by Blue, Kaye
“I trust you will be. If not, I’ll have to look into this further.”
A seemingly mild statement from Etienne but one even an idiot like Denis understood.
He frowned, looking like a chastened boy, which in a lot of ways he was.
“I told you, I got it handled.”
He glared at us and then stood.
“So tell me how this works again?” he asked, looking from Etienne to me to Riker. “None of you are blood. That’s not bratva.”
“Family is important to you, eh?” Etienne said
“The most important,” Denis responded.
“I wonder if your uncle would agree.”
Denis narrowed his eyes but said nothing else, and after a moment, Etienne nodded at me.
“Address anything that comes up directly to Sasha.”
“Yeah, I’ll make sure I keep in touch with your errand boy.”
He looked at me, waiting for me to respond, thinking that his stupid insult would get a rise out of me.
He was mistaken.
And besides, I knew it was just an attempt to save face, to take emphasis off the fact that everyone in this room knew he was only here because he had murdered his uncle and married another boss’s daughter to cover it up.
Pathetic, and certainly not a man who would get a rise out of me.
“Very well.”
The meeting was over, and after Riker retrieved his gun, we all left.
We got back into the waiting SUV. Ghost was inside.
“You get anything?” I asked.
During meetings like this, he often surveilled the area and gathered information that might be useful.
“No. Except his family used to live there and they’re gone.
“Wife and kid, right?” Riker asked.
“Maybe he sent them back home,” I said.
“Maybe. Just something that has changed. But not much else has. Same number of men, same weapons on hand, same business, mostly drugs, other petty shit like leasing protection. Nothing to raise an alarm,” Ghost said.
“Good enough. Then hopefully the status quo can be maintained. I trust you’ve got a handle on this, Sasha?” Etienne asked.
“Yes.”
We made it back to the restaurant with minimal conversation, and I left as soon as I could.
I drove myself, something I seldom did but something that seemed essential now.
I didn’t want to share her with anyone, not even my most trusted people.
When I reached her front door, I paused just for a moment and then unlocked the door.
I probably should have knocked, but more than anything, I wanted to break through the barrier that separated me from her and find her. I somehow managed to maintain a semblance of calm, knowledge that I would soon have her soothing me.
She stood in the living room watching me, which made me smile.
“Don’t stand on ceremony,” she said sarcastically, gesturing at the key I tucked into my pocket.
“You waited up for me,” I said, ignoring her words as I walked in.
“What makes you think that?” she asked.
I quickly looked around her place, then finally laid eyes on her.
I couldn’t speak, not initially, the relief at seeing her again taking away my breath.
I didn’t understand it, had no clue how or why she affected me as much as she did, but she did.
“Call it a hunch,” I said, remembering myself.
“It was a good one,” she answered, the confession unexpected, but then everything about her was.
I walked toward her, curling my fist to fight back some of the desire to touch her. Not that it worked.
When I reached her, I stroked two fingers across her cheek, her soft skin driving a need to touch her more.
“Why is that?” I asked.
She tilted her head. “You’re going to tease? You struck me as a more direct type.”
Before she fully completed the sentence, I pulled her to me and kissed her deeply, tracing my tongue against the seam of her lips, pushed inside her mouth, kissed her until we were both panting, breathless.
Then, only when she clung to me, her need undeniable, did I break away.
“Was that direct enough for you?”
She smiled, chuckled, the lightness in her expression lifting my own spirits.
“I suppose,” she said.
“Why were you waiting up for me?”
As I waited for her answer, I pulled at the scarf she had tied around her braids, fascinated as they fell around her shoulders.
“I think you know why,” she said, proving that she could play as well.
“I might have an idea, but why don’t you tell me?”
“You started something but didn’t finish it.”
Her voice was playful, but I didn’t miss the neediness underneath.
“Didn’t I?” I asked, tracing my fingers across her collarbone, down, grazing the curve of her braless breasts.
“I think you know the answer to that,” she said, her voice a little huskier now.
“If I recall, you were satisfied when you left,” I said.
“You think so?”
“Well, I might be misreading things,” I said, settling a hand over her soft stomach then moving lower, tracing the inside of her thighs but not touching her mound. “But unless I’m mistaken, you came on my fingers not too long ago.”
She moaned low then regained herself and held my gaze.
“Oh that?” She gave a quick smile, waved me away. “An appetizer. I’d hoped.”
It was my turn to laugh, something that seemed increasingly hard to do when the need for her was so strong.
“I hope so too,” I said.
She smiled and then stretched up to brush her lips against my cheek.
It was a soft, sweet caress, one that was so at odds with the passion I was feeling but one that I treasured.
It was something else about her I didn’t understand, had never experienced.
Touching her was nice, more than, but I found that just being with her was good too.
It was nice to feel her body, to see the way she looked at me, but it was also nice to talk to her and learn more things about her.
Because I wanted to know everything. I craved this woman with all I had, desired her in a way that made me feel weak.
And most fucked up of all?
I didn’t hate the feeling.
No, I liked, wanted it, just as I wanted her.
She stretched up tall, kissed me again, then cupped my cheeks with both of her hands.
“I think we’ve talked enough, Sasha,” she said.
I smiled, appreciating her boldness but also enjoying the teasing.
“Have we now?” I said.
“Yes.”
She kissed me again, this time tracing the inside my mouth as I had traced hers.
She stood on tiptoe, lips pressed against mine as she loosened my tie.
A simple, almost mundane thing, but the intimacy of it was shocking.
Because I was content to let her have her way, I found pleasing her just as exciting as it was to please myself.
Something else that had never happened.
I couldn’t say how I knew, but I knew, somehow, that the sex between us was going to be more than a physical release.
Everything about my interactions with Erin since the moment I first saw her had been more than I had expected, and this would be no different.
I had no experience with that, didn’t really understand it, but I welcomed it, welcomed any and everything about her.
She broke the kiss and then pulled the tie off my neck.
Her delicate fingers on the silk were beautiful, and I imagined wrapping her wrists with the tie, holding her in place as I fucked us to oblivion.
Decided that I would soon, but the desire to have her touch me was overriding everything else.
She stood back flat on her feet and then started to work my shirt op
en, popping the buttons one by one.
I watched her as she worked, saw the glint in her eye, desire that I understood more than I could put into words.
And yet, that need to have her was somewhat softened, being in her presence enough to calm me, curiosity at what she might do keeping me still.
She pulled my shirt open and pushed it down my shoulders and off.
Then she paused, let her hands flat against my chest, and breathed out.
I hadn’t expected that either but sensed the significance in that touch.
Soon, that moment, whatever it was, passed, and she leaned forward, kissed my neck, and moved down my chest, sprinkling kisses here and there.
I was hard as steel, and I hadn’t even really touched her yet.
That was about to change.
I slid my hands under her T-shirt, the silky-smooth skin on her back drawing a moan from my throat.
As she moved, I felt the play of muscles in her back then moved my hands to trace the curve of her waist, the softness of her stomach.
She was feminine perfection, soft and strong and delicate.
I couldn’t wait to taste her.
I pulled away, stared down at her, and after a moment, another one of those deep moments that I didn’t yet want to try to name, I did her much as she had done me, pulling her shirt over her head, taking a moment to admire her breasts.
I watched her reaction as she watched mine. I could see that she was curious, perhaps uncertain, about how I would react to her.
Uncertainty that had no place here.
“Beautiful,” I whispered, the curve of her breast, her large dark nipples, making it almost impossible for me to look away.
Her eyes widened at first with surprise but then softened as I continued to stare.
I’d never felt that before, the desire to reassure anyone about anything, but seeing her reassurance was something I found I liked.
I cupped her breasts, testing their weight in my palms, her full heaviness demanding that I taste.
I leaned forward, sucked one dark nipple into my mouth and pulled back, swirling my tongue around the now-puckered bud.
She sighed, holding me tight, insistent in a way that gave away her need.
When I pulled away, she frowned, almost scowled, and I smiled but then quickly latched onto the other breast, sucking it roughly into my mouth as I gently teased the other nipple with my fingers.
She practically melted against me.
“More,” she whispered, her voice sounding strained, needy, demanding.
My only response was a low moan as I moved my hands to her waistband and tugged her pants off.
She broke away from me to quickly step out of them and then reached for my belt buckle.
“It’s no fair for you to keep your clothes when I’ve lost mine, but I’m going to fix that,” she said.
Then she opened my belt and pants and pushed them down, being careful not to touch my cock just as I had avoided her pussy earlier.
I smiled at the top of her head, not that she noticed.
No, she was fully focused on her task, but when my pants hit the floor and I stepped out of them, she paused for a moment, stared up at me, then wrapped her fingers around mine.
I reveled in the moment, the intensity of my anticipation, another feeling that was almost like nervousness, something I barely recognized.
But in that moment, as Erin stared at me, her eyes bright, her body bare, everything else seemed distant.
This moment was perfect and there was no need to rush, no need to be anxious.
Because she was here, and she was mine.
Her fingers wrapped around mine, she led me to what I knew was the bedroom.
I paid no attention to anything, but instead pushed her down on the bed and kissed her as I settled against her body.
She arched against me, wrapping her legs around my hips.
I reached between her thighs and gathered the honey that had pooled there.
The feel of her body, her breath against my ear, her scent, all of it was beyond imagination.
“Sasha, I need you. Now,” she whispered, her voice a mix of a beg and a demand.
I couldn’t deny her what she asked, some part of me wondering if I’d ever be able to deny her anything. I sheathed myself with the condom I’d snagged from my pants, hating that there was anything between us, but all thoughts scattering as I rocked my hips gently and pushed into her heat.
The feel of her gripping me, sucking me deeper and deeper almost pushed me over the edge, but I fought for my control, feeding myself into her until I was fully seated.
I thought I had known perfection before, and I had seen it when I stripped her, but nothing was better than this, Erin’s soft curves under me, her wet heat gripping me.
And when I thrust, perfection became sublime, the joy of the moment something I didn’t have words for.
And I wasn’t alone.
Erin clung to me desperately, her arms wrapped tight around my shoulders, her pussy even tighter around my cock, her hips rocking in rhythm with mine.
We moved together like we had done this a thousand times before.
Even now, I knew we would do this a thousand times again, that it would never be enough.
“Sasha.”
When she moaned low in my ear, her deep breath, the way she clenched me as she came apart, I lost what little control I had, and thrust one last time before I emptied myself inside her.
Seven
Erin
“Do you have plans today?” Sasha asked, the vibration of his voice rolling out of his chest making me smile and snuggle closer to him.
“I need to go to the store, but after that I’m free,” I eventually said, wondering why he was asking.
I studied him, trying to ignore the way my heart raced and instead focusing on the beginnings of the beard that had cropped up on his face and the almost contented look in his eyes.
“So how about we meet back here in a few hours?”
“O-Okay,” I said.
He kissed me and laughed. “Stop being so skeptical.”
“What can I say? You got me off my game,” I said.
“Good,” he responded.
Then he rose, and I didn’t even bother to hide the way I stared at him as he dressed.
“Three hours?”
I nodded, and after a quick smile, he left.
I lounged in bed, realizing how easy it would be to think I’d imagined the whole encounter.
I hadn’t.
And it shocked and confused me that my time with Sasha had affected me so deeply.
I showered and dressed and went to the shop, no closer to understanding when I left again.
I’d gone into this with a very specific goal, one that I had met, but at what cost?
That was the thing I wasn’t sure of.
While the thought of sleeping with him was one that I enthusiastically embraced, my reaction to it was another story.
Because I feared this was becoming more than a pleasurable exchange, and I needed to tread carefully.
There wasn’t room in my life for anyone, and, I was quick to remind myself, Sasha wasn’t asking me to make any.
As far as I was concerned, this was just a fling for him, a way to pass the time, and it would do me good to make sure it stayed that way for me.
Sasha was providing a benefit and helping me enjoy some time. It was nothing more than that.
So why then was I practically giddy as I dressed and waited for him to arrive?
Because I wanted to see him?
There was no doubt of that.
As much as I reminded myself that there was no room in my life for anyone, especially not for him, those admonitions did nothing to dampen my excitement and did nothing to help me keep my distance.
When I heard him approaching my door—and I was positive it was him—I practically sprang up from the couch, more than eager to see him.
I forced myself to
walk to the door slowly, knowing it wouldn’t do to show Sasha my excitement.
But then again, I doubted my poker face was anything compared to what he usually dealt with, just as I knew my capacity to deceive him was limited.
I pulled the door open, not giving him time to use the key I should have been much more upset about him having, and not allowing myself to linger or give myself time for nerves to grow.
“Wow,” I said.
So much for playing it cool.
But then again, who could blame me?
I looked at him, dressed in jeans that hugged to his strong thighs and a long-sleeve T-shirt pulled tight across his muscled chest.
He was a devastating presence anytime, but seeing these different sides of him only added to his appeal.
He seemed so…normal.
Well, not exactly normal. There was still something undeniably powerful about him.
But seeing him without the fancy clothes, away from the confines of his restaurant, made me feel like I was seeing more of the real him.
I liked it.
And that scared the shit out of me.
“What are you thinking about, Erin?”
Confirmation that my reactions weren’t as obscure to Sasha as I’d hoped, not that I’d needed it.
I paused, allowing my gaze to lovingly caress his body before I met his eyes.
“What are we doing?”
“Well, I thought we’d go to the park and grab a bite to eat, but I don’t think that’s what you’re asking me,” he said.
“It’s not,” I whispered.
I looked away, hating myself for being so emotional—especially after I told myself to be strong and stoic—but unable to avoid it.
He seemed to sense my turmoil and walked toward me and caressed my cheek with the backs of his fingers before he gripped my chin and tilted my head to meet his eyes.
“I don’t know,” he said.
His words, his gaze, were as honest and open as I had seen him, at least when we weren’t having sex.
He was unsure too.
Maybe not as unsure as I was, but it gave me some comfort to know that I wasn’t in this all by myself.
“But I like it, and I want more of it,” he said.
“Okay,” I responded.
He lifted the corners of his mouth, the humor coming to him more easily than I would have expected the first time I’d met him.
