was blinded by pain. As he curled in on himself, the two men fled the alley.

  It took several moments for Dmitry to drag himself onto his hands and knees, and immediately he vomited onto the concrete, a mixture of his dinner and blood.

  He heard his name called from far away. And then a hand landed on his back. Several feet entered his line of vision. He would have spun around and knocked several people to the ground if he hadn’t recognized the hand smoothing onto his arm as Lauren’s and the voice her sweet tone. “Dmitry?” She sounded hysterical.

  “Someone call an ambulance.” This second voice sounded like Gill.

  Dmitry lowered himself to his elbows and shook his head. Renewed pain made him stop the action abruptly. “No hospitals,” he muttered.

  Lauren kneeled at his side. “You’re hurt.”

  He turned his face her direction, trying to meet her gaze. She was too fuzzy. He closed his eyes. “Lauren. No ambulance.”

  “They’re on their way,” another voice called.

  He could hear the sirens in the distance. He twisted his body until he could sit on his ass and grabbed his side with one hand.

  Someone moaned behind him. Shit. Mike. The man was undoubtedly injured at least as much as Dmitry. And he did need an ambulance.

  Dmitry grabbed Lauren’s arm and tugged, hoping to pull himself to standing.

  “Stay where you are, Dmitry. Help’s on the way.” Lauren touched his face.

  He still couldn’t see her, but he had at least an outline of her hair like a halo around her sweet face.

  Using every ounce of strength he could muster, he shook her off, set one hand on the ground, and pushed himself to his feet. He put both hands on her shoulders, realizing with more clarity that about six people stood in the alley. They would be the last employees who had been closing the bar. He leaned forward and put his lips to Lauren’s ear. “No ambulance, baby. Not an option. Get me out of here. Call Mikhail to pick us up along the way.”

  “Dmitry.” She sounded beyond leery. “You’re hurt. Badly.”

  “And I have doctors who can tend to me. Not a regular hospital.” He winced as he spoke, every word making his head ache more. “Use my phone. Front pocket. Call Mikhail. Let’s go.”

  He pulled her shoulder, angling her toward the rear entrance to Inked.

  After blowing out a long breath, her shoulders slumped, and she turned and led him into the bar.

  Bright lights made him cover his eyes with his forearm. “Fuck.” He slumped against the wall inside the short hallway. “Phone. Baby. Please. Now.”

  She reached into his pocket and extracted his phone.

  He could feel her shaking.

  After a few seconds, he heard her voice again, also shaky. “Mikhail. It’s Lauren. Dmitry was attacked behind the bar. He’s injured badly. He refuses to go to the hospital… Yeah. Okay… Uh huh… All right.”

  Dmitry took several long breaths and then grabbed her by the waist and hauled her against him when she ended the call. He wrapped his arms around her and set his lips on her ear. “I’ll be okay, baby. Let’s go.”

  She nodded. “I’ll grab my purse. Two seconds.”

  He released her and let his head fall back against the wall as she slipped away. Never opening his eyes, he assessed the amount of damage. His head hurt like a mother fucker. It would heal. He didn’t think he had a concussion. Bruises would rise up and down the backs of his legs and his neck. One eye was swollen to a small slit.

  But he was a smart guy who had been fighting for several years. He knew the worst damage was to his side where that asshole kicked him. He said a silent prayer that it would heal on its own and not require advanced medical attention he couldn’t afford. He always managed to heal rather quickly from nearly any injury. Granted, he’d never felt this level of pain before, but hopefully…

  Lauren returned to his side and slipped under his arm.

  He let her sustain more of his weight than was probably within her capability, and she led him through the bar and out the front. The sirens stopped. The ambulance would be in the back by now. Probably a police car also. “Let’s g
o.”

  Lauren didn’t say a word while she walked him several blocks away from the bar.

  Dmitry pretended he wasn’t hurt as badly as he was, holding back every wince and groan that wanted to escape. He also kept his feet moving forward without dragging the right one, which wanted to buckle with every step as his side made him wince in pain.

  Finally, Lauren leaned him against a brick wall in between street lights. It was totally dark, and he managed to almost open one eye enough to see her face.

  She stood between his legs, setting her forehead against his. She sobbed.

  “Baby, it’s okay.” It wasn’t, but he couldn’t tell her that.

  She shook her head. “It’s not.”

  Minutes ticked by. A car pulled up to the curb. Dmitry flinched for a second and then realized it had to be Mikhail and Doc.

  “Shit.” Mikhail mumbled as he jumped from the passenger side, rounded the hood, and grabbed onto Dmitry’s arm. “Son of a bitch.”

  With Mikhail on one side and Lauren on the other, they helped Dmitry into the back seat of the car. Lauren climbed in beside him as he slumped against the leather and squeezed his eyes closed once more.

  Mikhail wasted no time climbing back in front, and the car pulled away from the curb.

  Doc twisted his neck around. “You okay?”

  Dmitry winced. He didn’t want to scare Lauren, so he said nothing.

  Doc sighed and drove faster.

  Lauren leaned against Dmitry’s good side and ran her hand up and down his chest.

  When the car lurched to a stop, Dmitry cringed at the jarring. He knew where they were without looking.

  The door opened on his side, and Mikhail reached in to help him out.

  Dmitry nodded as he eased out of the 1998 Oldsmobile. Doc would not be talked into parting with this old car.

  Lauren scrambled out behind Dmitry and wrapped her fingers around his arm. “Where are we?”

  Dmitry took the few steps needed to reach the building and leaned against the brick wall while Doc unlocked the door. “Clinic. Of sorts. He’s a doctor.”